PHD #352: Evan's Birthday, Or 'Pre-Op Trannychair'
Evan's Birthday, Or: Pre-Op Trannychair
Summary: Evandreus hosts a game of charades in honor of his twenty-seventh birthday. Friends show up to celebrate. Pallas shows up, too.
Date: 13 Feb 2042 AE
Related Logs: None, all.
Callie Cidra Devlin Evandreus Lunair McQueen Pallas Psyche Sawyer Solstice Trask Vandenberg 
Recreation Room
This huge room spans quite a lot of floor space, the support beams crisscrossing at even points throughout the room. The two sides are divided fairly between the Enlisted and Officers with an unseen line more or less running down the center of the room. A couple pool and card tables sit in no-man's land with a series of regular mess tables at the rear of the room, nearest a counter full of minor refreshments like coffee and bags of chips. Magazines and reading material are spread out over the couched seating areas and a few televisions are set-up with a couple of video game systems made available.
Post-Holocaust Day: #352

Evandreus is twenty seven years old today. Not that you'd be able to tell by the way he hunches over a table in the rec room, one knee planted on a chair, flicking a spinner on an old rattly board game with a well-manicured fingernail and moving a game piece around the board, more exploring the game than actually playing it, especially since he's by himself. He's in his flight suit, even off-duty, since chances are the party will eventually get interrupted by the Cylons popping up and everyone having to run for his or her bird, but the top of his flightsuit is undone, for now, unzipped to mid-chest, and some affectionate soul has drawn a flower on one of his cheeks in marker. Yep, the vibe he's rocking is definitely more 'seven' than 'twenty seven.' And so there's a game night in the rec room rather than a trip to the bar like a normal fellow might put together.

Pallas enters, scowling. That's a good look for someone attending a fellow wingmate's birthday party. He takes one step into the room, sees Evandreus there with the flower on his cheek, and turns right around. "This is frakking bullshit," he growls, making to walk back out into the corridor. "A party with no booze and face-paint? What am I, frakking six years old?"

"Cheer up, Spiral!" Devlin says, clapping the older man on the shoulder as he enters. He's in his fatigues, but he's got a smallish string-strapped gymbag over one shoulder that looks like it probably contains a flightsuit. He lifts a hand to wave, "Hey, Evan. Happy Birthday."

Vandenberg arrives from the Deck 9.
Vandenberg has arrived.

Psyche is rocking the off-duty, bad-haircut look, her left arm swathed shoulder to wrist in bandages, but she's lost the pale and drawn look of someone for whom morpha is only barely taking the edge off the pain. In fact, she looks rather bright and alert, probably on nothing stronger than acetaminophen and good cheer. She grabs Pallas' arm as he attempts to escape, attempting to coax him away from the door. "Don't be an anger-ball, Bunky!" she smiles winsomely. "C'mon. It's important you be here to balance things out. Otherwise, fun and cute might reach toxic levels."

"Face paint? Nobody told me there was frakkin' face paint." the harshly-accented voice of McQueen intones, in his off-duties but also hefting a duffel bag on his shoulder as he trails in behind the other pilots. "Would have put on my Lions best for this. PICON PANTHERS ARE CHEATING SHITS!"

Lunair is here! She comes in just behind Psyche and has a basket with gauzey fabric drapped over it. It's a present! A small dozen of strawberries! Not -much- but likely all the Marine could pull. She smiles, looking around. A blink at Pallas. She quirks a brow and moves away. She's at least, politely silent about it but holds a distant, nearly regal demeanor. Likely how she deals with it. "Happy birthday." She sets the basket nearby.

"Frak you," Spiral grumbles to Devlin. "And wipe that frakking grin off your face. You didn't win the bet - she said she doesn't date patients, which isn't a no." But he turns back around to the party when Psyche grabs his arm. He's here, so for all intents and purposes, he lost the bet. "Riiiight," he says to her, rolling his eyes. "Let's paint my face and sing group songs while we're at it."

"She might not've spoke the word," Devlin replies to Pallas, grinning smirkily, "But those expressive eyes of hers were clearly yelling 'no frakkin' way' when you asked. Come onnn, it'll be fun! I promise not to paint a dick on your face. Well, not more than one, anyways."

It was told to a Duckling by a certain Bunny that his birthday is today and that there was gonna be a party, that being why Callie is here. With a small box in hand and a shy smile to be seen on her face. Not knowing anyone else, she looks for Evan and makes the beeline towards him, introductions and the like later.

Evandreus lifts his head as folk start to come wandering in, eyes lighting up at all the air-wingers. and even if his brows lower a little bit at Spiral's attitude, he can't help but grin, taking up a black marker and heading over to the group, giving Abs a big frakking hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Dude," he greets the guy, "Thanks for coming." Another big hug for Bubs, and then he's facing off with Spiral, "Will do," he tells him, uncapping the black marker and, if he's let to, swiping the fellow's upper lip with a cartoon handlebar moustache. "No face paints, sorry to say. Just marker," he grins, impish, then, squealing, "Duckling!" he squeezes the girl, and goes wide-eyed, a moment, at the present, "Wow, hey… thanks, Lu," he tells her, kind of blown away, before he puts the basket of strawberries out for people to partake of, "Everyone dig in, and we'll draw sides for charades!"

Vandenberg, not feeling entirel herself these last few days, slips into the room. She slides aorund the outside and heads for the birthday boy. Flopping arms around him from behind, she plants a big sloppy kiss on his cheek before she whispers in his ear and moves back off. She looks around at those in attendance and decides its probably better to stick to her wallflowerness.

"Oh, nooooo!" Psyche gasps, looking sad for Spiral indeed. "Not Nurse Slutty-Eyes? I'm sorry, Bunky. Maybe there's a statute of limitations on how long you're considered a patient?" Hope springs eternal, right? She swats Devlin as he shoots down the hopes she's trying to bolster. "Meanie," she says to him, then hops over to the birthday boy. "Hi! I made you a present." And out from behind her back comes a piece of dark blue construction paper covered in sequin stars. In the center of the picture is a fluffy white rabbit in a Raptor, the former made of cotton balls glued to the page. The Raptor is emanating squiggly lines of glitter, apparently ECM waves (who knew the were pink?) which have turned a small squadron of cartoony Raiders belly up, their red mono-eyes in the shape of Xes, like dead fish.

Trask arrives from the Deck 9.
Trask has arrived.

Pallas leans away swats at Evandreus' hand like he's being attacked by a swarm of bees when he realizes the man is going to try to draw on his face - too late. He gets a handlebar moustache drawn onto his face, and boy does he just look thrilled about it. "You draw a dick on my face, you're going to get my dick on your face," he warns Devlin with a warning finger. To Psyche, he just shakes his head. "Apparently she doesn't like being called that. Or Petty Slut Second Class Frakkable."

McQueen simply lets out a tuneless whistle as he edges on towards the small gathering.

Lunair seems pleased. "I wasn't sure what to bring. I hope you like them," She smiles politely. Though, her eyebrows -lift- on hearing the Air Wing discussion between Pallas, Devlin and Psyche. Ahem. "Righto." She rubs the back of her head. She smiles a bit at Psyche's present. "Hello there." She goes quiet as talk of sides being drawn starts and moves towards a familiar face - Vand!

Solstice arrives from the Deck 9.
Solstice has arrived.

Psyche continues looking sympathetic for Pallas' girl troubles, but advises, "Well, no one likes to be called second class frakkable. You should always tell a girl she looks like a first class frak, even if you're lying." She pecks a kiss to Lunair's cheek as the CMC officer sails by. "Lunie-poo!"

Devlin returns Evan's hug and then laughs as he boldly draws a mustache on Spiral, snickering about that for another minute even as he shakes his head, "I'm already afraid you're going to do that anyway just 'cause you feel like it. Besides, no marker. And true," he shakes his head at Psyche's advice, "Clearly that was the problem, Spiral, you should've called her Senior Chief Slut Officer Frakkable. Obviously." He waves to McQueen and Lunair and the others as they all arrive, and then starts to wander towards a seat, tugging on Psyche's hand a little.

