Then It Got Weird
Then it got weird
Summary: People meet in the mess and things get weird
Date: PHD045 (2 June 2009)
Related Logs: K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

The mess hall is always a place to find something going on, and this is no exception. Today seems to be special, well, special in that it is the same food that is always served however, it is food and it is hot. A group of marines eat in silence as they look all scowly and mean. A group of deck hands also have congregated together, though they seem a bit more jovial. So, yeah, even outside of middle school it would seem that people flock together. The door to the mess opens and in walks Leda sans cigar and booze, he seems to be his regular puppydog self as he signs for his food and he picks up his tray to eat.

With a rumble in his gut, Martin steps into the mess hall. After doing some gun-cam footage review after his CAP, he keeps his features low as he makes his way through the line by himself. Getting his food onto his tray, he slips into a table alone, preparing to eat his meal.

Roubani is seated at a table, mostly alone and picking at his food left-handed. His right arm is still firmly in a white cast, supported by a dark blue sling. There's a hint of permanent marker peeking out from under the edge of the blue, someone having written or drawn on the thing. No books or notebooks today; it's just him.

Castor picks up his food, same thing he had last time thick noodles in a soup, mystery meat, and raw veggie slices. He then turns to scan the room and spotting Poet he moves over to join the pilot, birds of a feather and all. He sets his tray at the table and says to Poet, "I still need to sign your cast you know."

Looking over to the table where Castor and Roubani are, Martin lifts his eyebrow and considers for a moment. "Poet?" He blinks. "When the frak did you break your arm?" He grabs his tray, starting to head over in their direction.

Roubani looks up from his idle stirring of thin soup. He hehs quietly at Martin. "The buoy incident, sir. How have you been?" Most of the bruising and the worst of the stitches from his Sickbay stay are looking better, purplish-black fading into ugly dark yellow. A slight nod to Castor. "If you want to, sir." Birds of a feather? Maybe. If one looks closely at Roubani's uniform collar, the wings are gone.

Castor winces as he hears Martin's voice and then he turns to look at Martin with his best puppydog face to study Martin so that he can gauge how Dash is doing. He turns back to Poet after scanning Martin to say, "I would love too." Even now he is relieved to see Poet, they may not have the best connection but the man is family, "Hey Poet, where are your wings?"

The hatch swings open. Aaaaand it's chow time. A furtive-looking Willem pops his head through, craning his head around to scan the confines of the Mess Hall. He is looking around attentively. Eyes are slightly wide and alert, in fact, as he meanders in from the Kharon's claustrophobic corridor, a notepad tucked under his arm.

Setting his food down, Martin seems relaxed. He hasn't been moping, but at the same time he hasn't been given too much a reason to. In a neutral mood, he starts to dig into the casserole-like mush, pausing to pour some pepper onto it. "Save some room for me after I eat, Poet? I'm starving, been so busy around here lately the food's got to take the higher ground." He says, looking up to see Willem entering. He nods upward to him and then goes back to his food.

Roubani gives Martin a vague smile that might be a little sympathetic. Gossip goes round fast. Or he just empathises with being too busy to eat. "The real estate will be waiting, Lieutenant." He clears his throat softly as he looks back at Castor, then idly at his soup as he stirs it again. "My departmental identity has been shifted for the time being, sir. One may be able to fly unarmed, but it doesn't work out so well when taken literally."

A character's last words should probably say something about who he was. Why should the first words be anything but foreshadowing or, in Xanth's case, forewarning? "Hey, is this a private party, or can anyone join?" Don't accuse him of being shy, anyway. He says it like he's waiting for a music and laser light show to start. The dancing girls may be optional. Or they may not be. He's holding a tray of mostly liquids and semi-liquids, avoiding anything like an entree.

Scanning. Scanning. Wil keeps turning his head about to study various patrons of the Mess Hall. In the process, he catches the little colony of three sometime-pilots. Known territory is good enough for him at this point. He keeps looking a little longer, seeming a bit, well, for the lack of a better term, edgy and alert in his movements. Finally, he turns back to the line and proceeds to accquire a moderate serving of the grub do jour. This done, he turns back to the aforementioned table and strolls on over, his reading/writing material tucked under his arm with the tray propped in his hands. "Evening, gentlemen." He offers, neutrally.

If there's any indication that Martin knows about Samantha and Ajax, he doesn't show it. If anything his neutral mood would lean to that he didn't, given the proximity to him and Samantha's fight. Looking over to Wil, he nods to the seat next to him, and then waves Xanthus in as well. "I don't see any reason for this to be an exclusive table." He chuckles, taking a moment to drink from his glass of water. Eating rather meager, bland food, he goes back to it. Apparently loving the dish served, he's making quick work of it.

"They didn't, sir." Roubani replies to Castor. His soft-spoken voice retains some quiet dignity in not being tossed away. "Engineering, on my choice…until medical clears me to fly again." As a new face plus Willem come over he falls silent, nodding to Wil. "Lieutenant." The unfamiliar person, Xanthus, gets the same slightly cautious glance over that most everyone gets, and a more formal nod. The slightly bruised Ensign is sitting with a bowl of soup in front of him, spoon in left hand. The right arm is in a cast from shoulder to hand, and a blue sling.

Xanthus nods, "Damn. The exclusive ones are more fun, too." Taking a seat next to Martin, Xan downs some of the water, then pops a pill to chase after it. He seems to prefer the 'slam your palm against your mouth' method of pill swallowing. Forceful and a little animated, "Lieutenant Jr Spiros. I was born yesterday." As good an explanation as any. Blunt and aggressive. These are good traits for a fighter pilot, right? It seems to serve as an introduction.

Castor looks at Martin for a moment and then says, "Hey Dash, how are you doing?" He asks in sympathetic tones which ring across as being truly sypmathetic. He also hopes that Dash knows about the new coupling, Leda doesn't like being the bearer of bad news. Castor is eating noodles, mystery meat, and cut up raw veggies. Most people don't care much for the food but Castor is always happy to have a hot meal. For the moment he uses his chopsticks to scoop up some noodles as he waits for Martin's response. He then takes a moment to look at Roubani, "Well then engineering is a good choise seeing as you helped save our collective asses." He then turns to look at Xanthus, "Ah, another Jig, nice to meet you new born. So, they let you from the brig, recovery ward, hiding with civilians?" He says in gentle but teasing tones.

