| Pyramid and Bounce |
| Summary: | Some time spent in the rec room allows for discussion of Pyramid and introductions to be had. |
| Date: | 2-13-41 |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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Rec 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.
There's a crowd around one of the viewscreens this afternoon, the group consisting of mainly young men, everyone there enjoying a Pyramid game that's been recorded and sent to one of the crewmembers via mail. Of course Allie's sitting there watching it as well although she remains out of the major knot of viewers, her choice in seating being a couch which she is stretched out upon. She's wearing her old jersey and a pair of sweats, looking rather comfortable.
Whether it's out of desire for something to do or the simple fact that he has nothing better to do, Laskaris isn't sure, but he finds himself in the rec room nonetheless. Pausing at the entryway, his eyes are drawn to the screen with the Pyramid game. Curious, he takes a few steps in, winding up standing not far from the couch Alessandra is laying on. He looks down to the young woman, and back to the screen. "So. Who's winning?" he asks abruptly.
Alessandra looks over towards where the voice came from, sitting up slightly so she can peer over the arm of the couch. "Oh, hey Las. Virgon's winning, it seems. Nice to see Caprica get stomped on for once." A hand is waved as she says that, inviting him to sit with her. "Tell me you like the sport please? Or something close to it." Her eyes dart towards the screen just as the gang shouts out, some cheering while others boo when one of the Buccaneers scores. "Aw frak."
"For once?" Lasher asks with a smirk. "C-Bucs've been cellar dwellars three years running." He looks back to the screen. "Though, they actually seem t' have a decent team shaping up this year," he allows. "Maybe they finally got sick of losing." He lights a cigarette with a practiced motion. There's a nod in response to Allie's question. "Aerilon fan." With that accent, he couldn't be anything else. Laskaris winces as the C-Bucs player - a tall, darkhaired man with ANDERS stenciled on the back of his jersey - scores. "As shitty as that teams been, that guy's something else," he opines. "Archers tried t' make a trade for him a couple seasons back, but the bloody frakkin' Bucs wanted half our farm system in return. Nobody's worth that much."
There is a blink and then she grins, Allie looking a bit sheepish. "Have they? I really can't say I pay them much mind. I'm a Picon fan through and through, myself." Shifting on the couch, she makes herself comfortable while glaring at the screen, it being at the sight of Anders who she kind of views as being an arch-enemy of hers. "Was talking about the sport with Maia the other day. All she seemed to care to mention was how she finds Anders to be good looking. Gods, I about wanted to throw something at her for that." Such is the fate of a life-long tomboy.
Laskaris nods. "Highest bloody payroll in the league, and they can't even string together a decent team half the time." He chuckles, shaking his head. "I save my hate for Leonis, personally. Frak, I'm still chuffed by that semi-finals game a couple years ago. Still think the frakkin' Lions got no end of luck." The comment about Maia gets a snort. "Casual fans. No appreciation for the finer points of the game, eh?" He grins.
"To be honest, they should just give up on putting a team together, period. Caprica's owners are frakking dumb as shit." Shrugging, she cocks a half-grin, utterly unapologetic despite the fact that a few of the Bucs' fans sneer at her. "As for Maia? She can't even be considered a casual fan, Las. Frak me. Pitting a man's looks over his talent? She probably just watches the sport so she can have something to diddle over when she's alone in her bunk at night." One of the guys tosses a ball at her which she almost catches only to have the thing bounce off of her palm and go off in another direction. "Grr. I am out of practice. What I wouldn't give for a game."
Laskaris laughs, a gravelly, throaty sound. "Point taken. Yeah, that type always annoyed me t' no end, too." He shrugs, his smirk widening. "My sister had a friend who was the same way. Always used t' tell her, if that's what you're watching for… well, they make skin mags for the ladies these days, too." He pauses, watching the action on the screen for a second as he inhales a lungful of smoke. "Ship's got a pyramid court, ya know. Probably a few others aboard what wouldn't mind having a go, either."
Alessandra shakes her head, frowning. "I guess we all have things that get us hot," she eventually mutters, "But gods. Ugh." Reaching up, she rubs her palm against her forehead, trying to get the sting out of it. "Frakker throws hard." With the discussion moving on, Alessandra can't help but to smile, her eyes going a bit wide at the thought of maybe…-just maybe-…being able to play again. "Yeah, I had that mentioned to me. Want to get some people together. Maybe have a tourney or something. Say. Do you play?" There's a twinge in her voice, there, a hopeful undertone to the query.
Alas, Lasher's reply probably isn't what she's hoping for. The Viper pilot shakes his head. "Aside from the occasional pickup game in college, not really," he says. "Don't even think I've stepped on a court in years." The ball Allie tried to catch is still rolling on the ground not far from where Lasher is standing. He picks it up, hefting it experimentally in his hand. "My arm's good, but other than that I'm pretty terrible. Oi, numbnuts, heads up!" That last is directed at the one who'd thrown it in the first place; as soon as the man looks over, Laskaris throws the ball at him. There's a hard smack of ball against flesh as the guy catches it with a wince. Apparently, Lasher wasn't lying about the arm.