"Well, then she really was a petty slut," Pallas snorts to Psyche, licking his thumb and rubbing at his marker-stache to see if it'll come off. Of course, he can't actually see it at all, so he looks at Devlin and points at it questioningly. "And," he says to the man, "if she wants a promotion, she's going to have to work for it. You don't get to Senior Chief without mastering your gag reflex." Grumbling, he licks his thumb again and rubs more vigorously. "Or Captain, for that matter, from what I hear."

Evandreus is snickering hopelessly at the newly moustachioed Spiral, capping his dastardly marker and biting the side of his tongue in a look of mischief before, "Promise?" he asks Spiral back, jestful. "Oh… guys…" other people are giving him pressies, now, too, and he looks bashful-eyed at Bubs and the Duckling. "Thanks," he tells them, opening up the box enough to peek inside, "Awww…" he lifts up the bunny statuette to show everybody. "These are great. I love you guys." And Bunny hasn't even been drinking. He's just kind of full of love. "Bubs! I choose you to be the other team captain. Let's choose up sides. Abs, c'mere." Abs is with Bunny.

A little late to the ball it would seem. Solstice hesitates at the rec room entrance, giving those gathered a long considering look. Public. Group. Two things that don't go well together for the ECO. She does well to hide her discomfort behind the placid set of her visage. She starts her stride over towards the others, all bubbly and embracing. She twitches faintly at the idea and then pauses not far off. Friendly faces all around. She feels galaxies apart and she clears her throat, swallowing back her urge to turn and run. Which doesn't last long as she starts to back up and turn.

Psyche blinks at the qualifications for promotion, according to Spiral. "I could have mustered in at Captain? Frakdamnit, why doesn't anyone tell me these things?" She blinks again she's named Team Captain (something else entirely, for which gag-reflex control helps her not at all), and looks around quick. "Oh! Wow. Okay. Uhm… Queenie! Over here with me, you witty bastard."

What would be a party without some colors more festive than the standard off-duty greens and brown and greys? When Bootstrap arrives, it's in the bright orange of the Deck, bling in the form of reflective tape. Keepin' it real, there's a small smudge of grease on the right side of his jaw, and he is heavily perfumed in eau de Knuckledragger. In his left hand, he's holding a red plaid gift bag.

Callie smiles. "I couldn't think of anything else to get you and Mother always told me that homemade gifts are the best. So!" Blushing, she toes at the deck while looking around, the others people she might have seen in passing but never ones she has gotten to know. "You have quite the little family," she adds, whispering it. With the chatter it might go missed entirely.

Lunair looks a bit troubled by Pallas' talk. A small frown appears. She smiles though, as Psyche greets her. "Hello there! How are you?" She murmurs. She just puts a hand over her mouth at all this talk. She rubs the back of her head and settles in to watch from a more distant spot by a wall.

"Oh, totally," Devlin agrees with Pallas, "You could just tell. I mean, you know she's totally gonna be in that storage closet later waiting for me, and she couldn't have missed the ring." He taps his wedding ring, going on, "I was flashing it really obviously like we agreed, too, and she didn't care. Dunno about that," he adds of Spiral's promotion prerequisites, "Pretty sure nobody's ever tested Poppy's. And Psy's not—" she makes the joke for him and he laughs anyway and then turns back to Bunny, "What?" He looks up to Evan and then nods and smiles, "Oh. Okay, in that case, we're gonna kick your ass, babe, sorry," he grins at Psyche and flops into a seat, lifting a hand to wave at Solstice as she sneaks in.

"Shakes! Come on over here, you're on my team," Evan calls out to his fellow Harrier. No, she's not going to be allowed to just turn around and leave. She's playing, like it or not. And then Boots comes in on her tail and he snugs up Callie with one arm and waves to Bootsies with the other.

"Sorry. I thought you were talkin t' someone /else/, Bubbs." McQueen suddenly pops out of his self-imposed stupor and in turn breaks towards a seat at Psyche's calling him out. Well, at least it's not getting picked last in dodge ball.

Devlin's wave is returned with a trill of her slender fingers through the air but the ECO looks about ready to flee for it. She is another backstep towards the door as she swallows and again makes a move and turns. Quick heel switch and she aboutfaces. Cue Evan. Defeat. Surrender. She turns back around and with a strained smile she clears her throat and takes a few more steps closer. "Sure…okay.." Says the ECO. Birthday boy gets his wish. Don't count your blessings.

Shakes moves about the pit of bodies and aims for Bunny.

Cidra slips into the Rec Room. In her flight suit, albeit sans helmet. The CAG is slated for CAP later and is taking what recreation she can before it touches off. That apparently includes this little get-together at present. She cranes her neck to catch Evandreus eye. Hello.

Psyche points across the room at Trask's bright-orange person. "Boots! My team!" They might not be BFFs, but she's totally not letting Bunny have him. No hive minds allowed!

"You?" Pallas laughs. "You could've come in directly to Major - at least." Evandreus just gets a grumbly sort of growl before another round of trying to wipe off the markerstache. "And Poppy could deep-throat a flak cannon without even blinking." As the crowd starts to get split off into teams, his hand slips into his pocket where he's been known to keep his trusty flask. It comes back out empty-handed when he spots the CAG coming in.

"Bun-Bun," Trask greets, making his way over even though something is seemingly underway. "Can't stay, but— " And then Psyche is calling his name and saying something about a team. A dubious look forms for the blonde. Yeeeeeeeah. Back to Evan, "but I wanted to drop this off while I had the chance and it was still your birthday." The giftbag is offered.

"Dude, so true," Devlin agrees with Pallas, shaking his head in a 'you have no idea' sort of way before laughing as he goes on about Poppy, "Yeah… I did not need to picture that." He lifts a hand to welcome Solstice to their team, somewhere between a wave and an offer of a high-five, who knows.

"That's because Poppy's mean enough that she's built with an unhinging jaw, the better to eat helpless babies," Psyche tells Pallas, then frowns as Trask announces his gift-and-run. "Balls. Sorry! Spiral, come sulk on my team," she says, editing her pick.

This is a pilot of Air Wing. And two Marines. Vandenberg glances to Lunair and then over to the CAG on her arrival. The S3 doesn't know whether to flee or hide. For now she just seems content to sit at the edge and enjoy a table to her own.

Evandreus tsks between his teeth as Boots is grabbed up for Psyche's team, but then looks all the more sad as it turns out he can't stay. He steps to and opens out his arms, hugging the Boots a long one before taking up the bag. "Thanks, Bootiekins," he gives the man a kiss on the cheek for good measure and looks down into the bag. "Oh, man. Little Kal and I are going to have -so- much awesome fun with these," he grins, pulling out the animal-headed marker set for folk to peek at, then, quieter, more warmly, "Thanks, hon." And Psyche's picked again, so, looking over toward the wall where Natalie's trying to hide, "Vandypants, get your Vandypants over here and play with me," he calls to her.

Psyche is quick to make her next pick, keeping it going. "Lunie-tunes! My team!" she calls, beckoning Lunair over.

Pallas lifts a finger at Psyche, giving her the point on that one. "Swallows 'em whole, like a snake. I like it. That's going onto the flight board." He actually looks surprised for a second when he gets picked while there are other options available. With a suspicious scowl, he saunters over to his team, giving them wary looks.

"I need to go too, Bunny," Callie says after Trask mentions not being able to stay himself. "But tell you what. I'll come looking for you later. Will give you a massage and some good old fashioned snuggles." She rises up on her toes to give the pilot a kiss on the cheek, hugging him. "Have fun and give me the details, please."

"OH. SHIT. Almost forgot. /Where oh where/ has my mind been, anyway?" McQueen suddenly blurts out, tilting his head at the newcomers and leaning over to start to fumble with the discarded duffel bag at the side of his chair, unzipping it and pulling out a paper bag, slinging it onto the nearest table surface towards Evandreus. "For you, man. Hope you like it, 's one-of-a-kind, you see."

Her strawberries safely delivered, Lun is sneaking towards van and the general direction of -away- and then Psyche spots her. O those Air Wingers and their sharp eyes. She laughs softly and smiles. "Alright," She nods. She seems pleased. "Congratulations," She offers to Evandreus, genuinely happy for him. She watches people for now.

Wait, what? Van blinks at hearing her 'name' being called. She was off in her own little world. The Marine rises and slowly makes her way over towards Team Bunneh. She's missed most of what's going on in the massive banter being tossed around the room. Add to that her own distractions and its a recipie for confusion.

