PHD #060: Rec Room Hijinks
Rec Room Hijinks
Summary: Late nights make for lively conversations.
Date: 2041.04.27
Related Logs: None.
Aurola Covington Kulko Lunair Rojas Tisiphone 
Recreation Room — Deck 9 — Battlestar Cerberus
Post-Holocaust Day: #60
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 Leve: 3 — All Clear

Hurrah for the mangled and dying being back in the Sickbay where they (temporarily) belong. The Rec Room barely smells like antiseptic at all, any more. Tisiphone's staked out one of the pool tables, and is playing a game of nine-ball against herself. A half-smoked cigarette dangles from one corner of her mouth, and her lumpenmug is perched on the corner of the table, though no steam rises from it.

Kulko meanders into the rec room, having apparently taken quick notice of its reopening. He starts at first towards the coffee - old habits, et cetera - but pauses and diverts course on spying Tisiphone, making directly for the pool table. "Howdy," he offers simply by way of greeting with a grin. "Hope I ain't interruptin?"

Aurola arrives from the Deck 9.
Aurola has arrived.

Phew. thanks to diligent support staff at least. Lunair is here and she hums softly. She has a small loom and her weaving supplies with her. She stops, seeing Kulko and Tisiphone. She smiles, seeing the pair. "Hey." Wait. Wait. Kulko. Lunair blinks at him. Peers.

Tisiphone's eyes flick up briefly as the hatch lets Kulko in, then return to the pool-table, more amused than they were a moment before. She lines up her shot as he walks over. CLACK. The shot's a little off, and bounces away from the pocket instead of going in. "Been hard to find you, last couple days," she says as she straightens up, arms folding lightly across her chest. "XO's got you hopping again?" Her attention moves past him for a moment, as she spots Lunair, who's greeted with a mute but friendly-enough nod.

"Yeah, well," Kulko equivocates, leaning backwards against the table with a shrug. "Rules and regs won't learn themselves. Apparently there's some field testing in store for me, wargames and such. Gotta make sure I don't look like a complete washout." He follows her gaze to Lunair, offering up a brief scout's salute and an amiable, "Raine."

Aurola is the next to the come through the hatch, the scientist moving in her rather distinctive four step walk; pausing at the end of the fourth step she takes. Looking around the room, she nods to those in it, not really recognizing any of them. Well, other than Lunair from the blood drive. "Hi," she says simply as she walks towards the pool table, time for physics fun!

"Hey! You got promoted!" Beam. Raine is genuinely happy for the Kulko. She smiles at him. And a look to Tis. She nods in agreement. Kulkos are elusive these days. "Allo." She hugs her bag close. Then back to Kulko, returning his salute. "That's really great." Happy Melty Lunairs. Yay! She beams at Kulko. "Wow. I'll have to sneak out some of my rum for you or somehing," Nodnod. A pause and she smiles to Aurola. "Hello there."

"Somewhere quieter than the library to study, eh?" Tisiphone glances away as she drags on her cigarette, exhaling a line of smoke toward the ceiling. Her eyes find Aurola on their return path, tracking the woman's progress through the room for a second before they find Lunair. "What a bastard, eh?" she says to her. "Get him drunk right under the Colonel's nose and he repays me by getting promoted before I do." So. Unfair. She grins floor-ward as she starts rummaging for her pack of smokes.

Kulko folds his own arms at that. "G'won. Talk about me like I ain't here," he grins. Lunair gets a slow nod. "Thanks much. Weren't all too sure I deserved it.. but times bein' what they are, don't think I'll much have the luxury of learnin' by watchin'." Aurola, then, gets a long, studious glance. "Howdy."

Aurola smiles faintly at Kulko and Lunair as they both say hello, and she looks at the pool table, before adding, "How're you all tonight?" Awakward social situations are awkward for the newcomer. Her eyes looking around the room once, noting what is there, before she looks at the three, not wanting to seem rude.

