| No Fun Allowed |
| Summary: | Andrea, Damon, and Malone play a game of Triad with Khloe. Does she even know what 'fun' means? |
| Date: | 31 Oct 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None. |
| Players: |
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| Recreation Room - Deck 9 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Post-Holocaust Day: #247 |
| 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. |
| Condition Level: 3 - All Clear |
Andrea is sitting at the Triad table, idly shuffling her cards with her eyes closed, as if she is getting a feel for them again. Bit by bit, step by step, she has been getting herself reacclimatized to being sociable… it appears cards are her next step.
Making his way into the rec room, Malone looks around for a few moments. Glaring at one of the empty chairs a bit away from where he moves, as he walks over to get himself a cup of coffee.
These are usually working hours for the Interim Deck Chief, but Damon is wandering about the Recreation Room looking frustrated and alone. It's no huge secret why he's spending some time off the Deck - after reaming Bannik out in front of the working crew, nobody's really anxious to hang out with him. So here he is. "Hey, you about to play a game, sir?" he asks Andrea. "Could use something to get my mind offa things."
Very much looking like she's expecting a Toaster to jump out and shoot her, Captain Vakos carefully sticks her head into the rec room and peers about. Those who have been here since the beginning can count the number of times she's actually been in this room on one hand, after having two fingers blown off. She appears to be looking for someone — and her eyes narrow and jaw sets as she espies whom she's looking for. She makes a smart line towards Hosedown.
Andrea's eyes open with a bit of a grin on her face. "I was hoping someone would ask. I would love a game, and can the rank. I'm still the new girl, after all." She glances over at Malone. "Would you care to join us, Splash? I haven't had a game of Triad in ages, so you'll probably take me to the clean…" her voice drops off a bit. It is never good when a Captain walks at you with that kind of intensity. "Uh, hi there, sir. We were talking about having a game… care to join?"
Malone pauses for a few moments as he's gotten the coffee in place, nodding a little bit at the mention of the game. "Sure," he offers, with a bit of a half-smile. Nodding a bit to the Captain, "Hello, sir," he offers, before he makes his way over towards the table.
Damon grins and nods to Andrea. "Gotcha. PO1 Andreas Damon, but most people just call me Damon - I don't much care for rank either. For those under me, I mean." Protocol demands he be courteous and yes-sir no-sir the officers of the ship, no matter what his opinion on rank might be. "It's a bit easier with the pilots, though - I can get away with callsigns most of the time." He takes a seat across from Andrea. "Captain," he says to Khloe, giving her a nod; since Malone's off-duty dress doesn't indicate rank, he sticks with the safer, "Sir." Now that greetings are out of the way, he rocks his chair back on the back two legs. "What're we playin' for? Cash, comforts, cigarettes, cookies?"
"Naturally the first place I should've looked is the one place I never go," comes Khloe's way of greeting to Andrea, her tone of voice a little sardonic. She makes eye contact with Damon and then Malone, giving both men a slight nod, and then training her gray-blue eyes back on Hosedown. "I'm going to guess that your Raptorball simulations and data have something to do with Triad, which is the sole reason why you haven't gotten me the numbers yet. Am I right?"
It's high school all over again, only Hosedown suspects all the eyelash fluttering in the world isn't going to get her an extension. She shakes her head. "No, sir. But computer time is limited, particularly for 'pet projects', as I was told. It wasn't until we got the go ahead from the Major that I could even get sim time for it, and I was put on low priority. Anyway, the computers are crunching the figures now, giving me numbers based on 10,000 sim runs." She gestures to a chair. "If you stick around and play, sir, you can go with me to see the numbers fresh for yourself when they're done cookin'."
Malone pauses as he listens, not seating himself yet, but looking between the other pilots for now, keeping quiet for a few moments.
Since Damon is sitting opposite Andrea, he has his back to Khloe. So he takes the opportunity to make a 'She's scaaaary' face at Andrea. "Come on, Captain, pull up a chair. Triad's no fun 'less you've got at least four players. You can bet up humiliating duties and have, uh…" While Andrea's waved away the whole rank thing, Damon can't remember what her name or callsign is. "…your subordinate launder your socks and make your bed every day for a week."
"I'm really not much of a card player, Hosedown," Khloe states flatly, eyeing her shuffling the deck with a hint of disapproval. "It's just a distraction. There's no F-U-N in Khloe Vakos." Huh, there really isn't; however, she leaves out her middle name, perhaps on purpose. She points a finger at Andrea, tone getting firm. "You tell those eggheads in engineering that they don't need half the computational power during Condition 3 that they say they do. The CAG wants this done. If necessary, I'll go down there with you and crack heads if that's what it takes. And no one launders my socks correctly but me, PO. I guarantee you each and every pair of socks in my locker is spotless, mended, and folded identically to every other pair. You can't buy precision like that."