Touchy feel-y, the Taurian is not. Like so many other people do, though, he makes an exception for Evandreus. The hug is returned in a brotherly manner. At the kiss on the cheek, however, Trask's nose does crinkle. "Anytime, Bub-Bun." A fond ruffle of the slightly taller's man's dark curls. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a hot date with a Viper that needs a nosejob."

"Cidra!" Devlin calls, "You should come be on our team."

The enthusiastic greeting is given a skeptical look for a moment and the ECO summons up a nod and a tidge more of a smile. Solstice takes a place near the back of the group and to the side. As Cidra is called, she looks up at the CAG sympathetically.

Psyche points indignantly at Devlin as Toast is stolen out from under her. "No fair! I didn't see her, and that makes your team bigger, and I can TOTALLY withhold sex, don't think I can't!"

Evandreus shrugs up his shoulders at the ruffling, then, "Aw," he smiles. "I'll see you later with mum, yah?" is his farewell, and then he's snugging in with the Duckling again, "You bet, hon," he tells her. "C'mon, Cid, come play with us," he joins in goading with Devlin, "Five against four isn't all that uneven," he points out, innocently going about opening up the bag from McQueen and— oh. Oh, dear. "Queenie…" he starts, his cheeks going almost as red as the flower markered on his cheek. No, he's not pulling it out to show all and sundry.

"Liar! I'm not falling for that," Devlin replies, "Toast is ours, I saw her first! Right guys?" He turns to Evan, Vandenberg and Solstice, looking for some back-up, and then back to Cidra, and Psyche, adding, "Besides, it's Evan's birthday!" That point made, he turns back to smile at the blonde marine offering, "Hey, Alex Devlin. Have we met?"

"If you do not mind?" Cidra smirks, ever so faintly, at Devlin's holler at her. "I had only come to watch. I am not really much for parlor games, but I can give it a try. And much happy tidings, Bunny."

Callie leaves, heading towards the Deck 9 [Out].
Callie has left.

"Oh, c'mon. Growing old should be a scary process. Seriously, you can mount that damn thing in the head as a warning against sneaking extra pudding cups!" McQueen declares, adding in an ominous tone with an outstretched finger — "THIS COULD BE YOU."

Mission accomplished, Trask heads on out and back to the Repair Bay. Cidra, however, is the recipient of an amused 'ha ha' sort of look as he passes her by.

Solstice gives a long look at Trask. A 'save me now' glance as she watches all the interaction around her. She draws a deep breath and just manages to keep herself quietly preserved. As the smaller blonde is summoned to their team, the ECO gives a faint recognition with an upturn of her lips and a nod of her head. "Hey." She intones. Shakes eyes the door and then Trask leaving. Envy.

Cidra eyes Trask as he goes. Just eyes him mildly. And then, as he exits, she sticks her tongue out at him. Blink and you miss it.

Competitive Psyche huffs, but cannot argue with the Birthday Boy logic. "Fine. You guys can have Toast because it's Bunny's birthday. You're still not getting laid tonight," she tells Devlin, pointing pointily.

"Yeah, and I came because I wanted to get this thing drawn on my face and play charades," Pallas growls to Cidra when she tries to back out, pointing to his markerstache. "If I'm playing, you're playing, Toast."

Trask leaves, heading towards the Deck 9 [Out].
Trask has left.

Evandreus draws his lips together tightly, trying valiantly not to smile. Or to laugh. He clears his throat, then, popping both eyebrows upward toward McQueen, "There's nothing wrong with a little pudding. Just means there's more to love," he points out, lifting up his chin. "I'll use it every night," he tells the guy, though he might just be saying so to try to get a little of his own back with some mental image-induced brain scarrage.

"Hey, more power to you if y' do." McQueen's thick eyebrows in turn waggle back towards Evandreus, snickering roughly. To Cidra - "TOAAAST! Hey, there's a seat for you. It's a morale-building event. Sir!"

Evandreus clears his throat, raises his voice, "Okay, that's teams, then. Everyone get comfy. Bubs, you're up first," he lets her know, then, setting down that bag somewhere… out of the way… he goes to meet Psyche in the neutral ground between the teams to deliver the clue.

"That is an interesting look, Spiral," is Cidra's dry observation to Pallas. The markerstache clearly puzzles her, but she does not ask. "I will play." And she settles on a couch adjacent to her team to, well, get to playing. "Morale. Indeed."

Psyche eeps! She looks about in a mini-panic. "Okay! Here goes nothing!" Then she bounds up to meet Bunny for the parlay, leaning her ear in to hear the clue.

"He drew it on himself," Devlin informs Cidra blithely of Pallas's markerstache, "Said he'd always wanted one but since they're against regulations he just hasn't been able to grow it for real. It makes him feel more manly." He grins, and then settles back on the couch, sprawling comfortably and watching as Evan delivers the clue to Psyche. While the Raptor pilot is up, he leans over and peeks into the bag McQueen gave him.

Evandreus leans in to deliver the clue and then hops along to the couch to hunker down with his team and watch the fun.

McQueen merely reclines a bit in his seat, his ankle arched and propped atop his other leg, tapping the foot on the ground expectantly.

A gaze is given to the bag as well in interest to what could make the Bunny blush. Shakes then clears her throat and moves closer to Decoy. "So share." she says after he is done peering.

"Men like me grow moustaches overnight, boy," Pallas says to Devlin. "I had one before. Some women like the moustache ride, some don't. The last one didn't, and I never bothered growing it back out again." He sits down and leans back, looking ready to not participate in the game. "Though I think you could pull one off," he adds to Cidra.

Devlin blinks at the contents of the bag, and then frowns, his expression waffling between horrified and amused. "Oh man," he says, looking up at Queenie and just laughing, horrified, "Dude! I… don't even know. What to say to that." He laughs some more and sinks back into the couch, shaking his head at Solstice, "I don't think you want to know. Some things can't be unseen, you know?"

Psyche makes a pained face and sighs, biting her bottom lip in thought for a second and then hopping around to face her team. She sets up the guessing with her palms in the shape of an open book, then holds up two fingers. Raising her eyebrows a bit to make sure they're following, she holds up one finger. Then one finger again. First word, first syllable. Then, she steeples her index fingers, thumbs meeting beneath like a crossbar.

Cidra blinks, precisely twice, at Pallas. Inscrutably. Then she looks away and concentrates on the game. Head tilted, blue eyes follow Psyche in a birdlike sort of manner.

McQueen's eyebrows then wander over towards Devlin with a similar expression, stifling any actual sounds made, before settling down to watch Psyche work.

A brow raises on Sols' face and she nods her head slowly. "Trying to protect me Decoy?" She asks. Shakes folds her arms and rests on the arm of the couch. She gives a shift of her hips and looks towards Psyche and Evandreus. Shakes and whispers beneath her breath what she thinks it is.

Evandreus keeps an eye on the chronometer every now and then, only curling up his legs underneath him and looking at Psyche again in order to call out, laughing, "Hey, no finger spelling." Which. Probably gives the other team more of a clue than hinders them at all. But who's counting? He looks back toward Devlin with an almost apologetic smile for his having had to see that. But he did bring it on himself.

Hmmm. Lunair tilts her head and squints, trying to think. She rubs the back of her head. Clearly, CMC does not pride itself on Charades Champions.

Pallas glances up at Psyche and rattles off random words that don't fit in with the clue that Bunny gives at all. "Triangle. Arrow."

Psyche shakes her head at Pallas. She cups her hand to her ear, indicating 'sounds like' and then places her palms together, raising her eyes to the heavens in supplication.

McQueen merely sounds off the syllable "A" as in 'apple' or 'at', tilting his head and arcing a brow.

Pallas shrugs at the next clue. "Sounds like… bread. Seizure." How are those two things even related?

Psyche points at Queenie excitedly and does her 'sounds like' again, once more folding her hands, this time bowing her head.

Evandreus squints his eyes unevenly and looks aside to the villain in the ahndlebar 'stache. Seizure?

"I can totally grow a mustache at least as fast as you can," Devlin retorts to Pallas before falling silent to watch the guessing. At the 'bread' and 'seizure' guesses, he can't help but snigger.