Lunair tries not to giggle at that. "I hear that Kulko fellow is pretty incredible?" A wink and a smile. "That's nonsense and you know it. You deserved it. You work your backside off for CIC," She bobs her head. "Besides, if anyone's a wash, it's apparently me," Lunair looks pained by this realization. She shakes her head, "But that's not a subject I want to bring up. Not while I'm being happy for my friend." She grins at Tisiphone. "Oh dear," She rubs the back of her head. A look to Aurola. "Pretty well. I was going to do a bit of weaving."

"Don't mind if I do," retorts Tisiphone to Kulko, as she taps out a fresh cigarette. She lights it off the end of her own half-smoked ciggie with a thick puff of smoke, then offers it up to the Junior LT. While holding it there she looks back to Lunair and says, with a grin creeping unchecked across her face, "Yeah? You heard that too, eh? Guess the word is spreading." Aurola's question is greeted with a moment's puzzlement and a simple, "Not bad. Looking up."

Kulko accepts the proffered cigarette with a grateful incline of his head. "Well enough," he answers the newcomer, ignoring the commentary. "Stephen Kulko, CIC. You are?"

Aurola smiles at Tisiphone and Lunair, nodding her head to their assents to being well, before her eyes go to Kulko and she replies, "Doctor Aurola Essenarous, Civilian." She smiles at him lightly, before adding, "A pleasure to meet you."

Lunair smiles at Tisiphone. "Oh yeah, like wildfire." Nod. She grins at poor Kulko. She owes him rum or candy. "There's candy if you're off rum, though I gave away most of mine the other day." A shrug, "But it made people glad and so I'm glad too." She seems genuinely happy for that. She glances to Aurola. "Oh, what kind of doctor?" She seems to be in a pretty good mood now.

"Pff," says Tisiphone, or maybe she just exhales another lungful of smoke. She stalks halfway around the pool-table to pick up her lopsided clay mug, lifting it for a quick drink before it's slid back onto the edge of the table. Leaning forward, she starts lining up her next shot, eyes flicking up to the conversation every few moments.

Aurola looks over at Lunair, eyes occasionally flickering back to look at the pool table as Tisiphone lines up her shot before she answers, "Got my PhD in astrophysics." She smiles faintly as she says that, waiting to see what the reaction may be.

Kulko draws in a deep drag and peers over at Tisiphone's mug. "Got room for one more, or are ya too busy playin with yourself?"

Covington arrives from the Deck 9.
Covington has arrived.

Lunair just keeps a smile at Tis, "I'll sew nearby then. I'm abysmal at pool. Someone would lose an eye." Uh oh. She listens then, for her part for a moment. She is near the pool table, Kulko, Tisiphone and Aurola. "But I promise I won't forget," That to Kulko. She looks to Aurola. "Oh? That's pretty neat." Smile. "More impressive than my four year degree." Nod. She sets her little loom somewhere safe nearby so she can listen and watch.

"Came in with QUODEL?" Tisiphone asks this — presumably of Aurola — without looking up from her shot. CLACK. The shot's true this time, tapped lightly into the side pocket. She stalks back around the table, collecting her lumpenmug on the way to offer it at Kulko along with lifted brows. "Figured you were busy talking," she says to him, amused again. "I'll rack up for eight-ball."

The hatch gaps a bit as it's almost pulled open — well, to be more specific, it's pulled open, it's just not pulled open real wide. A hand tips in, fingernails trimmed neatly short, polished clear. The hand is empty, but a voice may be heard outside, drawlin' like nobody's business, "It ain't like I got hard feelin's. He couldn't find his ass with a flashlight in each hand. Least it still flies." There's a brief pause before the hatch swings open further, "Yeah, sure. Save me some, hear?" And with that, Covington steps into the Rec Room, a ceramic mug in hand. It's stolen, but probably no one knows that unless they've seen Rojas drinking out of a PETRELS DO IT INVERTED mug, which this just happens to be. Then again, it could be borrowed. But it ain't — it's totally stolen.

"No, was on the ship before they fell, over seeing a couple of installments on the ship from my company," Aurola explains as she watches ball go in, before she turns her attention over to the recently walked in Covington, giving her a small wave of greeting before turning her attention back to the pool game, "What about a game of Cuthroat?"