A round of nods to the three pilots on Wil's part, barely grinning as he settles into the proferred seat that Martin graciously claimed for him. "Well thanks." He gives Roubani another long look of appraisal. "You're coming along, Poet." He makes an obvious reference to the Ensign's state of injury. Finally he nods to Castor and settles in, carefully arranging his notebook on his lap and his tray in front of him as he eyes Xanthus carefully for a few long moments, before nodding a fourth time. Seems standard procedure from him and whatever Wil's being wary about, Xanthus isn't it. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Willem Price." His accent is faintly but noticably Libran. He hasn't touched his food yet.

Roubani doesn't really respond to Castor's opinion of the reassignment. Hard to tell from his guarded eyes if he's really come to terms with it or if he's simply acting the part. His eyes shift to Martin as the man's asked for a second time how he is, then back to Xanthus. Then to Willem. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

Martin "Dash" Black looks up towards Castor and quizzically peers at him for a few moments. The glances sent in his direction have set off the inner military intelligence vibe in him, and he bites. Setting down the fork, he wipes his hands off with a napkin and speaks. "You've been giving me these looks, Tinman." He comments, taking up his glass of water. "Spill it. What's going on?" He asks, tilting the glass to take another sip.

Castor looks over at Xanthus, "Castor, Jig." He then looks at Martin and then says as sympathetically as he can, which, again, comes naturally for Castor he is social and he looks after his 'family' he says, "Martin, you might as well hear this from me because you are going to hear it from somewhere and better a friend than someone else." He waits a beat to let Martin prepare for what he is about to say, "Sam is with another person now." He takes another breath to let Martin prepare before he says softly, "She is with the Padre."

Xanthus gives Castor the most half-assed salute ever. It like he's intentionally being lazy about it. It doesn't even resemble a salute so much as it's a mockery of someone who doesn't know how or can't be bothered. He just flicks his fingertips against his forehead, "Castor. Hey. Sort of. They just let me out of the ward. I'm from the Daedalus. You might've seen it, or pieces of it, near that space station. I hear it blew up really pretty. Lots of reds and yellows. Can call me Xan, by the way. Or Xanth. Hell, I'll answer to just about anything if there's alcohol involved."

Roubani just kind of blinks at Castor and Dash. He lets go of the spoon and picks up his water glass, slowly taking a few sips without moving it away from his mouth.

"That a fact…" Martin says after swallowing the water. Apparently he didn't know, but he didn't spit his water out all over the place. Setting the glass down, he goes back to his food. Taking up his fork, he shakes his head from left to right in an open display of disappointment. His eyes roll. "Chalk that up as a large vote of confidence in the spiritual leadership of this boat, taking immediate advantage of a pissed off, emotionally bitter woman who has an aversion to the gods." He takes a bite of his food, speaking with his mouthfull. "…people never cease to amaze me."

A slight turn of his head and Willem clears his throat. "Paper? That's a relief. Thanks. I'll owe you a favor in the near future. Don't go hog wild." He says, drily towards Castor, and then falls dead silent as he and Dash start talking scuttlebutt. He's got nothing to say about this, but, oh wait! There's food. Isn't that interesting? He looks over at his plate and begins to shovel tonight's meal in, with a brand of languidness that makes it seem more like a duty than bearing any kind of hunger or enthusiasm. He nods up at the Daedalus' recent refugee. "Well. Welcome to the best Mess on the best Escort Carrier in this part of Colonial space." He notes, neutrally, in between bites.

Jason enters the mess hall. For grub, obviously, as he gets himself a tray and goes right to line up for whatever is passing for food these days. Before entering the chow line he gets a cup of water as well.

Castor looks at Martin and tries to gauge where the man is before he offers, "Well, I felt like you should know this, Marty." He does not enjoy being the bearer of bad news. He then turns to Xanthus and says, "Alcohol, now you said the magic word, Xan." He takes a bite of a carrot stick before he turns to Wil, "No problem Wil, I do what I can to help out around here." He then looks up at Jason another face he is unfamiliar with. His eyes fall back to Martin before he says, "Are you going to be okay?"

Roubani nobly manages to keep his opinion of all this off his face, beyond a slightly raised brow aimed at the liquid in his cup. He certainly doesn't vocalise, except to look at Xanthus and ask, formally but politely, "What department are you, sir?" Since the Jig didn't state.

"Oh, it's magic too? I thought I was just an addict." Xanth laughs a little and if something like jello was available in the mess hall, that's what he's 'eating'. Staying off solid food, this one, "I think you and I'll get along real well." He's giving Willem a grin while he does what's passing as eating, "Thanks. I'd say this beats hospital food, but I think I'm still numb to the whole experience. Oh, and I'm a fly guy. Drive vipers…. sometimes right into hull plates. /That/ was fun."

Martin leans back in his chair, swallowing the last of his meal. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he nods towards Castor. "Course I'm gonna be okay I'm not a thirteen year old girl." He chuckles. "Look…" He pauses, setting his napkin down on the table. "I don't want to pull any of you into drama that's not your place, but with no hurt feelings involved I can tell you that the concept of Samantha frakking Ajax is bullshit. You get to know people to the point when you can tell when they're writing bad checks."

And when the dinner bell rings, it's Eddie who's typically late in heeding the call. She strides in behind a pair of snipes, hands thrust deep into her fatigue pockets as she strolls up to the food line. Her typical scowl has softened into just a frown, but hey, that's progress right? Getting a tray of whatever's slopped onto a plate, she grabs a roll stuffs it in her mouth to carry, and then picks up her tray with both hands to find a table. Where is she going to choose? Right smack dab into the thick of things. She heads to the seat on Roubani's right, and if it's occupied, she's going to stand there and glower until someone moves over.

"Huh. Jock, eh? Welcome to the Air Wing camp. Makeshift. Wonder if we should put up a squadron flag on this table." Wil continues to respond to the newcomer, making a patent point to avoid discussing the ins and outs of Martin and Samantha's personal lives. He turns to idly spy Jason rolling through the chow line in the distance, chewing his food lazily.