Hmmm. "Hmmm." Squint. Gods, Lunair looks lost. "Prayer, church, supplication?" She rubs the back of her head. "Maybe a monastary? Gods, I should've warned them I was bad at this," She looks bemused, purple eyes bright. Hrrrm.

Pallas starts calling out more random stuff. "Apple coma." He leans to the side to give Devlin a disbelieving look. "Sounds like you want to make another bet."

Psyche points at Lunair on her first guess, but squeezes her hands together. Shorter word. Moving on, first word, second syllable: she draws her hands up close to her, body straight up and down, and does a little jump in the air, like a bunny. Moving on again, second word, sounds like: she sits on an invisible chair, smoothing her hands across an invisible surface in front of her and down its sides. She then points down at the thing she just traced with her hands.

"Uhh. Sneeze? Just throwin' this one out there." McQueen shrugs his shoulders lamely, looking unconvinced of his own guess.

Psyche does it all one more time, hoping to bring it all together. Book. Two words. First word, first syllable: A triangular shape that sounds like 'pray.' First word, second syllable, sounds like: a tiny jump, like a rabbit would take. Second word, sounds like: a surface at which one would sit. Go!

A brow raises at the entire show and she itches to get up and make a mad dash for it. She smiles towards Lunair a moment and then is quick to clear her throat and shift, nearly sliding off the side of the arm of the couch.

Evandreus watches Psyche go through her clues, then, as Shakes starts to slip, he lunges and grabs her about the waist, pulling her back onto the couch side of the arm, and straight into his lap, if she'll let him. Cuddlebug.

Psyche flops forward, grinning ruefully at her silent team. "Nothin', huh?"

Pallas calls out, "Sounds like jump. Hump." Yeah, there's a surprise. "Bump. Second word… the frak is that supposed to be, Bubbles? Sounds like… ass-groove." He throws his hands up and sits back in his chair, grumbling something to himself.

Headtilt and her eyes wide. She wrinkles her nose. She goes quiet then. lunair rubs the back of her head. "Hop… chair…" Hrrm. "Rayhop Chair…" "Nope. I got nothing." She laughs softly.

"Pre-op Trannychair?" McQueen looks /very/ nonplussed. "Something for everyone I suppose."

"I am totally challenging you, Spiral," Devlin replies with a nod, "Bring it. Chair? It was table!" he points out, "She made a table!" He repeats the gesture and then admits, "No idea what the hells it was th—" he breaks off to laugh out loud at McQueen's guess.

Psyche bursts out laughing. "Ass groove? The frak is wrong with you?" she asks Pallas, grinning. "You're so damaged — !" She chokes and laughs until she can barely breathe at Queenie's guess. "And you're WORSE!"

There is an outright sound of surprise and indignant muffled surprise. Solstice's eyes widen as she thusly pulled into a cuddle. Her body goes stiff and Shakes visibly shakes with the close contact. Swallow. Breathe. "I know it's your birthday, Bunny.." Her cheeks are as red as a turnup and she watches Bubbles explode in laughter.

"Best thing I could come up with, I'm afraid," McQueen's admission comes apologetically. "And hey, beauty is a varied and many-facted thing. But sorry, I can't call this one." He says, throwing in the proverbial towel.

Psyche takes a deep breath. "Since I think we officially lose this round, here." She makes her steepled fingers again. "A." Long A, like 'ache'. "Hop," she does her little jump. "Table." She raises her eyebrows. "A book, that sounds like Ahop Table."

Evandreus draws his head back and laughs at the ensuing ruckus. "Time!" he finally calls out. "Go on, Bubs, tell 'em," he grins, and, settling Shakes on the sofa, he wriggles out from behind her to go into the lion's den and get a clue from Psyche, giving the blushing ECO a hairruffle on his way up.

And /just/ then, McQueen shoots up an arm. "'M I out of guesses, yet? Sorry, my hearing's a bit rusty. I think I just put that one together."

Psyche grins and shakes her head. "You can guess, but I don't think it counts, since I've been talking it out."

Evandreus isn't going to be a stickler, though. It's never good to be a rules lawyer, not even on your birthday. "What is it, Queenie?" he asks him, going to snag up Psyche in his arms to give her a cuddle and try to cuddle a clue out of her the meanwhile.

Plunked onto the couch, Shakes tries to fix her hair, giving her curls a brush back into place. Her hands reach down to smooth her sweats and place herself back together. She clears her throat - her habitual process of her's. SHe looks up to her team leader and waits. Concentrating on the clues about to come.

"/EEEESOP/'s fables." McQueen says, smugly. "Of course, all you've been brainwashed by good bland Capricaspeak an' don't pronounce your 'E''s properly. Should've got n' accent waiver. Ah, well. It's not my fault you all speak like lawyers, yeh?"

Psyche gives Evan a big hug and a good snuggle, whispering his team's clue to him.

"Woo! Thank you, Queenie!" Psyche grins and points at McQueen. "That's totally correct, Mr. Trannychair. Thank you."

"The frak is Aesop's Fables?" Pallas asks disgustedly. "I liked Pre-Op Trannychair better. That's something I'd read." He leans over toward Devlin again. "And you, you're on. We'll discuss the stakes later. Moustache measure-in every morning at oh-seven-hundred daily for a week."

Psyche looks vaguely alarmed and glances back and forth between Pallas and Devlin, alarm resolving into horror. "Huh? What? Buh?" she sputters. "Alex Devlin, did you just make a deal with Spiral to grow a frakking moustache?"

McQueen merely gives Psyche a mock-bow of his head, with equally-mock smugness. Pallas gets a comment now, however, "If you're looking for reading material, Spiral, I'm pretty sure we can scavenge something out of Trask's locker. Just offerin'."

Evandreus leans in to get his clue from Psyche, wrinkling up his nose a little at the clue, gears almost visibly turning in his head. He stands up straight, squares his shoulders and narrows his eyes for a moment before he starts, putting his fists on his hips with his elbows out to his sides. A person. One finger raised. One word. Pats his forearm with four fingers. Four syllables. And, licking his lips, he turns to his side, lifting out one arm, bent at the elbow, to hold his left forearm horizontally across the left side of his chest while he raises his right arm, fingers and thumb rounded as though around some imaginary item, and he swings his arm about, twisting his back and grimacing theatrically as he raises his arm and swings it down again time and time again, carrying on in this manner for a short while before he turns back to his team and jumps up and down, all sorts of excited, pumping his fists in the air.

Vandenberg, who has been trying to figure this out, stares at Evan. "Uh. Toy soldiers?"

Psyche, still staring at her husband in horror, leaps out of the way of Bunny's flailing only at the last minute. Flailing herself to keep balance and failing, she goes topple sprawling onto the couch. "I hate moustaches…" she laments, sighing, taking a mournful look at Devlin like she's never going to see his face again. Finally, she leans over and whispers the clue she gave Evan to her team.

Cidra looks inscrutable some more, shifting a look between Pallas and Devlin. Well, she let Lieutenant Bell keep his goatee for months on end without forcing him to shave. Who knows? Attention focuses on Evandreus as he starts gesticulating. All of intent curiosity. The seriousness with which she approaches studying him might be almost comical. "Four syllables…Pyramid…er." Yeah, probably not.

Evandreus pauses in his pantomime to bobble his head at Vandy, kind of vaguely encouraging the thought process there before he puts his hands on his hips again. Person or character. Cid gets a sort of a squint and a shake of his head.

Solstice ran track, thank goodness for that. She looks to Cidra and lifts a brow. "I have no clue to be honest, Bunny is just confusing me." She looks at the way he is going on and on and hides her smirk behind her hand before it dies down into her usual impassive expression. Shakes gives a shake of her head and shrugs her shoulders. "Marines…" She starts, giving Vandenberg a look.

Devlin watches, frowning thoughtfully, and guesses, "Cheerleader?"

Van shrugs to Shakes. Hell if she knows. "Good a guess as any." She then looks back to Evan and rolls her hands.. "Marine Fanboy?"

Psyche watches Evan and his team with a grin, then asides to Spiral, "You'd read a book called, "Pre-op Trannychair?" Really?"

"Templar Leader?" is Cidra's next guess. Maybe it's a Gemenon thing. She makes it, again, with utter seriousness.