Kulko steps back from the table at Aurola's challenge. "Nah, you take it. I ain't much of a pool shark at any rate." He picks up Tisiphone's mug and gives it an inquisitive sniff, then a similarly tentative sip at the contents.

Lunair listens, and smiles. She looks to Kulko, tilting her head. "I think I'll weave a bit and watch," She nods. She seems content to settle into the background. There's a polite smile and a wave to Covington. Moar air wing! DUN DUN DUN.

<Fade Kulko for RL attack.>

Tisiphone's polite interest in Aurola shifts to something considerably cooler at her question, those lifted brows shooting up a little further as sleety eyes are turned from Kulko to the civilian. "Plenty of spare tables," she says, gesturing toward the other, empty, pool-tables. "Knock yourself out. This one's full."

Aurola blinks at the sudden shift in demeanor and she takes a step back away from the table. "Um… sorry, I didn't mean to offend or anything," she frowns, looking towards the door and debating making a run for it.

"Hey, y'all," comes the allo allo to the room as Covington glances around, doing a visual sweep of the inhabitants and the Rec itself. "Somebody tell me there's coffee heated up." The words seem largely unnecessary, because the pilot is headed over there her darn self to check it out. Lieutenant on a mission.

"I'm not offended. I'm just not interested in playing with you." Tisiphone offers a quick, humourless smile at Aurola before she paces around to the other side of the table, snagging the cue-ball as she goes. A mild, exasperated sigh is aimed toward the door is Kulko is summoned out. At least he hands her lumpenmug back before going to deal with whatever-it-is. "Coffee's on and hot, Sir," she calls toward Covington. "Started half an hour ago."

Even Lunair seems a bit surprised. "Erm. I can show you a bit of weaving if you want," She offers quietly. "It's kinda neat," She smiles at Aurola. She is definitely caught off-guard by Tis' response, but then - the marine barely knows the woman. Lunair seems to keep to herself a lot. A look to Covington. She's curious, but- cautious. Purple eyes peer. (Gotta have some alliteration).

"Sugarlips, you gonna call me sir ever'time we meet?" The suited pilot reaches up to tug the zipper on her flight suit down further down, revealing a tshirt underneath that is so not standard issue. Only some of the letters can be read, but if one stares and she moves around enough, the slogan will shortly become clear: SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY. She reaches for the coffee pot once she arrives on the coffee station, otherwise known as coffee pot adjacent, and shortly fills her mug. Possession is nine tenths of the law… until the owner comes a huntin'. Then it's just a slap fight.

Aurola nods her head a bit to Tisiphone, "Fine, sorry." She shrugs her shoulders before her attention goes back to Lunair and she offers a soft smile, "I'm sorry, I don't think I'd be good at weaving. How about chess, though? Do you play chess, perhaps?"

Tisiphone, full of sweetness and light. And lack of social graces. She seems unperturbed as Aurola moves off, drinking from her lumpenmug as she moves around the table. Whatever's in there makes her set her teeth against themselves for a moment. "Uh. Sorry, Sir." Er. Oops. "Sorry. Dallas." The corner of her mouth tweaks contritely before she sets her mug down and again leans over the table to line up a shot.

Rojas arrives from the Deck 9.
Rojas has arrived.

A shrug, "She's honest." Lunair offers quietly with a smile. Lunair seems quietly regal in her way, the product of old money and possibly some lost old noble line. Hard telling, she shook it off. "Um. It's been awhile really. But I can try." She looks to her loom. "I guess weaving can wait." Sadface. A shrug at that. Tis gets a passing smile too. "Just don't set me on fire. I'm not a witch and I can't do the evil eye," She promises. Covington gets a curious look. "I swear to the Lords either I've gone senile or there are more pilots than I remember," She rubs the back of her head.