Jason is in the chow line getting…whatever's passing for chow these days. He doesn't look to closely at what ends up on his plate. Once he's served he takes his food and water and heads into the mess proper to seat himself. He picks out a spot not far from the assembled pilots, offering the lot of them a polite nod as he digs in. Not with much enthusiasm, but a guy's got to eat. He tries very, very hard not to listen too closely to the scuttlebutt about who is frakking whom.

"So I've discovered, sir," Roubani answers Xanthus, drily. Still no comment on the Castor-Martin development, as then Eddie appears in the seat next door. So long as she doesn't bump his plaster-encased arm, she's cool. "Hey." And a Jason too. Goodness. "Lieutenant Thayer."

Castor looks at Xanthus, "Ah, you flew into a hull plate?" He says as he tries to figure out how someone just flies into a hull plate. He then listens to Martin's words and he says softly, "I'm not calling you out to be a thirteen year old girl however suddenly have to part ways might lead a man into deep water." He pauses as he takes a sip of water, "Well, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here man." Castor smiles as Eddie takes a seat, "Mooner, look we got a new pilot." He points to Xanthus and then he looks over at Jason and then it hits him, the ECO, ah, recognition is a good thing.

Martin looks to see the form of Eddie stepping over. Watching her for a moment, he looks back to his food tray. Reclining in his chair, he scratches the side of his head and looks to Castor again with a small chuckle. "Allright man, I'm cool though. Trust me." He chuckles, waving his hand dismissively. He stares at his tray for a moment, a small bit of humor in his eyes. "Trust me." He reaches out for his water again, taking a sip.

Fork in hand, Willem turns over to spy Eddie after she made her approach. "Mooner." He says, affably enough even if his voice is neutral, along with his expression. He looks over towards the hatch every now and then, furtively.

Coffee mug? Check. An hour left until CAP? Check. No, make that fifty-eight minutes. Kai wends his way through the mess hall, in his flight suit, headed directly for the coffee machine. Mental clarity via caffeine seems to be his priority this evening.

Xanthus gives Castor a grave look, as if recalling something just terrifying. "It was just…" And then he snorts and waves his hand dismissively, especially if it looks like people are believing him, "Nah. I'm just messing with you. They called me Jester on the Daedalus. Something about not knowing when to shut up. I was a fun Ensign. And thanks, no. I'm not a Viper Jock. Viper Nerd. Viper /Nerd/. I'm too trendy to be a jock." He's simply not commenting on the heightened emotions at the table.

Roubani was at a table alone just a few tiny minutes ago. How things change. Now there are clowns to the left of him, Eddie to the right, here he is, stuck in the middle with…soup.

Eddie settles into a seat next to Roubani, a roll still stuffed in her mouth which might make greetings hard to do. Eddie manages with a grunt. She arranges her food on her plate for a moment, then pulls her bread out of her mouth with a big chunk missing that she's now chewing. "S'up." She says to the collective. "New guy." Short and sweet tonight. Well. Short, anyways. Her eyes flick over everyone, but take a second pass at Martin, then aside to Roubani. "Am I missin' something?"

There's a murmur from the food line, as apparently the the parson whom was outed is coming from said line, though he is off duty judging by his clothing, tattoos on the one arm seen clear as day as he moves with a couple of ensigns, apparently discussing something talked about in Chapel. But soup is calling and Ajax must feed. Soon…

Castor lets the matter drop before he turns his attention back to Roubani, to study how Poet is doing however he isn't sure what to say so instead he looks over at Xanthus and says, "Yeah, I reckon I can see that, Jester." He says in a country sounding Aquarian accent. He then scoops up a few more noodles and the turns to look at Kai and Ajax as they both enter.

Jason is among the clowns that've been sent in. He offers an all-purpose sort of "Hey" to the other Air Wing fellows that've assembled in that vicinity. Maybe someone forgot to spray. He looks over at Xanthus with curiosity, and a cordial grin. "You're new to the Kharon? Well, that's something extraordinary these days. Welcome."

"Drama," Roubani replies to Eddie, blandly. He stirs his cooling soup, or what's left of it, and glances at Eddie's tray as though one of her rolls might be in danger of being stolen. "Are those edible, or are you just filing your teeth?"

Martin looks back to Eddie, nodding to her. "Mooner." He says to her, running a hand through his hair. His water glass now empty, he quickly grabs the roll from his tray to hold it as he starts to pull it apart. Roubani wants a roll…it's best to keep yours in hand. Leaning over to mutter something quietly to Eddie, he turns to see Ajax in the food line. "Speak of the devil…"

Castor looks at Jason, "If he gets his wings, we need to 'welcome' the new jig with the Kharon 'initiation' ceremony." He then looks over at Eddie, "Do we have all the materials needed for the ceremony?" The way Castor is speaking it is hard to tell if he is joking or not, well, older pilots will know the truth. He then adds, "I'm still sore from my intiation."

Gone are the days of decaf, at least where Kai's concerned. He fills his cup with the hottest, and blackest variety available. Which is to say, lukewarm at the moment and burned. Mmmyeah. The table of pilotry nearby draws his attention for a moment; more specifically, the unfamiliar Lieutenant in their midst. After a glance at his watch, the Captain wanders in closer for a catchall greeting of "boys". Which apparently encompasses Eddie, too.

Willem simply chews on his food as he raises a hand in an official 'hi' to Jason. He starts to work on his mushy peas, which about as much enthusiasm as one could expect for such a posh course. He swallows hastily and, oh wait, sits up a little straighter as Kai makes it on over. "Captain." He responds, after swallowing.

Need food now. Poppy wanders on into the mess, making her way towards where the rations are handed around and getting what she needs before she makes for a table. As she spots Willem she offers him a knowing grin, and she carefully avoids eye contact with Cygnus as she settles down somewhere to eat.

Ajax keeps his course over to a table just behind the pilot's table, as he and the other Ensigns sit down. more words passed, before the Chaplain is looking up and a slight smile over to the rather crowded table of fly boys. "Nadiv." called over, to the man's back he can see. "I am glad to see you up and about. Hopefully you'll be back in the cockpit again." See, when said pilot table is full, give the Padre some credit, he'll sit close, but not indeed steal space.

