BCH #009: Holding Court
Holding Court
Summary: Two pilots happen upon each other while looking to get some Pyramid practice in.
Date: 2/17/41
Related Logs: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank)
Alessandra Aeolus 

Pyramid Court -

In the center of the room is a regulation size Pyramid Court. The large uprights come from the same commercial manufacturer that makes them for the professional league. However, rather than holding team insignia, the Cerberus' Group identification has been painted into the center of each one. Around the outer edge of the room are a set of risers and benches so that hotly contested games can be watched by up to one hundred crewmembers.

It's quiet here, the Pyramid court relatively empty save for one person currently, Alessandra the sole being to be found. Off duty, she's dressed to relax, the pilot wearing an old jersey that bears the emblems for the Picon pro team and sweatpants instead of the regulation off-duty uniform many wear commonly. A ball is held in her hand which is then launched towards one of the goals, it sent wide, missing the target entirely which gets her to cuss loudly. "Frakkers."

The door to the Court opens and closes, letting Aeolus into the room. Noticing that there's someone else here, he calmly waits by the door, to see if Alessandra has noticed his entrance. Like the other pilot, he's dressed to relax; off-duty clothes have been shed for a pair of shorts and a tank-top. A simple, yellow tank-top. Black shorts. He holds a Pyramid ball in one hand, and holds a towel against his shoulder with the other. For now, he stays silent and impassive. Waiting.

Alessandra catches movement out of the corner of her eye and she turns slowly, blushing as she sees she's not alone. "Uh…" The pilot falters and falls silent for a moment, embarrassment stripping her of the ability to speak for a good minute, at least. When she does remember how to talk it is done in a wavering voice, the tremble adding to the sheepish manner she now holds herself. "Hi. If you want to practice I can let you have the court." Looking as if she means to make good on that, Allie starts to gather her stuff with the ball being the last of her belongings to be hunted down.

Aeolus smiles briefly, and for a second. He shakes his head, and murmurs, "You don't need to go, if you don't want. I'm intruding." He does look like he could be good at Pyramid, though. Quite good. Being tall and athletic usually indicates some amount of ability in Pyramid. He gestures with his hand. "I could just take that position. Wouldn't bother you at all." Possibly not. Nonetheless, he watches Alessandra get her things from where he is, and makes no further comment on the issue.

The egress is paused, Alessandra half-bent over to grab the small sphere that had gotten away from her, her head craning to the side as she regards the taller man. "Alright. Since you insist." Her towel is dropped and then so is the bottle of water she had brought with her, those abandoned while her ball is taken back in hand. "I don't believe we met. I'm Alessandra Sophronia. One of the Viper pilots."

"A.J. Mavros. I fly Raptors." He doesn't seem like a man of many words. He puts his towel either a railing or a bench, whatever's closer, and then walks slowly towards a different triangle-court. "I've been settling in," he explains. That's all Aeolus offers. He then takes a shot at the target, and nearly gets it in. Maybe if he didn't shoot so casually. After, he jogs to retrieve the ball. He seems a bit cold and distant, and so much is clear in his choice of words, and short answers.

"A.J…nice to meet you," Alessandra says, a smile finally finding its way to her face. "So where you're from?" Usually cool herself, she can't help but to fall into an atypical bout of chattiness, it being a noticeable contrast to his own demeanor. When his shot is missed she tilts her head, brow creasing as she regards him and his form. "You release the ball a bit early. Try waiting until your arm is fully extended before letting it go."

Once he's retrieved the ball, Aeolus turns about and takes another shot. This time, it goes in. Mechanically, he jogs over to retrieve it, as if he's done it hundreds of times before. Once he has his ball again, he turns his attention back to Alessandra. It takes a bit of time. "Aquaria. I went to the school at Picon, though. Played on the college team." If Alessandra is familiar with the team recently — maybe three or four years ago — she may remember him. He's not giving out details, though. "You?" he asks before turning and releasing another shot.