"Are any of these things things?" Devlin asks Vandenberg and Cidra, brows raised skeptically. And then he looks back across at Pallas and Psyche, the former first: "Nooo, we are so picking stakes before we begin the contest. And… and… maybe," he says to his wife, "I might've. But it'll only be for a few days! Just til I win. Or he does. I don't really know who can grow one faster, t'be honest."

Lunair rubs the back of her head. She seems amused by the moustache exchange. "I wonder which is worse, Wifely Wrath or Pallasy Wrath." She rubs her chin. Lunair is mostly glad she has hair these days really. She watches E and looks thoughtful. Hmmm. "Wow. I am bad at this."

"It'd be one of those ones with pictures. Graphic novels," Pallas answers to Psyche. "Fine, Decoy, name your bet. Better be something good, because I know I'm going to win this one."

"I'm focusing!" Devlin protests at Pallas, "We'll pick the stakes after the game. Just before the contest." To Evan he wonders, "Executioner?"

Evandreus scrunches up his nose at Devlin's guess, gesturing at Vandy, instead, holding up that arm across his chest and moving his other hand in front of it to rub his palm in a big circle in front of it. He then lifts one foot high up into the air, taking a careful step to his right, then lifting up the other foot just as high to bring his feet together again. Half-squatting there, he rocks gently back and forth, both hands balled into fists and held one on top of the other as they lift up to his right and then sweep down toward his right hip, lift up to his left and then sweep down in an arc toward his left hip, lift up to his right and then sweep down toward his right hip. This rhythmic motion is periodically interrupted by Evandreus stopping to scratch his head and peer around in confusion, or to glance at the top of his wrist.

"But you'll look like a porn star!" Psyche laments to Devlin. "And not the good kind!" She sighs, slouching down to sulk. Deal's made, not like there's anything she can do about it now. She reaches over and combs her fingers affectionately through Lunair's hair. "I think we're all equally bad," she tells the violet-eyed woman, grinning. "I'm really glad to see you, though."

"Honour guard…" Shakes tries and furrows her brows. Shakes - involved?

Van looks totally baffled. "Ski patrol?" she laughs.

"They are things, Ensign," Cidra replies to Devlin. Just a touch defensive of her things. "Man-Who-Is-Lost?" Umm. Well, it is a thing.

Evandreus wrinkles up his nose at Vandy, shaking his head as he moves one fist to each side and begins shoving downward to either side of him at once. Not that. Rather, this: going back to using both hands to do one side, then the other. He then nods excitedly at Cidra, goading her on, wide-eyed.

"I always look like a porn star. The good kind," Devlin retorts promptly to Psyche before watching Evan, again, looking increasingly baffled. "Umm. Are you poling a gondola? But your passenger is late? Ski patrol! I like that one. No? Soldier on skis?" He looks surprised as Evan gestures at Cidra. "A skiier who is lost?"

Evandreus flails excitedly at Abs as he guesses the gondola, encouraging him to go on in that train of thought. Man who is lost. Gondola.

Van stares. She's lost. She's confused. She's had three guesses.

McQueen innocuously starts picking at his duffel bag, inspecting the contents with a sidelong glance. Maybe he has another inflatable dummy in there. Gods help you all.

Cidra looks surprised as well that her guess landed anywhere near anything, blue eyes narrowing in that super serious manner. Ignoring all the chatter about porn stars. Which is probably an added bonus. She takes one more guess, at the gesturing. "Lost gondola?" That's all she's got apparently. Blink, blink.

"At least Bunny got a work out." Shakes says weakly, completely confused as well. "How did we get to Gondola again from soldiers?" She looks nonplussed.

"I have no idea," Devlin replies to Solstice, looking confused that Bunny liked that guess. "Soldiers wouldn't be in gondolas. Ummm." He runs a hand through his hair, thinking. "Uhh. Someone lost in a gondola? Lost gondoleer?" Is that what you call them?"

Evandreus continues with the pantomime, hoping the last bit will help his team along. He continues moving his arms, one side, then the other, one side, then the other, looking about, lost, then, eyes widening, he points off into the distance and starts moving his arms all the faster, standing up and doing the exaggerated left foot step, right foot step again, falling to his knees and kissing the floor, then jumping up again, one fist out in front of him on an outstretched arm while his other fist draws back to his ear and then lets go of whatever it was he was gripping onto. He repeats this action a few times, outstretched arm pointed in different directions as he squints down the line of his arm in concentration. Then, finally, he turns his back to his teammates, wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing the sides of his ribs in the international sign for sloppy makeouts, then turns around with a grin and a thumbs-up. The end.

Vandenberg says, "Tom Franks in that long-ass movie about a desert island. He worked for FedEx or something."

"Lost virginity?" Cidra guesses, as if hit suddenly by inspiration. Then she frowns. "Too many syllables, yes?"

Pallas eyes Cidra. "You sounded really excited about that one, Toast," he says dryly.

"Cupid in a gondola?" Devlin guesses before laughing at the exchange between Pallas and Cidra. "Pre-op trannyboat?"

Psyche leans over and flicks Pallas' earlobe in rebuke.

Shakes is at a loss and she looks to Decoy. "I fear I am no help in this…" Her voice trails off at the CAG's suggestion. Her brows lift and she clears her throat. "Returning home." IS all she can think of with her brain being fried by the Major.

Evandreus puts his hand to his forehead. Oh, Lords. And then he just puts his hands back on his hips. He's a character. A soldier. Who got lost. Perhaps in a boat of some kind. Anyone? Anyone? Shakes finally gets a frantically beseeching gesture of encouragement. Solider, lost in a gondola, who came home.

Evandreus … four syllables.

Psyche sputters and flops forward, laughing until there are tears in her eyes over 'Pre-op trannyboat.' Nice.

"OH!" Devlin suddenly shouts, "Odysseus! It's totally Odysseus! Right?" He points at Psyche.

"It is a thing," Cidra defends her guess, not dignifying Pallas' quip with a response. "Oh!" Her next guess is more serious. "Odysseus." In unison with Devlin.

Psyche woots and applauds for the other team. "Nice work! Bunny, you get ten gahzillion bonus points for pantomiming the ENTIRE FRAKKING ODYSSEY!"

Evandreus collapses dramatically onto the floor. "Thhhhaaaaank you," he tells his teammates. Re-enacting the whole Odyssey in pantomime form took a lot out of him.

Shocked. Virginity to Odysseus - but then again that isn't such a large leap. Shakes presses fingers to her lips and hides the smile that starts to rise. She shifts and leans over her legs on the couch, resting her elbows upon her legs and looks over to Devlin, "Decoy, always pulling the stops at the last minute."

Pallas starts when Psyche flicks him in the ear, giving her a poisonous look. "You're lucky you're a good frakking wingman, or you wouldn't've gotten away with that," he says, glaring at her.

Psyche makes sweet puppy eyes at Pallas and shapes her thumbs and forefingers into a heart. Lub!

Vandenberg tilts her head forard, -staring-. "I haven't read that in about twenty years. We could have sat here for a decade and it never would have occured to me."

Evandreus reaches out and grabs Abs' ankle, dragging himself back to the foot of the couch and sitting there on the floor. "Spiral, you're up. Abs, make it a hard one," he encourages his teammate with a grin.

"You skipped the bits with the giants," Devlin chides Bunny teasingly, "And Circe. And the sirens. That was so far from the whole Odyssey." He grins, though, a big bright smile, and then reaches over to offer Cidra a high-five before blinking, "Wait, it's my turn? Shit. Ummm." He thinks for a minute before getting up and stepping over, or as much as he can with Evan clinging to his ankle.

Lunair stifles a giggle at Cidra's virginity guess. She is in awe and nods. "That is impressive!" She agrees, looking to Evandreus. She moves to offer Evandreus juice or - what is here? Hrrm. She looks a bit lost. But for now, time to watch Spiral mime.

Cidra claps Devlin's hand. It's a little stiff for a real 'high five,' but she tries. When Pallas gets up to mime she settles in. Looking pre-amused in addition to generally inscrutable.

"You guys could barely guess 'dude in a boat,' how were you supposed to guess giants and sirens?" Evan snickers, then actually cackles at Vandy. "For a decade," he grins. 'Cause Odysseus was lost at sea for ten years.