"I doubt any of us are professionals," Lucky murmurs while trying not to gawk, the throw enough to impress her and obviously so. "Look, how about this. You and I can nab some time on the court once in a while, get some practice in and if you feel comfortable enough afterwards, you can be on my team." The guys who accompany the one who just caught the throw whistle lowly and they turn to look at Las, it provoking a rather abrupt and very curt response from the lounger. "Hey, you all can frak off. If anyone's getting Lasher on their team it's me. I call -DIBS-!"
"'S not a 'comfort' issue," Laskaris replies dryly. "More of an 'I can throw hard but not much else' issue." He shrugs. "Got no problem with looking the fool on the court, though. Sure, we can practice sometime." A wry smile. "Not like there's much else for a pilot t' do, as long as we're still in bloody drydock." A look back over to the gaggle of Pyramid watchers, and Lasher grins, spreading his arms in a helpless shrug. "Sorry, lads. Sounds as though I'm already spoken for."
Evandreus arrives from the Deck 9.
Evandreus has arrived.
The collective groan from the guys gets Alessandra to laugh and then she fist pumps, a little display that pretty much screams 'neener'. "I played some when I was a girl. Nothing major but I can offer pointers or something if you'd like." With Allie laid out on the couch and Laskaris standing not too far from where she lounges, the two are chatting while others watch a recorded game of Pyramid on one of the TVs. "It really isn't all that difficult, truth be told. Big part of the game is learning how to deflect an in-coming opponent while staying on your feet." Getting up onto her feet, she widens her stance after getting fully upright and then she charges, trying to make her point by example.
Laskaris smiles at the offer, though there's a hint of mild indignation in his voice as he replies. A proud one, is Lasher. "I'm not a total rook, Allie. My form could use a little work — well, more than a little, maybe, but I'm not completely helpless." An eyebrow rises as she gets up and charges him, but he sets himself, bending slightly at the knees. He seems willing enough to play along.
Evandreus strolls on in with a notebook hooked under his left arm, right hand raised to sniff curiously at the back of it, up near his knuckles, fingers bent into a loose fist, giving the smell a kind of skeptical look before he swaps his notebook over under his right arm, planting his left on the back of a sofa and vaulting on over, sliding down onto the cushions on the other side of the back. And then, oh, hey, look, people tackling one another, and he lifts his arms overhead, falling over toward the arm of the couch: "Gah!" is his only comment.
Allie would compliment Las on his form but she's a bit busy now, that being with the whole impact-of-moving-object-upon-non-moving-one thing. Fortunately for him, she's out of practice and, instead of knocking him off of his feet, she goes flying backwards, the impact of her butt against the deck coinciding with the stumble from Evandreus. "Oooooph," she manages to get out as the air's forced from her lungs, and she just winds up sitting there, looking at them both, her face bright red now.
A laugh is suppressed, somehow, as Allie's charge backfires. Lasher isn't exactly a big man, but he's solidly built, and his planted feet keep him standing as the other pilot's charge makes contact. Laskaris bends down, extending the surprised woman a hand. "You all right, there?" he asks with a smirk. It's not completely unsympathetic, though. "Maybe we could both use a little practice, wot?" Evandreus gets a curious look, but his eyes are back on Allie a moment later.
Evandreus peeks out from over the edge of his notebook as Ellie simply bounces off of Lasher, the corner of his lip tremoring upward once, twice, then again, letting out a little snicker. Crisis seeming resolved, he pushes back upright with his elbow and then flops over onto his stomach, legs kicked up behind him as he settles out his notebook. "Dear Diary," he begins, "Though not a man much given to strange sights— today, have seen a man composed entirely of rubber," he finishes up a sort of commentary, grinning brightly and reaching down with the arm that's not half-propping up his torso on an elbow to open a pocket and grab for a fistful of magic markers.
Alessandra laughs and blushes harder. "Ah, yeah. I'm fine. Thanks." The hand up is accepted and used to get herself upright but is then slow to be released even when she is standing and steady. "Looks like we both do, yeah. Will be good to get back on the court to be able to do so. Just take it easy on me. I break easily." When Evan narrates she can't help but to turn and look at him fully, Alessandra releasing Anton's hand so she can shift positions. "It's a rather thrilling experience. You should try it." A hand is waved, gesturing towards her fellow pilots.