Eddie doesn't mind being lumped together with the 'boys', that's likely where she feels more at home, anyways. "Captain." She greets with a toothy grin, before she's plopping her second roll down on Roubani's tray for him in answer to the question about rolls. Something Martin mutters gets a smirk from the Viper Jock known as Mooner, and then Eddie comments casually to Castor. "Medical confiscated my stash of rubber gloves, so we'll just have to make due without." Initiation jokes never disappoint.

"If I get my wings. Yeah, well… wait. Initiation ceremony. Oh, this'll be great. Does it involve something homoerotic, or is it just regular emasculating?" Xanth is all play, even making his arm go limp for a moment, "Oh the things those boys do…" which is just about when Kai shows up. He clears his throat, turns a little red, and sits up straight, "Yes, so… there we were. It was a difficult day."

Roubani glances up as Kai gets thrown into the mix. He might've said something, but then Martin's comment draws his attention and he looks towards Ajax instead. "Chaplain." The wish about him in the cockpit makes him slightly awkward, but there's no elaboration. "Hopefully, yes." Any hope of warning the padre about what he's possibly walking into is gone. Man's too fast. He picks up the roll Eddie gifted him with, setting it on his plate and picking up his knife. The bread gets precisely cut into fourths. Then eighths.

Castor looks over at Kai and says, "Cap, any chance we can requisition some medical gloves?" He then looks at Xanth, "Oh, neither of those, that is much to simple, passe really. The Kharon is a more sophisticated ship despite outward appearances." He then leans over to Wil and whispers something to the man.

Castor whispers, "Just look at Jester and nod your head as if I am telling you something very important about a real initiation ceremony." to Willem.

Jason looks up at Kai and offers him a polite, "Captain, sir." He even swallows before saying it. Such is the respect rank earns you. Eddie's joke earns a laugh, though he does arch a brow at her, as if he's not entirely sure she didn't have such a stash somewhere. "Do you fly Viper or Raptor?" he asks Xanthus, a detail he may've missed before. He grins when he catches sight of Poppy, offering the fellow ECO an inclination of his head.

The arrival of Ajax earns a slight tilt of Willem's head as he just exhales slightly, briefly catching the man. Yeah. Maybe it's better to settle on the peas. He does turn and catch Poppy's gesture though and she gets another wave as well, grinning very, very slightly with a lopsided twitch of his lips. He looks back towards the hatch after he studies her. She's not whatever he's jumpy or on-edge about though, obviously. As Castor mumbles to him, he nods his head silently, looking up at Xanthus with a dart of his eyes.

Pilots and priests. This should be interesting to say the least. Cygnus doesn't bother moving through the line for food, he's got his reasons for that, though he does fill his tray with several large glasses of water. The mess hall is a good place to socialize, and Mac actually has a few minutes to spare, so here the man is. The pilot's table seemed crammed full, and though many of his friends are seated around it, he spots his boss at the next table over, and settles his tray there, instead. "Brother," He murmurs out in welcome in Ajax's direction, then shoots an, "Evening Captain," over to Kai while offering the other assembled pilots a grin.

Kai doesn't take a seat, but then, he's probably not planning on staying. Flight suit and all. "Talk to the CAG," he tells Castor, in the sort of voice that could easily be transposed to 'ask mom'. "These kids playing nice with you, Lieutenant?" He's looking directly at Xanthus when he asks that, and one would be hard pressed to find much warmth in his eyes. He's making some kind of assessment of the pilot, pretty clearly.

Ajax looks back over to Martin as he notices the look, and there is a slight smile and a nod to the other pilot. "Lieutenant." Always safe, when addressing pilots, but this one he remembers. The RUM. "Oh I don't know if you smoke, but I was given a pack of smokes today, if you would care for one, or something else for the rum?" Asked across the table, before he is smiling over towards Kai. "Evening Captain." and down into that stew like soup he's sending a spoon.

Cue Jupiter passing through the hatch to the Mess. She wears her hair up in a curly pontail, and occasionally reaches up to carefully scritch the healing stitched up headwound hiding there. She doesn't go for the food line. Nope, she glances around the Mess, eyes trained on the occupants of various tables.

Poppy returns the smile to Jason, remaining otherwise quiet as she sets about eating her meal. Well, poking at it. She doesn't have much of appetite for rations.

"Sir." Gone is Xanth's lazy self mockumentary and devil-may-care attitude. It's been replaced with a Dr. Jeckyl of a response: He's all business, or at least as much as he can muster, "Yes, sir. Just breaking the ice. Deciding if we should use salt, a hammer, or a blowtorch. Possibly all three, sir."

Xanthus's sly grin cannot be completely surpressed.

This is getting very crowded. Gosh. Roubani's retreated into cutting up his bread into very precise pieces, doing so even without the use of his right hand. Chop chop.

For Jupiter and other newcomers' information, the big table contains most of the airfolk - Roubani, Eddie, Martin, Castor, Willem, Xanthus is standing there as well, as is Kai who approached the whole crowd. Ajax is sitting at the adjacent table. Anyone not mentioned can clarify or add their positions as needed.

Samantha is actually in a decent mood for once. Something is doomed. Stepping into the room, fresh from her post-CAP shower, Sam is looking bright eyed and a bit bushy tailed. Not on duty again until the morning, she hasn't bothere to braid her hair back tonight, so it's down in soft, messy blonde waves behind her shoulders. She's smoking a cigarette as she heads into the room, gazing about. She catches sight of Ajax and, for once… smiles. A heartbeat later she sees Martin and that smile slightly faulters. Her world is definitely a bit upside down right now.

Eddie settles into eating her meal, a devilish little smirk curling the corners of her mouth looking like the cat who just ate the canary and is quite smug about it. "You gonna eat that, Rubix, or just disect it?" She asks of Roubani, using a noncallsign so it must be a personal pet name for him. She feints trying to stab a newly snicked off piece of roll.

Kai salutes Ajax and Cygnus with his coffee cup, then cuts his eyes back to Xanthus, who's doing his best impression of a pilot with a stick up his backside. Business as usual, when Marek's around. "Believe it or not, I actually saw a kid bring a blowtorch to a break-the-ice game of triad, once. Nothing says grounding faster than lighting your commanding officer's bunk on fire accidentally. Dash, don't break him before the CAG's had a chance to take a gander, all right?"