Pallas blinks, caught by surprise at 'being up' while rolling his eyes at Psyche's finger-heart. "What." It's not even a question. "I am not 'up'. That wasn't part of the frakking bet. I showed up, I'm staying for the duration, but there was no Gods-be-damned charades-clause in the agreement." Happy birthday, Bunny, he's only here because he has to be!

"Come on, Spiral!" Devlin laughs, "I'll make up a good one for you."

Evandreus is content, for now, to watch Pallas expectantly. He has spoken. Spiral is, indeed, 'up.' And Evan's gone all snuggly with Vandy's legs. Purr.

Oh, and look, there's juice, too. Evan smiles at Lunair and reaches up to nab the juice from her. "Pass the strawberries, please?" he goes on to add. 'Cause there are strawberries for having.

Psyche nudges Pallas gently with her shoulder. "C'mon, Bunky… what can it hurt?" she coaxes.

Pallas listens to the clue that he's given; a look of outrage flashes across his face. "When you lose this moustache bet," he growls to Devlin, "I am going to have you roll into the CIC naked and give Pewter a frakking lap-dance." Standing up with a look of 'I hate you all', he regards his team blankly before giving them some really messed up signs. Two words, five syllables? Fifth word, two syllables? He sighs and rubs his face. One finger held up - first word. Two fingers on the forearm - two syllables. He gestures with two squeezing hands on his chest, then nods. Then he grabs an imaginary penis with both hands and shakes his head. Then he makes a slicing motion with his hand at the base of that imaginary penis, then shakes his head and taps on his wrist.

As Spiral begins to mime, Shakes can't help it and calls out, "Spiral being turned down after grabbing a woman's boobs." She coughs, her hand going back over her mouth.

For being the oddest Marine officer around, at least Lunair's thoughtful and house broken. "Of course, I brought them for you." Beam. She passes the basket over. There's about a dozen or two, not a -whole- lot, but likely whatever she could wheedle out. Though, leave it to Pallas to resort to penises. Her eyebrows lift. "I …" She just shakes her head and seems content to make sure Evan is duly passed the strawberries. She smiles at Psyche, quietly enjoying the company. "This one will take me a bit…" Hmmm. "Oooh."

"I do not believe you are allowed to talk while giving your clue, Spiral," Cidra tsk-tsks Pallas dryly. Clearly being rolled naked into CIC is vital to whatever he's trying to convey.

Solstice's gaze narrows on the man and then as Devlin comes back to his teams side she leans over to Devlin as he returns, lifting a brow to him. She taps her ear to him, as if to signal she would like to know.

Evandreus takes a strawberry from the basket and then passes the basket up to Vandy and Cidra, ending up resting with his head on Cidra's knee and his arm around Vandy's calf. Evan. He loves him the wimmins. And suckles at the strawberry, settling in to enjoy watching Spiral charade it up.

Vand looks completely content to have Evan wrapped up around her legs. She doesn't even pay it a second thought. A strawberry is taken with wide eyes and passed along. She stares at it for a long moment as if unsure how to fully appreciate what is in her hand. OMG. STRAWBERRY. She misses Pallas for the moment and his Pen-15 gestures.

Devlin snickers at Pallas, clapping him on the shoulder, "Oh, come on! It'll be fun." He grins and then returns to his seat, glancing sideways at Solstice and then whispering in her ear.

"It's definitely not what I originally thought the /last/ one was." McQueen starts, listlessly.

Pallas points at McQueen, eyes wide. Nodnodnodnodnod.

Psyche squints at Pallas, following his motions very carefully. "Boobs. Not a penis. Cutting off the penis. Tranny? Pre-op?"

Pallas whirls to point at Psyche as well and nods repeatedly.

Biting at her lips, Solstice seems amused as Pallas seems to say 'pick me' with his eyes. Shakes gives Decoy a sly look and shakes her head as to say 'shame on you'. "With their minds..this one is a give away…" She rests her head upon her hand, bemused as her couchmate is considered again.

Psyche bursts out laughing. "Pre-op trannychair?"

"Oh come on!" Devlin laughs at Psyche, "You couldn't make him try to act ou the chair part?"

"Wingman," Pallas says, indicating that Psyche got it. "Good, I'm done. Frak me." He sits back down and looks visibly relieved to not be standing there stroking an imaginary cut-off penis anymore.

Psyche bahs at Devlin. "I have nothing to say to you and your future moustache. Ew." She sticks her tongue out at him.

Evandreus cackles as the truth comes out, "Aaaabs," he whines playfully. "They would have guessed that no matter what he'd done," he points out, trying to control a giggle from escaping his chest. "And now you get to take one from Spiral," he reminds Devlin. Surely he didn't intend for that to be a double entendre. Surely not.

"You're going to love it," Devlin informs Psyche, making a face back at her, "Just wait. Oh, shit, that makes it my turn? I so did not think of that." Idiot. He does not quite slap himself in the forehead, but he is clearly thinking of it, as he gets up with a sigh, and leans over to see what revenge Spiral is going to enact.

"Ah…" is Cidra's primary response to that particular answer. Blink blink. "My gods…" That last softer at the strawberry, which she does not hesitate to take. "Bunny, this is lovely." She takes a bite, a small one. She'll savor this, as it's not a treat one gets every day. She observes Devlin with lofted brows, expression one of wary sympathy for the ensign and whatever he'll be forced to do.

"Oh, Gods. What in the name of all that is decent did I bloody /start/?" McQueen asks, haplessly, his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

Oh dear. "Good job!" Lunair grins at Psyche, resisting the urge to high-five her and seeming far too amused. She looks pleased that the strawberries are going over well - few as they are. There's a quiet happiness. She leans against a wall, waiting now for the new Charade.

Psyche grins and rests her head affectionately on McQueen's shoulder, for a moment. "An assembly of unlikely words so awesome that we're going to have to form a band." She grins a Lunair and gives her two thumbs up.

Evandreus turns his head to land a kiss on Cid's thigh. Which would be a lot more sketchy if she wasn't wearing a flightsuit at the time, or if he weren't the Bunny. "Lu brought them for me. Pass them around. It's so nice having everyone come around for this, the least I can do is share a treat."

Devlin just stares at Pallas. "No," he replies, shaking his head, "Nooooo. No way in hell I am doing that. At least yours wasn't that specific!"

"Fine," Pallas concedes, "just the second word. But that's your loss."

"My loss of what?" Devlin replies with a laugh, "Man, fine. Fine, I will do it, but I want everyone to know that Spiral made this up, NOT ME. And I totally don't approve. Or anything." He sighs, and rakes a hand through his hair, considering. Buying himself time, he holds up two fingers. Two words. First word. He points at the CAG.

Poor Decoy. Shakes looks to Cidra and then hmmms, "Officer." She offers, tilting her head as she considers Pallas than the CAG.

"Me," is Cidra's deadpan guess. Pallas is eyed. Preemptively.

Evandreus looks from the finger to the person it's pointing at, then back to Abs. "Toast?" Either the person or the food. But he suspects it's the person, based on the preliminary flippery.

"Head Honcho," Van opines.

Psyche squirms in her seat and cries out, "MILF!" She stops and eyeshifts. "Stands for Major I'd Like to Fly with."

Devlin nods at Cidra. Apologetically. He then gestures that he's moving on to the second word, two syllables. First syllable sounds like…. He points up over his head and then makes a sort of 'or, alternatively' gesture and brings two fingers to his lips, narrowing his eyes and inhaling, then smiling and stumbling a little bit like he's dizzy. But happy.

McQueen shrugs haplessly again up at Psyche. With a smirk at the end.

"High," Evan shouts out. "Sounds like high."

Cidra blinks. *Eyeing* Devlin. Poor little ensign. "Drunk?" she guesses primly.

Lunair watches and laughs softly at the discussion. She rubs the bback of her head. A beam and a … how do people do this? Clearly out of touch with most common culture, Lunair attempts a thumbsup. Very odd for the Lun but. She looks amused. "Hmmm…"

Sawyer arrives from the Deck 9.
Sawyer has arrived.

Evandreus shakes his head. "Tie… sigh…" he starts guessing words that rhyme with high, but he doesn't seem really ready to guess, yet, since he doesn't know the second syllable.

Devlin points at Evan and thumbs-up, then makes the 'sounds like' gesture again and then waves it off, Xing his hands across each other and giving Evan another thumbs-up. Then the gesture for second word, second syllable.