If Alessandra held onto his hand a little longer than perhaps was needed, Lasher doesn't seem to notice. He grunts, that thin smile still on his face. "Feh. You'll probably be running bloody circles around me." At the 'man of rubber' bit, Lasher lets out another one of those raspy laughs. "Rubber? Call me vain, but I always preferred the 'stone wall' metaphor myself. You know, immovable object, irresistible force, all that." He looks over at the unfamiliar man, just as Evan starts taking out his… markers? "Are you… coloring?" he asks, brows twisted quizzically.
"Nope," Evan answers Lasher with a mischievous little grin that anticipates an upward twitch of an eyebrow, "I'm going to be in a couple of seconds, though," he adds, completing the paraprosdokian and seeming entirely too amused by the twist. "One doesn't bounce so nicely off of a stone wall, I don't think. You sort of splat up against it and slump down to the ground, leaving a bloody streak behind you. I think I'll take a rain check on my turn bouncing, though," he defers to Alessandra with a grin, opening up a green marker and starting to draw a series of broad green curvy lines that thin out as they arc around.
There's a tug at the hem of the jersey she's wearing, Lucky still blushing a bit as she does. "He does have a point," Alessandra mutters towards Lasher, her tone hinting to the laughter she's suppressing. "You do have a nice bounce. Not quite as much as one of the strippers who pole dance at the clubs in Caprica City but still got a nice bit of it." Her hand slips behind her back and her palm's rubbed across her aching backside, doing so making her wince a bit. "Oww…oh, hey. Heard that there's going to be some kind of dedication rite or something later today. You guys going to go to that?"
Lasher raises an eyebrow as Allie mentions strippers. "I'd say I wouldn't know about all that, but I'd be lying," he replies mildly. "Have t' say it surprises me that you do, too." An amused snort, and Lasher looks back at Evan. "Well… uh, yeah. I'd hate t' have to explain to the major why I turned one of her pilots into a bloody smear on the deck." Then, to Allie: "I'd heard about it myself. Probably going to drop in, yeah." He gestures widely with his arms. "Not as though there's much else going on, eh?"
Evandreus wrinkles his nose a little bit, upper lip rising just briefly as he caps green and opens up a black marker, tracing with a fine tip along the inner edged of the green lines. "I think I'll stick to my markers, thanks," he offers the pair of them, then, brightening with a genial smile, "I'm Evan, by the by. Evan Doe. Raptor driver," he notes.
"I went a few times…well, not the ones in Caprica City. All of my time planetside while in the military was spent on Picon but it wouldn't have as nice of a ring to it. Anyhow, went a few times with some of the guys when I was enlisted. Bonding, of sorts." Telling more about herself than she's used to, Allie falls quiet and takes a sudden interest in her feet as well as the deck just in front of her toes. "I'll go with you," she eventually utters towards Anton. With there being introductions made, her embarrassment is finally able to ebb and she looks up again, her face no longer pink. "Alessandra Sophronia. Nice to meet you."
"Anton Laskaris. Viper stick," Lasher introduces himself with a sardonic smile, echoing the Raptorbunny's introduction. He shakes his head slightly in wonderment as the darkhaired man begins to color. He's seen pilots do a lot of crazy things, but nothing quite so… benignly odd. He looks back to Allie, who's suddenly stewing in her own embarrassment. He shrugs. "Just don't see many ladies in those sorts of places, is all. Well, I knew a certain subset of girls in college that liked to go, but I'd hardly call them ladies." He snickers. There's an expression of slight surprise at her mention of being enlisted, but he doesn't ask any further.
Evandreus smiles toward Allie, his grin growing just a little more subdued into a warm, easy expression as he looks up from his work, "Hey, it's cool," he tells her, "The human body is a beautiful thing, y'know? No shame in looking at it, especially when people go to all the trouble of putting on a show," he points out, staggering thin little thorntips on the narrow ends of the green curves in black, then closing up the black marker and opening up an orange one, then closing that and opening up a darker orangeish-red. "Good to know the both of you," he adds, after introductions are done.
Alessandra oys softly while looking up at Anton, wrinkling her nose cutely. "Well, I assure you that I am all about the men. I only went to the strip clubs because there was nothing else do to beside hang out on base and when you get out-voted ten to one…" Yeah. It was more often than not that Alessandra was the sole female in the group. "And he's right. Human bodies are beautiful and it was fun to watch the guys' go all green with envy when I'd get the lap dances they so desperately wanted to be receiving and getting free drinks on top of it." Wriggling her bottom, she teasingly adds, "Plus I picked up a few dance moves." Wink, wink. "So Evan, what are you drawing?"
Lasher shrugs. "It's the way of the military." He yawns, looking over at the screen. The game is winding down, and the crowd is starting to disperse. "Well. I'd better go grab a shower, if I'm going t' look halfway bloody presentable at this thing. See you later, Allie. Uh, Evan." He fumbles for the man's name for a second, but then comes up with it. With that, he's ambling out of the room.
FTB