Willem happens to be sitting on the other side of Martin as he picks at his food, occasionally glancing at the hatch with some measure of tension that could only be described as 'on-edge.' Not quite paranoia. He notes all the usual suspects rolling in…Now Jupiter, he nods to himself, and then Sam. He shrugs a little bit and eyes her a moment more neutrally before looking back down at his food intently. It's about half gone.

Poppy continues to poke at her food as she looks across at the big table full of air wing types. She takes a sip of water and a mouthful of rice before leaning back and observing from afar.

Roubani does what he usually does when Eddie tries to mess up his carefully arranged plate. He whacks her knuckles with whatever he's holding. The flat of the knife rather than the blade, thankfully. "Those are /intricately balanced/, thank you."

Ajax grins back towards Cygnus for a moment as he makes room for the other Priest at his table. A nod given as he eats on the stew soup..well you know, jazzed up rations Still its food and it'll do the body good. "I sent in a requisition to meet with Sheridan about the boy, and the status of the civilians- Hopefully we can get some damned improvements going." said softly, before he is looking up. Smile from the woman he is seeing brings another to his face. And up goes his hand with a grin of his own. Obvisouly she can sit with her Wing if she wants, but she'd be welcome here as well.

Jason mostly just eats quietly. He's not exactly enthusiastic about it but, again, guy's gotta eat. He washes it down with frequent drinks of water. "So, Flower, how you been?" he asks Poppy conversationally.

Castor says, "Salt?" He considers that for a moment before he looks back at Kai, "Aye, sir, I'll speak with the Cag." He then says, "Rope, we will also need rope. A nice long cord of rope." He then spots Samantha, his wingman, and he says, "Hey, Sam, we are going to give the new jig an initiation ceremony." He cackles softly as he looks at Xanthus. Apparently whatever was bothering him yesterday has gone away and he is back to his puppydog self around Samantha.

Extending an arm to the air to wave to Jupiter, motioning for her to come join them, Martin 'Dash' Black watches his sister for a moment. When the mention of trading a pack of cigarettes for the rum he'd given Ajax, Martin tilts his head and looks in the Chaplain's direction. Simply staring at Ajax for a moment, Martin lifts an eyebrow. Kai's words are lost on him for a moment. "Excuse me?" Martin says, head tilting a little bit. "Like the blind leading the frakking blind." Martin scoffs, shaking his head at Ajax. "I like how you're the spiritual guidance of the crew, but find the time to take advantage of an emotionally distraught woman and then offer her ex a pack of smokes as a peace offering after getting your crank wet." Martin smirks, shaking his head and goes back to the conversation. "Ridiculous."

Jupiter heads over to yon gathering of pilots. Piiilots. She saunters up behind Kai, rests an elbow on Spider's shoulder, and leans over the pilot table a little. "Boner. Everyone." Her eyes tic around the table to take in the faces of all the pilots present, and end on her brother's. She smiles. Oh, no.

There's a pause in which Jupiter sniffs Kai's upheld coffee cup to check for quality, and then she muses, "Recent events, huh?" She grins, then adds, "Gives a whole new meaning to kneeling in chapel."

"Good," Poppy replies, offering Jason a smile as she has another sip of water, "You?"

"I once dethawed an entire freezer room with this sodium peta-hypodichloric spray bottle in college." Xanth just couldn't quite keep it in, apparently. Jester indeed. He smirks, but barely, having caught on to what he's owning up to, "Well, uh… that's not important." And the story will simply get told another day. Possibly without bigger brass. "I'm just glad to be up and about."

Eddie's smile is amused rather then chiding of Roubani's antics, ruefully shaking her hand as it's rapped. "See if I share my dessert." Not that there's a lick of anything even /resembling/ dessert on her tray. Eyes stray to Martin as he pipes up about his true feelings regarding the Samantha/Ajax hook-up, brows lofting slightly on her forehead.

Cygnus nods his agreement to Ajax, quietly telling the other Priest, "Thank you. I'm assuming you found some of it as worrying as I do, now that you've made it down there." That's when the conversation basically gets derailed by Martin and what he says. There's a bit of disbelief in his eyes as he mumbles under his breath, "I'm just going to assume you don't know what you're talking about Martin." Because one thing's for certain, Mac will go to the mat for his CO. "The Lieutenant is a good man, and a damned fine priest."

Finally, all she can do is clear her throat…"Martin…we were… breaking regs… practically. It just… wasn't… You know. Regs are regs. better… yanno…." Her voice is half apologetic, half nervous, and all tension.

This is one of those 'oh shit' moments. Willem takes this opportunity to look back away, briefly towards Cygnus but oh, wait, that area's not safe either. He would linger and speak in other circumstances. Nah. His gaze rolls towards the sort of secondary Air-Wing table occupied by Jason and Poppy. A good tactician surveys escape routes in advance.

"Interesting take on the Events lad.." comes The padre's words after a moment. Not even a flush or a look else. Rather he simply continues to eat with a slight smirk there, as the eye flashes over towards Cygnus and back again towards Martin "If it help you- then that is what you can say." apparently the Priest can take a lot more than that. "The smokes was for a bottle you gave over. Nothing more." And he simply drops it before looking back over to Cygnus "How's your training going?"

Jason returns Poppy's smile and replies, "Not bad. Not bad." Chow, chow, chow. Samantha and Ajax's mutual presences are noted but, if he has any reaction to it, he keeps it to himself.

And…there goes the tension barometer, boom. Roubani is damned good at ignoring other peoples' fights, while they're still non-violent. One brow just arches slightly, then he takes the opportunity while Eddie's distracted to survey her tray. There's dessert?!

Kai, viper Captain, purveyor of shitty coffee, and leaning post. You could call him a Renaissance man, or you could call him just taken advantage of. "Fingers." It's a statement, more than a greeting. His eyes flicker to Ajax for a moment, then back to Martin. He doesn't comment. Yet. There's a sip of his coffee instead.

Poppy nods her head to Jason, taking a moment to glance off at Willem with a knowing grin and a wave. She says nothing, though. That is, until she turns back to Jason, "Been busy?"