Evandreus says, "No, not sigh. High."

Evandreus interprets for Abs.

Devlin nods and thumbs up again.

Devlin then moves on, again gesturing to indicate this is the second syllable of the second word. He points at himself, and then Evan, and then Pallas and McQueen, each very deliberately. He points at Psyche and Lunair and makes another X gesture with his hands at each of them.

Evandreus has totally got this. A hand shoots up excitedly, like he was at school, "Hymen!" he shouts out, more excitedly than that word should ever really get shouted.

Psyche stares a moment. Blankly. Then slowly turns to stare at Spiral. Blankly. "Really?" she asks with flat incredulity.

Cidra eyes Pallas. No particularly expression, beyond inscrutable glaring. Her mouth opens, then promptly closes again at Evandreus guess. "Ah." That wasn't so much a guess as an incredulous syllable.

If the ship could get even more small and uncomfortable for the ECO - it just has. From one topic to the next, they are flipping quite rapidly. Solstice clears her throat quickly and stares at Decoy. The portrayal was rather good, she had to admit. Charades was really not her thing. Especially charades with cuddling people and the lech that was Spiral. Shakes sits back up, eyeing that door keenly.

Devlin points at Evandreus. He doesn't look like he wants to do it, but he does, and then shrugs, hands opening in an apologetic, abdicating-all-responsibility-for-this way as he gestures, then, at Cidra. And then announces, "That's good enough, I think."

Amused Marine is still amused. She is just happy to *be* here really. Lunair smiles and quirks her brows, then lifts them. She turns a bright red. A faint couugh. Ahem. "Well…" She IS married to an ECO after all! Still, she stifles a giggle. "No comment." A girl never tells. Right? Right. She looks to Shakes. "Are you thirsty?" She offers politely. There's likely a few strawberries still left too - precious red gems that they are. Though she looks over to Devlin and offers in a polite, horribly upper class tone: "I suspect making comments on women's sexual habits is unwise to your continued existence." Wink.

Pallas shrugs to Psyche. "I knew they'd get it, I just figured it'd be funny to watch Decoy squirm over it. Besides, Toast got really frakking excited about lost virginity earlier." When Devlin announces 'good enough', he says, "Whao, whao, whao. Nobody's guessed the answer yet."

Psyche sighs at Pallas. "BUN-kee!" It's a tone of rebuke generally reserved for puppies who just went piddle on the rug.

"Stay classy, man. Stay classy. Then again anyone who's turnin' their nose up at him, bloody well believe they wish they thought of it themselves." McQueen intones sagely. He finishes this statement with a loud, pronounced belch. Stay classy indeed. He's a guru.

"YUSS!" Evan's a Leontinian, through and through— a people never exactly renowned for their ability to be shy about discussing intimate parts of the human anatomy. So, whatever awkwardness might be lurking on the couches behind him, he just seems happy to have guessed the charade. "Dude, it's Cid's hymen," he lets Spiral know, unflappably blunt.

"Suicide mission," is Cidra's guess. Legs crossing. Posture *very* rigid. "It is poor form to send ensigns on them, you know, Lieutenant Ellinon."

"Hey," Devlin defends, "I am not commenting on anybody's habits. I am just acting out words. Words for body parts. That is all. Thank you, Evan. Yes. That's what it was. We are still winning!" He heads back to his seat, and on the way, in what has to be (has to be, right?) a joke, offers up his hand to Cidra for a high-five.

Looking to Lunair, Shakes gives a nod of her head, "By the Lords, yes." she intones rather swiftly. Solstice gives a shake of her head and offers the woman a strained smile. "I came for my fellow Harrier…don't normally take the time.." She admits to the violet eyed woman. Whatever drink she is given she takes.

"Yes. Yes, it is," Pallas confirms, pointing to Evandreus. "Happy frakking birthday." He gives McQueen a thumbs-up as well, uncharacteristically in a good mood about Cidra's Hymen. "So it is, Major Hahn," he answers Cidra in that same tone of voice. "I, however, have never been known to shrink from bad form."

A reporter slips through the hatch, like a shark smelling chum in the water. Where there is fun, it will be spoiled with Noisy Nelly. Or usually, at least. It seems Sawyer isn't working this evening as she slips through the hatch holding a small plain white box tied up in a red shoelace. The journalist gives cheap gifts, and that extends to the wrapping it seems. She slips in and around the crowd, threading to the birthday boy.

Psyche snorts, apparently of the opinion that Pallas just said a mouthful. She raises an imaginary glass and drinks to that.

"Awright, Lu. Your turn," Bunny announces. "Vandy, go on and give her a clue." He's invisible from the door, but having just been hollering about Hymens he's easily discovered to be sprawled on the floor in front of a couch snuggling with Vandy's legs and Cidra's— legs. Not hymen. "Soybean!" he calls. "Come sit with me and watch the games," he pats Cid's foot, as if Sawyer should come sit on it.

Cidra eyes Devlin for a long, long moment, before sort of resignedly clapping his hand in another stiff high-five. "We are winning." She says it firmly. Winning is what matters. A glance up as Sawyer enters. "You are just in time," she says, perhaps meaning just in time to miss Devlin's miming.

More juice for Solstice. "Here you go," A cup is offered with a smile. "I believe the birthday man has passed around the barries," She nods. She smiles. She listens for her clue then, and waves at Sawyer. "Hello there." Her voice is friendly, she's just well-mannered. Lunair hmms softly.

Devlin grins hugely when Cidra gives in to the high-five, though he ducks his head and tries to hold it in a little. He flops back down into the couch and scratches at his cheek, still trying not to grin or laugh, both of which he clearly wants to do. He gets it under control after a second and then looks up to see what the other team does next, agreeing a little belatedly, "Totally winning. Hi Sawyer!"

Sawyer doubles over to catch herself on the ground with her fingertips, using them to aid her descent and make it as graceful as possible. The box gets settled on top of Evan's thigh, but she doesn't deign to roost on Cidra's foot as suggested. "Evening folks." She says to the greetings in an all encompassing return. "Can't stay long, dovey, but I wanted to drop off your gift and see what trouble you all are getting up to." Her voice is low to Evan, so she doesn't interrupt the game.

"Thank you." Shakes says as she grips at the glass of juice. Sipping at it, she doesn't go overly so for the berries. For now she watches the two marines interact. As Devlin plops down next to her again, Solstice eyes him rather intently. "You have a real loving wife." She intones as she sips again at her juice. As the civilian reporter enters, Solstice has heard of her. Giving a nod of her head in greeting.

Vandenberg looks like she's just completely oblivious to what's going on, taking small nibbles of the strawberry. Its not until Evan prompts her to give a clue that the Marine is coming back to reality. She's a space cadet and has been the past few days. She beckons Lunair over and shipers up into her ear. Afterwards, there's a grin. 'Best of luck with that one.'

Psyche flashes Sawyer a big, warm smile across the room, lifting a hand in a wave. Her attention turns to Lunair as her teamie is given her clue, however, and she sits up straight, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She perks her eyebrows at the violet-eyed marine, looking interested and encouraging.

Devlin turns to look at Solstice, brows rising a little at that intent look and the statement she makes. "Yeah," he says after a beat, shrugging and nodding, "Yeah, I do. Well, until I grow that moustache," he jokes, "We'll see after that."

"Ooh," Evan's already enthralled by the little box, pulling the red shoelace free and wrapping it around his wrist several times, tighter than he should, tying it closed in the palm of his hand so that when the slack gets distributed into the rest of the lace he's left with a pretty red bracelet. Or. A red shoelace tied around his wrist. And then, opening the box, he puts a hand to his heart. "Soybean…" he murmurs. "I… I don't know what to say. This… it's all so sudden," he whispers to her, warm-eyed.

Hmmm. Lunair looks a bit baffled a moment. She quirks her brows at Van. She'll… give it a try though she seems dubious. A smile back at Psyche. Okay. She'll wait until folks are a bit less busy, smiling as Evan opens Sawyer's present. Daw. Once things are ready again, she starts. First… holding up four fingers in front of her. Four words.

When Sawyer comes into the room, Pallas mutters something about having to go to the head. He stands up and keeps his back toward her, managing to slip out when she gives Evan his gift.