"There ya go," Covington replies. That's Dallas Covington, for those just tuning in at home. She finishes up pouring her coffee, then begins the ritual scour for sweeteners. Sugar or other chemicals that taste reasonably like sugar. The novelty mug in hand is three quarters full or so. She reaches down her zippered suit to scratch her belly. Manners run deep, y'see. At least she's not going for gold. "Tisiphone's kinda long. You got somethin' shorter you like, or 'm I makin' somethin' up?" She glances over at Lunair. "It's ok, sugar. We all look alike."

"Well, I don't know what you'd rather do. I mean, if you want to weave instead, its fine," Aurola replies with an easy smile. "I don't want to get in the way or something."

CLACK. Tisiphone splits a ball off from the others. Again the angle's not quite right, and it rattles back and forth in front of the pocket instead of sinking. She blows out a sigh through her nose, then straightens to drag on her cigarette. Vexed, either at her game, or the hatch through which Junior LT Kulko has not yet reappeared. Men. Always stealing their cigarettes and running. "Tis works best, I guess. Just- not Tisi, please. Frak, I hate that." A second after admitting this to Covington, she looks like she's regretting having said it.

Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink. The sound of metal tapping on metal can be heard down the hallways well before Nathan Rojas even reaches the entrance to the Rec Room. He's in offduties with unlaced boots and no tanktop, face showing a little redness from a hot shower. It's also looking suprisingly perky. That's probably from the shower, too. Tinktinktinktink. His nails drum on the metal mug/tankard in his hand as he steps in, giving only a quick glance around before beelining for coffee. Yes. Mug/Tankard. It's like someone tried to make the first, got drunk, merged it with the second. Aerilon construction, baby. Ignore the embossed '#1 DAD!' on the side, That's just proof he had to steal it. "Ladies."

"Cut me some slack, I get shot in the face for a living," Lunair laughs softly and winks. "… it kind of hurts admittedly," She rubs a cheek ruefully. She smiles at Covington, "Well. We have a lot of pretty women on board," She waves a hand. "I think the mind just gets overwhelmed," A shrug. "I'm Raine Lunair, JiG with the Marines. Pleased to meet cha." She's - cultured! Weirdo. "But um, nicknames are okay too. Again, just please no setting me on fire." Grin. She looks to Tisiphone. "Tis, that's a nice name." Nod. And - it's Rojas. She's looking a bit overwhelmed. She glances to Aurola. "Hm. Bah, I would feel bad ignoring you." Ponder. Gotta be some way to combine these.

Covington glances over to Tisiphone as the pilot breaks and shares a little information. She grins over the rim of her mug, raises it in a salute, and says, "Tis. So noted an' committed ta memory." She glances over to Lunair again, then offers in return, "Dallas Covington, Lieutenant. You can call me Dallas or Skids. Most people go with Dallas. Just easier."

Aurola looks around as introductions are being handed out and she replies, "Dr. Aurola Essenarous. Astrophysics doctor, not a medical doctor." She adds that to the end, just to avoid the inevitable question that she feels will follow.

"Mister Rojas, so good of you to put at least some of your clothes on before joining us." Ever-so-droll, that, Tisiphone's eyes following Nathan for a few seconds as she pads around the table for her next shot. She hems and haws over a couple options, dragging on her cigarette while doing so. It's the cancer-stick's last gasp; she drops it to the floor as she exhales, grinding it out underfoot. Pilots. No respect for the cleaning staff.

"Ms. Apistalolios." Nathan can't help but glance an eye to the pool table, continuing his merry path to the coffee without so much as a dropped step. "Kind of you t'put more fuel on the fact y'ain't got a clue how to handle some balls." Sure, simplistic and none-too-witty. Aerilonian, damnit. When he's close enough, Covington gets a hip-bump, but no grin nor eye-contact. He's a little focused on coffee. "Dally. You fingerfiltch my cup 'gain?"

Lunair curtsies neatly. "Pleased to meet you," She smiles. "Dallas," Lunair repeats. She blinks at Rojas. "He goes without clothes often?" Her eyebrows lift at that. She rubs the back of her head. She just shrugs as chat moves to the cup. She smiles at Aurola, "It's alright. I'm sorry. I should play chess. I just got excited, I found some royal purple silk." Beam. The Marine … weaves. She's apparently like a turtle. Hard shell, but flip her over and she kind of just wiggles helplessly.