Andrea is moments from sticking her tongue out at Damon, it shows all over her face. "I'll keep that in mind in the future, sir, but for now the numbers are running, so no point in antagonizing them, I thought." Storing the sock information aside for potential use later (pranks on Captains could be so much fun, afterall) she looks back at Damon and grins. "The subordinate is Lt. Andrea Demarcos. You can call me Hosedown, or if you prefer, that girl Spiral is convinced will kill us all, someday." She then sighs, and gestures for Malone to sit down. "Too bad, sir. Still, if you're scared about being shown up at the card table, it's all good. You're precise, and Triad's all about the feel of the game. S'pose it makes sense."
Malone shakes his head to himself, before he seats himself. "Been a while since I've tried this…" he mutters, mostly to himself. "Only life kills everyone, Hosedown," he offers after a few moments.
There's a sound that sounds like a cross between a snort and a stopped chuckle. "You really are cruisin', aren't you, Hosedown? All right. I'll bite." Khloe grabs another chair, drags it over, and turns it to sit on it with the back against the table. "At least you have some brass ones. Deal me in."
"I knew that," Damon mutters. Which isn't untrue - he was there when she was rescued from Aerilon, and he's probably seen her down on the Deck or even worked on her Viper before. He pulls another face: this time, it's wide, 'holy shit' eyes in Khloe's direction and mouths, well, 'Holy shit.' He chintilts at the cards that Andrea's shuffling. "Deal 'em up, Hosedown!"
Hosedown laughs and pounds the table with her fist as Khloe sits. She then gives Malone a broad grin. "Yeah, Splash, but what a way to go, eh?" She shuffles the cards, and gives a nod to the chips for someone to distribute. "So what do we want for stakes? I have some cigars from home that I could put on the table if anyone wants to match that…"
Damon narrows his eyes at his cards, thinks for a second, and throws in his chips to bet 50. "I've got some cigarettes for bettin', since I don't even smoke. It's good currency, though. Booze, too, and some general supplies from the raid down on Aerilon."
Andrea grins as she raises over Damon. It's her usual smile, kind and inviting.
Khloe is scowly and stone-faced, rearranging her cards methodically and not putting much thought to any of the betting going on.
Damon peers at his cards again. They get moved around in his hand, rearranged to his liking, before he thinks for a second and calls. He returns Andrea's grin with a broad smile and drops the three rightmost cards when it comes time to discard.
Andrea's grin suddenly vanished to nothing, and she reads and then rereads her cards several times before dropping her cards to the table. "Frak…" she mutters.
Malone folded almost as soon as he got his cards, and has been sipping some of his coffee now, watching the others a bit carefully.
Khloe lays her cards down in a scattered pile — it's clear she doesn't have anything. "Again," she grumbles. "And as far as smokes, I don't, but I can always hold on to them and bribe the CAG with them."
Damon looks pained after his bet of 50 gets raised to 100. He builds his Triad and lays it down, eyeing Khloe with apprehension. And… he takes it? "Huh," he says to himself, raking in the pot. "I… did not expect that." Small red-high triad wins! He starts stacking up his chips in preparation for the next round.
Andrea shakes her head to get over the hand, and then smiles over at Damon. "Nice one, there." Looking over at the Captain, she considers. "Any idea what you'd put on the table, sir? Maybe some precision folded socks?"
Damon snickers at Andrea's comment. And watches the others as the bet goes around the table, trying to get a feel for their style. After all, they say that you play the players in this game, not the cards.
Malone picks up his cards a bit lazily and studies them for a few moments, before he looks over at Khloe, "Really, sir? You bribe the CAG?" Leaning back in his seat, cards held in his hand, thoughtfully.
When it comes time for Damon to discard, he knocks on the table twice to indicate that he's passing. He folds his cards together and looks smug. "I've got you all on this hand," he says with a grin.
"Mmhmm," Khloe murmurs, moving her cards around. "You found your chips, is all."
Andrea's eyebrows raise as the bets go up. "Someone's about to have a lot of socks," she mutters.
Damon looks unfazed as the bet keeps climbing. What he started at 100 comes back as 300; he shrugs and tips more chips into the pot. "Four hundred," he announces. "And I ain't bluffin'."
"Bring it on," Malone offers lightly in Damon's direction.
Khloe just arches an eyebrow towards Malone.
Andrea laughs as she throws down her cards… and then groans when she sees what Malone throws down. "Did I mention I give a really good massage, too?" Frak, she wanted those cigars for herself.
Damon lays down his hand confidently. Almost full colors in red, except the one blue card. And that's what ends up biting him in the ass, because Malone wins it with green high. "Oh, come the frak on," he groans. "All those pretty chips…"
Malone smiles as he scoops up the chips, "They look even prettier now," he remarks to Damon, before he looks over at Andrea, "I'll keep that in mind," he says, before looking at his new cards.