Sawyer eyerolls at Evan. "If I were proposing, I'd have put it on your finger, not left it in the box. That's for your sweet tooth, not your hand in matrimony." It's a cherry ring pop in the box, nothing to get terribly excited over, but it's one of those novelty items left over from their days on Leonis. Blissfully, she misses Pallas' presence and hasty exit. She quiets so that the game can continue, content to watch for a moment as she's not on a team.

McQueen's indelible smirk deepens as he truly studies Sawyer's gift, shifting in his seat so he doesn't fall over. His arms remain crossed in fronto f himself, however.

Vandenberg taps ankle on ankle on the couch as she watches Lunair take the stage. Uh huh. "Best of luck, Raine. I'm pullin' for you." Marine solidarity, yo.

Pallas has left.

Evandreus lets the corners of his mouth waver downward in a stricken look as Sawyer backpedals on her proposal. His eyes even well a little bit with tears as he sits there looking forlorn and abandoned. And then he just grins and grabs up Soybean for a big hug. What a faker he can be, sometimes. "Thanks, hon," he tells her, smooching the top of her head.

"What if," Devlin proposes across the room, opening a hand to Psyche in compromise, "What if I grow a goatee, instead? And then just shave it into a moustache for the end of the contest?"

Psyche eyes Devlin, considering the proposed compromise. "Pahhhhhhhhhh-sibly. Maybe." She nods a little. "That's at least better than a moustache alone." She turns her attention back to Lunair, though, putting her Thinky Guessy Cap on.

Cidra does not miss the hasty exit, and it draws a very quizzical look from the CAG. "Ah…" she mutters. Settling back into the couch to observe Lunair's miming with the slightest of frowns. Though not at the performance, it seems.

Sawyer is a little caught off guard by the sudden hug, but she returns it happily of course. "Happy Birthday, Bunny." When she leans back she hitches a head towards Lunair. "I'll let you get back to your game, I have a deadline to meet." Nevermind that it's self imposed. She's the boss, afterall.

"Or I could just go with a whole beard," Devlin shrugs at Psyche, "I mean, I dunno what's better. It's not for very long, anyways." He watches Lunair and waits for her to give some clues, leaning over to Vandenberg to whisper, "What did you give her?"

McQueen then turns to fully pay Lunair attention, unkempt hair and unkempt eyebrow sticking straight up.

Lunair nods. 5. Words. 1 syllable first. Her hands are expressive at least. She splays her fingers out as if indicating length then … squish down. 1. First … squished. She furrows her brows, looking baffled. Van's encouragement gets a smile.

"Flat," Psyche guesses. "Short?" She pauses. "Oh! What's the category. Did I miss the category? I'm completely obsessed with my husband's impending facial hair. It's probably not healthy."

"Nooo," Evan tries gamely to deny Sawyer a way to get away from him, wrapping her up in his arms and pulling at her to draw her onto the floor with him for a snuggle, though he doesn't cling too fiercely if she seems to be trying to extricate herself in earnest. It's one thing to want cuddles and another thing to cuddle without consent. That's just not cool, y'know.

Van leans off her lay on the couch and lifts her chin to Psyche. "Movies. I wish I could say more but I think Evan might beat me purple for aiding and abetting."

McQueen carefully leans forward, his pale blue eyes squinting at Lunair, cat-like. Waiting.

Sawyer is content to settle with Evan a moment longer, at least long enough to shout, "Little!" Though no telling which team she's supposed to be helping, or hindering, by her comment.

"You're totally overreacting," Devlin tells Psyche helpfully and probably unwisely, "I mean, it's only facial hair. And it won't be around that long. It'll be fine! Maybe you'll even like it, you never know. Movies?" He nods at Vandenberg, "Awesome, that's different." He stands up, stepping away from the couch with his empty cup, asking, "Anybody need another drink while I'm up?"

Evandreus rolls about with the Soybean, leaching overhead to put the ring box in a safe spot by Van's foot. "I'd never hit you, Vandylove. At least, not unless you really wanted me to for some reason. And even then— not very hard." He ssts, wriggling his nose into Sawyer's hair.

"Don't tease me, Buns," Van demures with a saucy wink. She caps it with a grin and turns her attention back up to see how Lunair is doing with this.

A headshake. As if writing, she motions over her hand. Pauses. Adds more writing. Lunair is really at a loss. She eyes Van with a smile. She seems amused by the challenge more than anything. Then points to herself, smiles and puts a hand over her heart.

"I could do with a coffee, thank you, Ensign," Cidra says, letting Devlin fetch for her. She is not generally one to pawn menial servant work off on her ensigns, but perhaps she feels he owes her tonight. She remains settled in to watch Lunair.

Devlin doesn't seem to take the request amiss in any case, nodding at Cidra and replying, "Sure." He heads away, and then stops and comes back after a few paces, asking Cidra quietly, "How do you like your coffee?" He glances at the charades-players, but clearly does not have any guesses. Or just doesn't want to help the other team.

Psyche wrinkles her nose at Devlin. "I am totally NOT overreacting. Moustaches are evil symbionts. Nothing good has ever come of a moustache. Furthermore, ew." She turns back to watch Lunair, her head tilting curiously. "Uhmmm. Uh. Writing. Short small little squished packed… something? Writing. You. Love. You're writing love poems to a midget."

"I'm shuttin' my mouth on this one for now." McQueen says, unhelpfully. "It was bad enough the first time."

"Do pornos count as movies?" Yeah, Sawyer's not very good at this, but maybe she needs some more to go on. Snuggle Bunny gets snuggles. Because it's his birthday.

A pained look at Sawyer. A few frantic nods at Love you and a headshake at the rest. 1. Small, her fingers pinch together. She mimes writing again, pausing and writing more. She is doing her best to communicate with her hands here.

Psyche guesses, "Little. Tiny. Microscopic. Am I even a little warm?" she laughs, looking apologetic.

"Oh, they count. I think there was a Colonial Arts subsidy act that, uh —-" McQueen looks at Sawyer blankly. "Oh well. I forgot the details. Trust me on this one." At this point, he starts to come up with his first guess. "I love you to death? Uh, wait. That's kinda morbid. Maybe I'll go paint my nails and start blasting some Aquarian whine-rock."

Evandreus has someone warm to flop on top of, and it lulls him happily off into a contented little cuddlecoma. Soon he's got his leg craped over hers and his breath is warm on the back of her neck. Then he's completely asleep, and Sawyer has herself a Bunnyblanket.

Psyche laughs. "Daww. Emo-Queenie!" She pinches McQueen's cheek. "So kyoot. I could paint your nails for you! Dye your hair, too."

Eventually, Lunair reveals the title - PS. I love you. Then she looks to her watch and squeaks. "Oh Frak! I'm on duty in 10!" She looks flustered. "Happy birthday! Enjoy the berries!" Scamper!

"Yeah. I suppose I could write a song about not having a prom date. Because she got nuked. I wonder if I have a record deal waiting for me." McQueen says, rather tastelessly, snickering in response to Psyche. Glancing over towards Lunair, he adds, "See? She was making it all wholesome, too. Now I went and ruined it. Ruined it more than I ruined Rabbit's birthday with a Rejn blow-up doll."

Devlin returns with Cidra's coffee, not demanding a high-five for this, at least. He passes it over to her, and leans against the side of the couch as he sips at his own, snickering and McQueen, "I can't believe you really gave him that. You are so frakked, dude."

"Trust me, Decoy. Trust me. One day you will realize this was the least of my sins." McQueen says sagely. "Oh well. Suppose we can't get sloshed. Maybe I'll wander off and check the status of my bird. N' that doctor from the ship that will-not-be-mentioned that bloody AWOL from the ship-that-will-not-be-mentioned was trying to throw me at. Or was it the other way around? These things are bloody confusing." He waggles a finger.

Psyche leans over to kiss Queenie's cheek. "You're a freak. I love you. Go do the strange things you do." She stands and stretches, stifling a yawn. "Coffee might not suck," she decides, going to procure some.

Devlin laughs and shakes his head at Queenie, replying, "Whatever you say, man. Hey, I mean, I thought it was funny. Frakked, but funny." He takes another sip of his coffee and then laughs again, lifting a hand in farewell to the older pilot, "Good luck, dude. Have fun."

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