Being a bit older, Alessandra is unfamiliar with any team outside of the professional ones so nothing really clicks outside of the names of the colonies A.J. gives. "Picon, huh? No frak? I'm from Picon myself. Born and raised. Where on Picon did you go to school?" Her throwing arm is raised and she takes a turn at throwing, it still missing although not as bad as the first; being more interested in conversation than practice, now, she simply stands there, letting the ball roll off to wherever it will.

Step, step. Leap. Aeolus throws himself up and forward, and hurls a shot at the opening, which just misses by a hair. His landing is even nimble, for a pilot. A Raptor pilot, at that. He draws in a breath, as his ball rolls away to a corner of the room. "The Flight School," he answers quietly. He looks at Alessandra for a second or two. "I liked Picon. It's different than Aquaria." And then he pauses for a second or two again. After, he turns to go and retrieve his ball, jogging away. Not exactly the talkative type, it seems. Probably doesn't get away from his duties, studies, or ship. No wonder he hasn't been seen until now!

Alessandra raises a brow and then chuckles softly, shaking her head as she watches him. "Never been off of Picon until I got my first carrier assignment several years ago. That was the Acacia. Nice ship but old as frak. But so was the Delphus. Guess I was destined to start my career on ships that were just shy of being mothballed." Not that either ship has been, yet, but with how old they both are, they'll probably be slated for such soon.

He comes back with his ball. He looks down at his shoes for a second. "We all have to start somewhere. I started flying Raptors off of the Bellerophon." Pause. Long pause. "I'm looking forward to this opportunity, though. Flying here." Aeolus grips his ball with both hands, and squeezes it tightly. He opens his mouth for a second, as if he wanted to say more; alas, he stops himself, and turns to make another shot. He fails. He's not really concentrating, or putting effort into the practice.

"Ah. So you're used to big ships, then. This must be old hat for you, then." Quirking a grin, Alessandra sits on the floor and tucks her knees up to her chest, keeping aware just in case she has to deflect a throw or something. "I'm still kind of getting lost here," she confesses once comfortable, "And I kind of feel out of my element. Thankfully everyone's so nice. Makes getting used to this ship a lot easier."

Aeolus still doesn't seem comfortable. He still seems cold and distant, and holding himself back. "We just have each other. Can't afford not to be. The time will come that we'll work together." All standard language, right out of the textbook. He says it almost as if he believes it to be true. "What — ?" He stops, and then starts again. "What is it that — that makes you feel out of your element? Being in a big ship?"

Alessandra nods slowly. "Yeah. Escort carriers are not as big. Not as many decks and all that. Compared to this, they're…" Stammering, she finds herself unable to think of how to put her thoughts into words without coming across as redundant, it enough to make her just shrug. Either Aeolus will know what she's getting at or he'll be left clueless.

Aeolus gazes at Alessandra, and then looks down at his ball. He frowns a little, but his face clears again, so that he can look neutral. "I think I understand." He stops again, looking at Alessandra. He looks helpless and hopeless, like he wants to continue to talk but not being able to. He presses his lips together tightly for a second. "It sounds as if you're getting comfortable. You've — you've met some people that have — " Break. " — that have helped you get comfortable?"

"Yeah, I have. And I'm going to be working on setting up a Pyramid tourney to help us all get comfortable with each other. If you'd like, I can let you know when things have been established and such. You'll be more than welcome, of course." This is something she's in her element with, the subject of Pyramid, and Allie finds herself able to talk more readily, easily taking up the slack when Aeolus breaks off. "Still not sure how to do the logistics but it's going to happen. I promise."

"Okay. I'll be there." Although he's truculent, at least Aeolus sounds sincere. He nods his head. "I look forward to it." He looks down at his ball. His lips curl into a rueful smile. "I should probably practice, then, right?"

Alessandra laughs. "I think we're all going to need to practice…" Groaning, she gets up onto her feet and once again gets her stuff, this time heading to the hatch as she makes with her goodbye-for-now. "And speaking of that, I got to get some practice in as far as simtime goes. I'll see you around, though."

Aeolus nods his head, and remains on the court. "I'll see you around," he echoes. And that's all he says. Ruefully, he turns back to the court, and makes another half-assed shot. It bounces away from its goal. Then, he jogs after it. Always jogging. Mechanically.

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