"Bellissimi!" Matto cries as he hops over the lower edge of the hatchway and veers off to join the ECO crew. "What's up? Anything edible tonight?" he wonders, shoving a knee onto a seat and leaning forward with his hands on the table to peer across the room, upper lip turning faintly upward as he purveys the offerings from a distance.

"It's been going well," Cygnus reponds quietly, focusing his attention on the conversation at hand. His eyes flick over to Willem a moment, before fastening themselves on the Padre again. "Mudguts put Rebound and I through our paces last night. Was a good sim." Beyond that, Mac still hasn't had any type of news, but he's content to not push the issue. What will happen, will happen. A hand reaches for one of the glasses of water and he begins to nurse it.

Castor attempts to keep focusing on Xanthus if for no other reason to ease some tension in the room, "Look Jupiter and Kissy, new Jig, which means initiation ceremony. I'm goning talk to talk to the CAG about requisitioning rubber gloves for the event." He then adds, "Okay, we need gloves and rope. What am I forgetting?"

Noting both the tension at the table and the various attempts by people to route around it, Xanth goes with the flow as best he can, "Yes. Yes, get those rubber gloves. You're really not impressing me, guys. You should be prepared for this sort of thing. I know things are bad. But you don't have an initiation kit ready? I'm really disappointed in you."

Martin doesn't seem upset, he seems mildly confused. He looks to Samantha and shakes his head at her. "Stop." He holds up a hand. "First things first, spare yourself the difficulty. We weren't breaking regs. Lies do not create bedrock for a life free of bullshit." Martin says, turning to look to Jupiter and then around the table for a moment. Pausing over Kai, he watches the man's face before turning and nodding to Mooner. He runs a hand through his hair. "Look…you have a problem with the gods. You throw away your statue of Artemis which I rescued. You know it's not breaking regs. You have an aversion to speaking even about the gods and then you start frakking the local cloth." Martin says openly, loudly to Sam. "I could care less who you're frakking but seeing as how we're the last hope of the human race and life is too short to worry about personal bullshit, do yourself a favor, stop building your life around a hierarchy of lies, allright?" Martin takes a sip from his water. "Shame on you, Padre…you think you can see what the gods do and socially maneuver around the shit I just pointed out to get a piece of ass." Martin slaps Xanthus loudly on the back. "So…what's your favorite color, asshole?"

Once upon a time, Eddie jumped on a messhall table and dropped trou at her superior officers to break some tension. It quickly earned her the nickname 'Mooner'. This seems like another one of those times, she might take one for the team and does something stupid. "Hey. Lifer. Think fast." Flick. A spoonful of tepid stew goes sailing for the poor innocent ECO. Food fight, anyone?

"How'd you come out of it?" asks Ajax, with a raise of his brow before he's chomping and pausing as a small piece of hard, bone looking material is pulled from his mouth and tossed down on the tray with no incident. And back to the food for a moment, but the old marine's jaw starts slowing as he looks over towards martin again. There is no bark to the voice that comes. just a simple calm. "Anything else, son?" Brow up. Go on and rail if you need Lieutenant, the look would seem to decree all on its own.

Kai returns Martin's study, silently, over the rim of his coffee cup. The look given is difficult to discern, and followed by the squadron leader's hand dropping to Dash's shoulder. He leans away from Jupiter, and murmurs something in the young man's ear while Eddie's busy trying to add some levity by slinging stew. Woe betide her if there's a repeat of the shoe incident.

Roubani watches the confrontation, moreso because there's very little way to avoid it than anything else. His expression has nothing to say about it, though his attention seems more on Ajax than the other two. And there it stays for a while, not judging. Just watching what he does.

Jason offers Matto a grin. "Hey, Kissy. Pull a seat. You're just in time. They must be serving something decent on the menu for this crowd." It's a joke, mostly. About there being something decent on the menu, at least. "Not much up but the usual. Busy?" To Poppy, he shrugs. "I suppose. Flying CAPs, trying to keep the electricals in line. You know the drill." Munch, munch, munch. Going about his business quietly, until he is assaulted with soup. Splatter. Right on his cheek. He turns to Eddie, more surprised than anything else. "Morales…?" Cue confused blinking.

Xanthus wasn't prepared for the backslap, but braces at the very last minute, "Anything she's wearing." He points to a random (?) attractive looking female officer several tables down, "So… grey and green right now. Boy, do I love grey and green! I can't get enough of it and I'd probably let her know very loudly if I wasn't trying to look responsible!"

Samantha stares at Martin quietly, sighing for a heartbeat or two, her still wrapped right hand rubbing across her face as her left hand lingers around her nearly burnt out cigarette. "Martin…from the CAG's lips… we might not have been breakin' the letter of the regs, but we were breakin' the spirit of it. From HER mouth. If that's what the CAG says, I consider it breakin' regs. We're puttin' people at risk feelin' shit like that when we're both in the same squad and it was done. So… I did what I had to. I thought you could see that." She's doing her best to be as emotionless about this as possible, her throat a hint tight but that's the only expression she's allowing herself to show.

Cygnus' gaze swings back to Martin and just settles there. And sticks. No doubt he's not exactly impressed with the words, but for the meantime, the pilot-priest is keeping his own counsel. One glass of water is already gone, and the second has almost dissapeared as well.

"Regs are not dependent on the status of your knees, Case." Jupiter notes on the heels of the woman's words. She makes an open/closed motion with her hands.

Wil can't help but crack a crooked grin at Poppy's gesture as there seems to be some kind of understanding between them at this moment. Also, he is good at juggling conversations. For all the explosions of wordiness he can come up with, he's also an able listener. Even though he is no longer looking at Cygnus he does catch the mention of the sim and nods his head a little and offers, just tossing this out there to no particular listeners as he stares back at his plate. "Heh. Has anyone else witnessed the patented 'Mudguts - Comms are Down' training scenario?" 1 point for awkward attempt at conversational topic shift(tm). This doesn't work though. Even he knows it's patently lame and completely ineffective. He looks up to Samantha and then over to Martin, and then pointedly over towards Ajax. And back to his food. "Aurora's sweet ass." He curses. "Can I go anywhere on this ship without some kind of reminder about who is drilling whom? Can -any- of you have some patience for a loser who hasn't so much as seen a woman outside of hung over pilots in the head in the better part of a -year-? Have some common courtesy. FRAK." He bangs his hand lightly on the table and then..wait, he catches Eddie's sneak attack and turns his head back to spy Lifer get splattered, mouth open.