Andrea tosses her cards aside. "Wish I'd done that before I got into the Viper-waving contest last hand."
Khloe appears she's beginning to get frustrated. "Frak me," comes under her breath, shaking her head. "I"ll be frakked if I'm folding though."
"Hey, at least you weren't the moron who kept raising the bet, thinking they had a sure win," Damon mutters to Andrea. Maybe he doesn't have as good a hand this time, or he's just been humbled enough to shut up during the betting rounds.
Looking a little focused on the cards for the moment, Malone shrugs a little bit as he looks around, making sure to call the bet before it's time to reveal the hand, a medium mixed one, green high this time.
Andrea watches as the hands go down, and shakes her head. "This keeps up, and Splash is gonna be spending CAPs in the back of a Raptor being fed grapes by female pilots in swimwear."
Khloe eyes Malone again. "You are one lucky son of a bitch, Splash. Don't use it all up at the Triad table, else some fragged Cylon is going to frak you right through your cockpit."
"Bah, I shoulda folded too," Damon says as he lays down his small red against Malone's medium green-high. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty, I guess." He sighs and rocks his chair back again. "All right, miracle recovery, right now. This hand. Let's go."
"That sounds far better than just sitting in the cockpit and daydreaming about female pilots in swimwear," Malone offers, before he offers a grin in Khloe's direction. "I'm still here, sir," he comments, before he adds, "A good reason why I only play the cards occasionally, though."
Khloe tosses the last of her chips in. "It's now or never." She looks displeased.
Damon glances down at his hand. "Well, I was gonna fold, but I guess I gotta give up my chips so the Captain can keep playing," he says with a chuckle. 100 it is.
Khloe glares pointedly across the table at Damon. "You realize I'm only here because I have to beat Hosedown at all costs, right? It's not like I even have anything valuable. All I really have is a small box of cubits in my locker that are more or less worthless now." She slowly stacks her chips back up.
Andrea glares down at her hand. Another loser… and worse, the captain had gotten some back. "Damn…" she mutters under her breath, but then she relaxes. "Good to know I was motivational at least, Poppy."
Damon shrugs with a grin when Khloe wins the hand. "Then I'll keep feedin' you chips to keep you alive," he says with a wink. "And you must have something stashed. Besides clean folded socks, I mean. One man's garbage is another man's treasure - I'd kill for a bit of solder for my own use even though most people'd probably just throw it away if they came across it."
"A worthy goal," Malone offers a bit lightly. "And everyone has something someone else would want, I guess. And they seldom know what…"
Andrea just shakes her hand after that hand. "Not even worth the first bet," she mutters.
Khloe continues to shuffle her hand around like she's done since the beginning of the game. "Can't hurt," she grumbles.
"Oh, yes it can, Captain," Damon says to Khloe with a big grin, waving his cards. "And just because I'm smiling, I'm going to lose this hand like I did the last time I thought I'd take it for sure."
Khloe narrows her eyes, not glancing up at Damon. "Aren't you the gentleman knuckledragger, PO," she quips.
Andrea chuckles as the hands go down. "You know, occassionally it is good to be reminded that turning tail was a good decision, yeah? Nice hand, Andreas."
"Hah!" Damon exults when he sees the other hands. "Revenge!" He rakes in the pot and gives Khloe a wink. "Sorry, Captain. You're an officer, and I'm just petty." Winning that hand still doesn't put him anywhere near Malone, though. "Thanks," he says to Andrea, already distracted as the next hand is dealt. Must win.
Khloe scowls at her hand. Then, closing her eyes, she just places them face down on the table, and pushes her chips in. "This is frakking pointless."
Andrea looks up at Khloe with that same smile, though her eyes are flashing a bit. "Pointless enough to keep betting, though? Ok."
"Enough of this garbage," Khloe sneers, pushing up from the table. She takes her time, though, putting her chair back where she found it. Perhaps to see if Hosedown goes out as well. And she does, which causes her to give a small nod. "We went down together, Hosedown. Any good Viper pilot will make a clean kill. If they have to, they'll go down in a ball of flame taking down their target."
"This counting as enough of a clean kill, sir?" Malone asks with a bit of a grin as he lays down his cards.
"Assuming, of course, that the wing can accept trading a Viper for an enemy. In this case, seems a good trade." She grins as she stands and offers her hand, then looks to the two gentlemen. "Lemme know what you prefer, I got the Cigars and can maybe even cover the Captain if she doesn't have anything to put up." She gives a sly smile. "Of course, that all depends on who wins…"
No comments or muttering from Damon this time as his hand gets medium red-high gets swept away by Malone's large red-high. Just a slight frown as chips trade hands again. "And you leave the knuckledragger behind to clean up the mess," he chuckles. It's just him and Malone left now, and judging by the stacks in front of the two players, it's a David and Goliath situation here.