"All doctors is the same ta me," Dallas replies, without much of a look over at the mention of titles. "Schooled is schooled. Course only one of them types is ever gettin' my pants off." She grunts and holds her coffee out a little further from her body at the hip bump, lest she spill the steamy liquid caffeine down her flight suit, "Nuh-uh." That's her entire reply to the accusation of stealyness.

"No need to curtsey to me," Aurola says to Lunair, blushing rather deeply while she looks over at Dallas and then frowning slightly, "That's a shame, I'm sure you look lovely without them." She grins faintly, before looking around again, "Okay, so chess it is then."

Tisiphone makes loud and rather bitchy kissy-noises in the direction of Rojas's retreating back. It's late. She's been imbibing. Maybe she'll wake up in the morning and not remember she was out-comeback'd by an Aerilonian. It's a pleasant thought. Another sip from her lumpenmug before backtracking a quarter-lap around the table for her next shot. Le-e-ean. Something amusing in the lay of the table in front of her; she starts snickering to herself.

Dallas glances over at Aurola as if trying to figure out what the woman's talking about. It takes her a few beats, and it's evident she realizes it, and when she realizes what was just said, by the fact that she looks down. Oh, right. Pants. "… Uh." There's a look to Rojas, then the blonde haired pilot asks, real quiet-like for her, which isn't all that quiet-like for other people, "You figure she got designs on my bread basket, or that jus' idle commentary?" Only, with her accent, it comes out like a sentence twice as long.

"Liar." It's not an accusation that Nathan slips out of a curling grin, but a statement. He doesn't seem too peturbed, however, pouring out some of the rich drink into his own- Er, kinda-own mug. "Jus' remember t'give back when done. I ain't got an asses' notion 'bout who this belongs to, but I don't want much to get facebeat by the #1 Dad." Speaking of asses, there's talk about pants. And offness. His head swivels so quickly, it threatens to snap clean off at the neck and keep on going towards the ceiling like a helicopter. Foley, whipcrack noise, stat! He eyes the 'not an actual Doc' Doc. No offense. Up, down, and all sized-up. Then, he mutters aside to the nigh-incomprehensible woman next to him. "Ain't compley sure. Not much in the mood t'be charfinned over the whole deal much neither." He shrugs, then turns back to COFFEE. "Belt an' pandlock mitebit one idea." Aww. they's speaking crazy-speak.

"I'm sure she says everyone looks nice without their pants. Some kind of QUODEL tradition, you know?" Tisiphone's amused again, all right. She has to pause lining up her shot, as a matter of fact, propping her elbows down on the pooltable as her snickering upgrades to chuckles. "So how about Nathan?" She turns and looks straight at Aurola, holding one hand out to indicate Rojas. "You think he'd look lovely without his pants, too? Bet he'd be happy to demonstrate."

"Well, it was in general - there's superior officers here," Lunair smiles politely at Aurola. Dallas was probably included in the gesture. She shrugs. "But sure, I guess a game or two couldn't hurt." THEN happy fun weaving time. A blink at Dallas then Aurola. Lunair looks confused. She rubs the back of her head. "I'm chalking this one up to brain damage. Not that there's any marksmen good enough for that but-" Wink. She just coughs a bit. Lunair has good bearing if nothing else. She only looks ruffled or surprised for a moment. At least there's a faintly regal tinge to her demeanor. "Do you have a chess board?" Lunair finally considers. "You know, I had no idea we had so many Aerilonians aboard. I always expect lots of folks from Caprica and Picon but…" She blurts this out. Then she looks like she licked a shoe. Whoops. Faux pas. She puts a hand to her mouth. "Oh. How rude of me." If only she had a monocle. Then she blinks at nathan. "What? Ohmy." Her eyebrows lift. "Um." "Who's that? And why do you want his pants off? You're not going to dinner first?" Such manners. She looks lost. "I am behind the times." Sadface.