Roubani raises an eyebrow slightly at Willem's outburst. Well that was…informative. Goodness.

Some of the stew goes a little wild, splattering on the back of the collar of a snipes shirt. He reaches a hand back with a 'What the frak' only to come up with brown liquid dripping off his fingers. He cranes his head around to see Eddie giving a wide lipped smile at Jason and a little brow waggle. Pegging her as the initiator, he picks up a lob of rehydroginated mashed potatoes, and flings it back over to the pilot's table, getting a nice portion of them the carpet bombing.

Castor looks at Willem, "Point of correction, I've had no one on my nethers for seven years." He attempts to get a laugh but as Eddie throws food Castor's eyes go wide and then he gives this look that says 'thank you' and as Jason throws food back even as he is hit by mashed potatos.

Matto grins broadly at Poppy, brows rising at the tension across the room, and he leans his head down and to the side to offer some quiet comment between the two ECOs before Lifer's spattered with stew and he catches a droplet or two of gooey shrapnel, kneeling up stright and lifting a pinky to wipe a drop of it from next to his eye, about to laugh before the mashed potatoes are flying and he's hunching faintly, "Ohshit," he laughs.

Poppy looks kind of horrified at the sudden outbursts and the revelations of who isn't frakking who, "Good lords … "

Jupiter becomes aware of some flying food, as she sees a gob of something wing by out of the corner of her eye. "Oh, hell no." Apparently taking pot shot at Case isn't as important as keeping food out of her hair, because Jupes turns and is off like a shot.

"This," Roubani comments to Eddie under his breath after Castor joins in, "Seems like very counterintuitive one-upping." His head then moves, neatly out of the way of any flying food. He just /did/ this laundry, thanks.

Jason is unsure whether to stare at Eddie, who assaulted him with food, or at Willem's TMI. He tries to stare at both. It makes him look decidedly bug-eyed. But mainly the look settles on Eddie. He shakes his head. "Damn, girl! What are you playing at? So immature…" He shakes his head, heavily sighing, taking a mouthful of water, turning back toward his plate…only to raise his spoon and flick his next bit of soup at her. Or in her general direction. He tries to do it stealth-like.

"Thank you Lieutenant-" said over towards Willem for a moment and then he's chuckling softly for a moment or two longer, as eyes are going back towards Cygnus. And it seems there he is happy to stay with his fellow Priest, He's unaware of the gooey food bombings going on right now "Well go on and tell me about the sim. What happened?" And Ajax is back onto wanting the details of the simulated dog fight.

Kai neither has any desire to discuss his sex life, or possible lack thereof, or get pelted by peoples' erstwhile dinners. So after a significant look to Martin, and another to Samantha — codespeak for 'be good or I'mma hunt you down and shove my boot up your ass' — he pulls away from the pilots' table and heads for the hatch.

Poppy immediately drops under the table as a food fight appears to break out. She doesn't need to rush to the showers again after last night's uncomfortableness.

With Kai on her six, Jupes has a pretty good shot at not catching any food to the back of the head. Spider shield!

Suddenly, and very out of place, Wil snaps. "WHAT? I didn't do that for your sake." vaguely in Ajax' direction. Then he turns towards Castor. "WHAT?!" He adds a little bit later. "Sorry, I couldn't help…" He trails off as he processes the statement. "Seven years? I didn't need to know that, buddy." He doesn't comment further though as his attention is now rapidly spinning back to the flying food just a short way's away. And his mouth hangs open in some semblance of low-grade horror.

Of course the mashed potatoes don't just assault the pilot's table, some gets splattered to the table behind them, which has a group of CIC geeks getting to their feet. Is that jello? Eddie can only laugh as she gets pelted with mash potatoes, and then a good dollop of whatever Jason was eating. Her tongue licks at something dripping down her cheek. Mmm. Gravy. "Sorry, Roubani." She says, snagging one of those sections of rolls. "I have to engage in a counterstrike." FLING!

Martin leans in Kai's direction as he's whispered to. Nodding to what his wingman says, Martin puts his hand one Eddie's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Standing, he reaches out and scruffles Jupiter's hair as he grabs his tray. He looks towards Sam. "You know how full if shit you're being right now. That's the sad part. Chances are some Cylon's gonna blast one out of four-five people in this room, Case. Do yourself a favor and get your shit straight." He says, turning to return his tray with a shake of his head. "Allright folks I'm gonna let them eat in peace and head off to get a beer. I'll see you guys in a bit."

Yes, flying food. Gah. Roubani scoots back from the table, trying to place himself out of possible range as best as possible. He does look a touch amused, but, yeah. Out of the way. The hatch is given a mild glance.

Blue eyes track the food back and forth and Cygnus wonders if it's considered wasteful of the Gods' time to pray over not getting hit with the mess. At this point, it'll be far easier talking about the sims than sex, so… "Rebound was Wing-Lead, and we were tasked to check out a debris field." At least that's the basic gyst of it. "Found a civilian ship under fire from five Raiders. That's when our comms went down and we had to work on line of sight only. Needless to say we toasted the frakkers, my brother." Here, Mac has to grin, "Rebound took a bit of minor damage, but nothing too dire. Overall was a pretty good run."

Xanthus shakes his head, "Castor, Castor. You're supposed to fudge in the /other/ direction, buddy. The other direction." He stops as food continues flying from one side of the table to the other. His mouth opens to speak, but Martain's quip makes him stop. Relaxed or not, the comment made a bit of an impact anyway. "So… I should probably poke a bed, make sure nobody groans, and call it mine. Or do we get teacher-assigned seating in this classroom?"

"You don't want to frak with a navigator, Mooner," Jason calls to Eddie, giving up any pretense of being stealthy. He has descended to the level of foodfighting, and flings some more of the gruel he was eating. Literal gruel. It's some sort of oatmeal concoction. It's generally flung toward Eddie but as Martin stands, it's trajectory is headed in that direction.