Damon looks at his hand and doesn't even try to conceal his disgust. He shakes his head at Malone and throws in the cards. "Ain't happenin'," he snorts.
Khloe takes Andrea's hand and gives it a firm shake. "You're welcome to check my locker, Hosedown. I'm not holding out. All I am is blue and brass."
"No guts, no glory, my friend," Malone comments as Damon folds. "You want to win, you need to take risks. That's the way it is in most things." A nod to the other pilots as he listens to what they're saying. Then looking back to his cards, and making his next bet.
Andrea nods to the Captain, then takes a seat again to see how things play out. "I'll take you at your word, sir. Stick around to see the end, and then we'll go fetch those numbers? They should be coming out in a few minutes or so."
"I've already wasted a half hour, what's a few more minutes," Poppy grumbles, folding her arms across her chest and leaning up against a support beam.
"Aw, come on, Captain," Damon says, his eyes fixed on Malone. "You can always buy back in, since you seem to be so crushed to not be playing."
Malone chuckles a bit at Damon's words, nodding a little bit, before he places his cards on the table again, glancing over at Damon's cards.
Strangely, Khloe seems to be briefly considering Damon's temptation. "I'd… better not," she finally decides. "Gods know what my therapist would say if he knew I was gambling. But, chances are, he's crispier than those burnt cinderblocks they pass as biscuits in the mess hall, so he's probably not saying much." She smirks lightly at Malone winning yet again, and shakes her head.
"I got nothin'," Damon mutters as he throws in his cards. "Therapist, hey? I dunno how much stock I put into them types. I've seen a couple on the ships I've been on, but I can't say it's been very helpful."
Andrea considers… she really does, but then she shakes her head. "No, I got a project I'm working on, and the Cap has been good enough to let me slack off this long." Apparently even Hosedown has a limit to how far she will push her luck. "But there will be other games, of that I assure you. Though I may just spend the whole time making side bets on Malone."
Malone shakes his head a little bit, "Therapist? Probably doesn't have anything good to say, anyway." Shaking his head at the cards, he folds this time.
"Two hundred whole chips! That only leaves you with, like, five thousand," Damon says with a grin to Malone. "I'm gonna chip away at you, two hundred at a time. See what I did there? Chip away?" He exaggerates laughing at the hilarity of that terrible pun, kneeslap included, and pushes the cards Malone's way. His deal.
Khloe nods slightly. "Yes, therapist, PO. When someone is mentally or emotionally damaged, typically they need to get their head shrunk in order to get back on track with their life. For me, it was part of my government-assigned work program on Canceron, when I got clean. Since I hold very little interest in gambling, it's been one of those addictions I've managed to avoid growing any sort of attachment to. And, PO, don't give up your day job; humor's not your strong suit."
"I dunno, I think I've got a good stand-up routine planned out," Damon says, pondering his cards. "Put in my resignation, take my severance pay, and just take my show to the worlds." Not much audience left, though. "Got clean? That mean you don't drink or nothing anymore, Captain?" he asks, glancing over to her. She's gotta loosen up somehow. Right?
Damon looks over his hand. Medium red-high? Why the hell not. He pushes all in, hoping for a stroke of dumb luck. After all, he is supposed to be working right now, so the faster the game ends one way or another, the better.
Eyeing his cards a bit carefully, Malone follows with the bets, shaking his head a little bit. Time for the final showdown, it seems…
Andrea leans in, eagerly anticipating the outcome. The new pilot is easily entertained, or so it seems.
"I don't drink, don't smoke, and I severely limit my medications except in situations dictated by Colonial Fleet emergencies," says Khloe, still with arms crossed. "Ever have a heart attack, PO? The reason why it hurts so much is because it's a muscle designed never to stop except when it's time to die. I've died twice."
Malone lets out a bit of a relieved breath as he sees the card, shaking the offered hand, "You too, PO. Good game. And good luck with the work." Looking to his forgotten cup of coffee, he drains the rest of the cold liquid, before he starts getting to his feet again now.
Khloe gives a small grunt, and she pushes off of the support. "Right. Let's go get those numbers, Lieutenant," obviously meaning Andrea. "Hopefully that'll be my last card game, ever. And Splash, since you won, I owe you. Just don't get too imaginative — I'm still your SL."
But you do enjoy, on occasion." Andrea says with a grin, as she stands. "There was something in your eye when you took that one hand, I think. Ok, lets go." She offers Malone a handshake. "You ever need someone to cover a CAP for you, lemme know. Or you might want the cigars."
"Wouldn't dream of it, sir," Malone replies to Khloe's words, before he shakes Andrea's hand as well. "I'll have to think about that one for a little while," he offers.
"Just think fast. I may find myself having some cigars in the meantime." Giving a wave, she follows Khloe on out.