There's a long moment of silence from Covington. Could be she's awash in all the talkin' from people that ain't her. Usually, she's the most verbose gal in the whole wide room. Course, she usually hangs out with pilots. Siiiiip. She slurps her coffee loudly.

Aurola looks between everyone and it seems her brain as her own short circuit for a moment, before she finally looks at Tisiphone. "I did say I wasn't QUODEL, didn't I? I did say that I was here on the ship over seeing some my companies new parts being installed and making sure they were functioning correctly. Didn't I?" She shakes her head for a moment before saying, "Regardless," she looks over at the pointed man and hmms before replying, "No, he's too hairy. Don't like a lot of hair on my guys. Too scratchy and the like."

There's more of that silence, then Covington finally looks over at Rojas, and opens her mouth. Only one simple phrase is uttered thusly, and it goes a little somethin' like this: "That dog don't hunt." A look is shot to Tisiphone, and a quirked smile is hidden from all but the other female pilot by the lifting of her coffee mug.

"Maybe so." Tisiphone offers Aurola an insouciant little shrug, grin slanting back across her face. "Hard to recall. Memory's not so good, you know? It all sorta ran away when I heard you tell the Lieutenant she'd shurr look purty with hurr pants off. What the frak, man?" The words are light, amusement trumping any possible outrage; with another shrug, she's turning back to the pool-table, eyes sweeping past Covington and the scratchy Rojas en route. There must be a shot on the table /somewhere/ that she can make.

Nathan's mug taps the nearest surface, letting him reach out for sweetener as hand runs over newly-shaven scalp with only a minor look of suprise. What'd he have to do? Wax? His tongue clicks against teeth, and he pulls off a little shrug before turning his head slightly towards Dallas. "Then it ain't worth takin'."

"…" Someone may as well have brained Lunair with a frying pan. Her eyebrows go flat. "Well, I - don't know, I guess someone might be nice. He could be warm?" If he's hairy? Although from her tone, Lunair may have had all of 0 experience in such matters. She looks uncertain, like a certain Austrian cat attending a Quantum Physics covention. Rumor has it he drove a box. Car. "wait, a hunting dog?" WHOOSH! Someone didn't get it. She looks to Aurola, then the pilots. Then the yarn. She just hugs the yarn. At least someone loves her.

Aurola looks over at Tisiphone for a moment before she replies, "Try the ten off the fifteen," nodding her head to the pool table, before adding, "And nothing wrong with complimenting another lady on how her legs may or may not look without a jumpsuit on."

There's another of those long slurrrrps from Covington, before she announces in that sweet Southern lilt, "I'm married anyhow." She has the wedding ring and everything. There's a grin, a slight shake of her head, then blondie finishes up her coffee with a chug, since it's cool enough. She hands the mug over to Rojas. "Your property, possum. I gotta get me a shower 'for this stink settles inta my suit." CAP is a sweaty business.

"Ten off the fifteen? That'd be quite the feat, playing nine-ball like I am." Nine-ball lacking any balls above the nine, and all. Tisiphone rolls her eyes toward the ceiling before leaning in for her next shot. She frowns faintly at herself as she does, giving her right shoulder a slight roll before shooting. CLACK. Rojas's comments about her ball-handling skills aren't nearly so true this time — she sinks the shot with only one rattle off the pocket.

Ahah. Lunair has long since given up on keeping track of relationships without a flow chart. She's gonna need some more symbol stickers. Maybe a few shiny ones. "Well, um. Ball handling is tricky," Lunair offers, the innuendo lost on her. "Just um, don't put your eye out okay?" Confusion has sank in. She looks lost. "I'll get a chess board and finish weaving." Yeah there we go. "It was a pleasure to meet you all. It's been interesting, and I had no idea- I need to meet more of the air wing or something," Boggle. Where do they come from? Is there a closet? A fish tank? … an underwear drawer? It is perplexing. "Be well." Nodnod.