Castor simply sits covered in mashed potatos and any other food that hits him. He watches as a Marine gets hit by some mashed potatos and the quiet marines turn around and begin to sling food as well, mystery meat heads in the direction of both Jason and Eddie. Castor's eyes visually track everything that is flying, a bi-product of being a pilot. He says, "You'll need to clear it with the CAG and then you will need to go through initiation."

More and more people start getting drawn into the food fight, and soon all the dregs from people's plates are arching through the air. One deckie gets to his feet to try to escape, only to slip on a puddle of soup and go down on his rump. At least that leaves a glob of some unidentifyable meat near at hand. He picks it up and sends it sailing blindly for the pastors' table. "ACK!" Eddie exclaims, picking up her tray to try and use it as a shield. When Jason flings gruel her way, she tries to bat it away, which of course means someone else is going to get splattered with it too.

Poppy climbs out from under the table as though she's moving towards the door but a flying food projectile causes her to duck under again, "Damn."

Samantha sighs at Martin, staring after him, the clear tension in her body of someone who WANTS to follow the man out the door, but knows she possibly shouldn't. She sighs, finally sinking down onto one of the benches at the table. "Sorrya bout that, everyone…" And she falls quiet then, turning her head to listen to a mix of the initiation story and the sim story, trying to give it all her attention, even if her eyes keep moving back to the door. it's clear she wants to follow Martin.

And Willem is on the other side of Martin's seat. A bad place to be to catch some residual sludge. He puts his flatware down as gets a little bit of food debris and breaks a cardinal rule - you eat, you clean. He rockets to his feet and gathers his notebook under one arm, trying to shield his face with his other as he tries to navigate as far away from the kill zone as possible. And as fast as possible. How successful will he be?

Matto isn't going to try to go get any mess at this point, when crossing the hall might well cause him to become a casualty, slated for the showers and a bout with a post-traumatic eating disorder. So he slides down into his seat, which doesn't help too much since Jason next to him is doing a lot of th flinging and so drawing a lot of fire. He finally slips down under the table to join up with Poppy. "Hey, you making a break for it?"

And that person splattered with it is Roubani. Woe for sitting next to Eddie. "Gruel" spatters across his wingless collar and lapel, narrowly missing getting splattered all over his cast. Flinch and a mild grumble, and he's quickly ducking to escape this and get the stain out.

"For Sharing, Lieutenant. For Sharing." added simply before he is looking back over to Cygnus and there is a nod offered. "Well, it seems to me that you worked well if the lead took little damage" Though really the Padre has no real clue on how all that works, he never was a fly boy, or into flying for that matter. "Any word on if the CAG is going to let you in the wing?" curious as he is about what will become of his assistant and friend.

Poppy glances off towards the door once more before she nods her head to Kissy, "Yeah. You coming?"

"I believe you, but I also know that we're sitting in the middle of… do I need to say it? I'm looking for just about any excuse at this point." He moves back from the table, "It's been real, ladies." He moves carefully. He's crouched. "No idea! That's what makes it fun. The uncertainty of not knowing if I'll be scraping deck plates or not! Keeps you on your toes!" (Xanthus)

"Honestly?" Cygnus shakes his head, "I have no clue, my friend. Neither the Major or the Captain have said word one to me about it." For once, Mac doesn't sound very stressed out about that fact either. Perhaps the man is finally coming into his own and settling down inside of his own skin. "Either way, it will be the will of Ares. I guess we'll see, in time."

Jason looks a little sorry when his gruel splatters Roubani. A little. He's too busy defending himself to be too wracked with guilt over staining the ensign.

Matto crouch-crawls over toward the end of the table, and he peers one way and then the other. "Sure. Here, we'll break on three, I'll cover you," he rests a hand on her shoulder. "One? Two?" he waits for it, "Three!"

Poppy makes a break for it alongside Matto, attempting to practically haul him along at her own swift pace to make it out the hatch.

Willem gives a little, sort of sorrowful, apologetic glance down at Sam for a split-second before making his way around the chaos towards the hatch, much as Poppy and Matto are again. He gets hit with another bit of food, the side of his head, in fact. One pilot is as good as the next, it seems. Mushy peas. Looks as good as it tastes. DELICIOUS. He simply grimaces and wipes a bit of goop off his forehead.

Castor simply sits unmoving as he is covered in food. Someone is going to have to bail people out and the puppydog is the one to do it. However, gravy and gruel cover his shoulder. He watches as some specialists from the deck gang throw in with a hail of buns. Man, those guys have some arms and Castor is hit square in the forhead as there is a soft smushing sound as the bun falls off of his head. He then says to Xanthus, "Welcome to the Kharon." He looks over at Wil, "And we still haven't gotten to the initiation ceremony for the Jig." He says gravely.

The most important rule about a food fight? Don't stick around when the fun gets broken up by brass, and the mops and buckets are hauled out and clean up duty is assigned. Eddie just slowly starts to melt beneath the table, oozing down until she's out of eyeline of direct assaults. Like a weasel, she manuevers underneath the table and the mostly deserted chairs now.

Jason retreats when the buns get thrown into it. Hard projectiles are more than he signed up for. He ducks under the table, emptied tray in hand in case he needs a shield.

Eddie slinks out, before anyone remembers who started it.

Xanthus seems to know this rule, as well. He gives Castor a hasty wave and that same devil-may-care salute, "Thanks. It's been real. Real something! Gotta go!" Like diving through a hail of gunfire.

Samantha is seeing the way of things. Food being thrown.. She can NOT afford to get in trouble with the brass again. So much for an evening meal. "Ah…I'm gonna duck out before the brass comes and we're all in shit up to our eyeballs. See you boys around." And with that, Sam gets up and tries to duck quickly over to the door. No, she's not following Martin… not at all.

Another hit to the hair. Willem gets pelted again. It seems Aurora hates him now. Probably in retribution for his off-color comment about her ass. Ah well. He barrels for the hatch, and manages to squeeze through the exit like some of the others.

As the chaos continues Castor simply sits there quietly doing nothing however as he spots officers leaving he decides he might want to get out as well. He hasn't thrown anything but he isn't taking chances.

Ajax looks up as it seems the food is getting a bit over bearing, or the fight starting to spread. All one has to do is hit another department and all hope will be lost. A quick look is passed as Sam seems to be making a break and he calmly sips at his coffee before looking to Cygnus "I think an orderly retreat is in order. Now."

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