Aurola looks over at Covington and blinks a couple of times, "I wasn't saying I wanted to /go/ with you. God, you military types are so confusing and literal. Can't even compliment someone without a dozen accusations in my face," she murmers, before she looks back at Lunair. "Chess some other night, when things are a little less confusing and hostile." She nods her head in Tisiphone's direction, before she starts to walk out with her four-step. Step-step-step-step-pause. Rinse. Wash. Repeat.

Nathan pours out the coffee from his stolen mug to his other stolen mug. That is, his mug that was stolen from him. Aerilon Coffee Etiquette is complicated! "Thanks, darlin'. You go getcherself unner some water." Dallas is dismissed with a hug, except his hands are full with mugs so it's more of a shoulder-bump. "M'startin' to see stink-lines."

"Aw, snookums, you haven't even /seen/ hostile, yet." Tisiphone's grinning a wide, toothsome grin as she says it, eyes bright. CLACK. There's a better shot — sunk straight away. "Go astro your physics, there's a good little civvie." She straightens, turning away from Aurola, rubbing a fist against the small of her back as she does.

Smack. Dallas slaps Rojas' butt before she takes her leave of the duel mug sportin' man. "I find," Covington begins, and then continues, "It's best ta be real clear with folks on account of how handsy I am most times. A Southern lady sometimes hasta share with others who don't quite understand the ways by which they operate." She mms and says, "Saggies is always hostile, honey. It's part of they," She thinks on a moment, then says, "Rural charm. Meaner'n a skilletful 'f rattlesnakes, some of 'em. Others is just a little surly-like." She zips her flight suit up a bit as she reaches the hatch, and notes before she goes, "Also hear all that rage makes 'em great in bed, but I ain't have the opportunity ta investigate 'fore I got married. Maybe somebody can take a poll. Let me know. Girls need somethin' ta talk about over 'shine." With that topic opened, she steps out into the corridor.

Token Cancerons represent? Lunair blinks at Aurola and nods. "I- I'm sorry," She offers quietly, "That sounds good. And I think people juust misundersto— hey wait, military types - I'm a Marine. Do I not look-" Eh! Eh. Lunair's face falls. "… that's depressing. maybe I should take up drinking." Sadface. Sigh. There's a little raincloud over her head now. Her jaw drops at Covington though. Ohmy. "… interesting. Learn something every day. Definitely taking up drinking." Her right eyebrow twitches.

Aurola looks at Lunair and she replies, "I'm sorry, was just making a generalization. Didn't mean to include you in it, you're nice and sweet. You really are." She smiles at Lunair, a rather bright one actually, before she loks back at Dallas and says, "Well, I'll keep that in mind and send you a report if I ever get a chance to."

"S'why there's a bat in my bed, Dally." Is Rojas' parting words. Really, it coule be in reference to damn near anything she said. He's… not the most coherent of folks. "Somewhere in there, anyway." Is added as a mutter before he's sipping out of his favored mug, turning to lean back and watch Tisiphone butcher the game of pool. "Thought Saggie's'd be good at a game involvin' a big stick." Ah, musings.

Gloom. "That's… like totally a bummer," Mutter. Her head's duly lowered though. Totally a bummer. Even Lunair can't escape -all- the downsides of being so near the coast forever. She smiles weakly. "No. It's cool. I get that confusion a lot," She lifts a hand. "No harm, no foul I guess," She shrugs. Sigh. She rubs the back of her head. "I hope that doesn't make me a crabby," That's disconcerting. Oh well. One eye is a little wider and the other eye is a little narrowed. "And I'm learning more about what goes on in certain parts of the ship than ever." Know that tone of voice when someone learns something utterly true yet mind bennding? SPOINK!

Oh, STUNG. Tisiphone straightens up from the table, caught somewhere between her previous toothy grin and a flash of defensiveness. "Did I, or did I not just make that shot perfectly, hey? What's the first frakking thing you'd know about a big stick, anyway?" She sweeps a pointed glance up and down Rojas's frame, lifts a pale brow expectantly at the end of it.

Aurola looks over at Rojas for a couple of moments, before she looks back at Tisiphone and bites her lip for a moment. Finally, she just decides to leave it alone, before her eyes go back to Lunair, and she replies, "I'm sorry, I keep putting my foot in my mouth. Maybe I can make it up to you somehow?"

"Y'hit the corner of the pocket. Saw it." Nathan just keeps on sipping at his coffee, eyes barely giving Tisiphone time of day, let alone a good looking at. "'An I know all about th'difficulties involved in fittin' all nice an' neat in holes. Blessin' and a curse." Well, that kind of answered both statements in horrifically crude fashion. Way to go, Nater.

Lunair smiles and shrugs. "Eh. Don't sweat it." Lunair just rubs the back of her head. "Happens to everyone I guess." She lets it go. She blinks at Nathan. Headtilt. "…" Mouth open. Mouth close. "If that's what's involved, I will probably die alone and without playing pool." Answered with a confused half-entendre.

<Fade Aurola and Lunair for sleep!>

"Right." That's all Tisiphone comes back with? Seriously? That's zero for two rebuttals artfully handled. Team Sagittaron, represent! She snorts loudly — that improves her comeback, right? — as she scoops up her lumpenmug and lifts it for a drink, scowling with that same half-mirthful, half-pissed look at Rojas.

"Godsdamnit, Aparstialiaos. You ain't no challenge tonight. M'gonna have to find a small cild t'punch in the face." What? Nathan's coffee may be filled with mild hallucino-"It'd be more of a challenge." Oh. Snap. "Tell you what…" He steps away from the coffee. Well, the unpoured stuff. He's still go his mug as he makes his way a little door-wards. "I'll slap m'hands on the side of that shiny dome 've'yours, shake y'around a lil', and ask 'Will she get a retort that ain't as piss-poor as the GNP'f'Saggie?'" Yes. 8-ball humour. "Saves us waitin' around an' you flounderin' like a dyin' fish."

"Apostolos. I can get yours right; get mine right." Tisiphone puts down her mug with a little more emphasis than she did, previous times. "What the frak you suddenly riding me for, anyway? You want to play Magic 8-Ball so bad, you come over here and damn well try to put a hand on me." Aww. Someone's getting cross and all a-bristle, now.

"You started it." Nathan shrugs, sipping at his coffee just enough that she gets a glimpse of the mug's base. He's right, mind you. She made the jab about him and pants when he entered. It's been downhill ever since. "S'not my fault if your brain can't keep up." Less wit, more insult. It must be the coffee. Mind you, he does seem entirely un-peturbed by the entire thing. That might change if she gets a good few retorts in, but it's unlikely. The change, not the chance of retorts.

"What, I tried to dare her to make you take your pants off, and that's grounds for you talking shit to me? What the frak, man?" Tisiphone shakes her head in frustration, her mouth trying to twist into a scowl and a grin at the same time. "How the hell- frak, man. Whatever."

"'Mr Rojas, so nice of you to put at least some of your clothes on before joining us.' …Or somethin'." Nathan would airquote, but he's got coffee. Well, had. The last of it disappears with an overly loud slurp and the pilot leans against the door. "You're gonna be like that, I'm gonna piss you off just by talkin'." His accent fades. Dallas is gone. "Don't get all prissy when it bites you in the ass." His mug taps the door. "Basically…" His smile is thin, but wide. The door pries open. "Grow up, Apostolos." Yes, he knows. Hypocrit!

"Prissy? Pissed off? What the frak, Nathan?" Tisiphone's still trapped somewhere between frustration and mirth. "I was in fine frakking spirits when you showed up. It's called teasing, you know? Having fun with someone you're familiar and comfortable with?" She points this out, then stops short for a beat. She might as well be holding up a sign reading, 'Wait, maybe he was just teasing me?'

"Ding!" Nathan 'Ding's. That'd be the sound of the lightbulb that appeared above Tis' head. With a tilt of his cup to her, Nathan adds a little more space between door and wall via use of a leg, and Tisi gets a clicked tongue and a wink. "Now you got it, Money. I gotta go get ready for CAP. Don't break those balls." Double-entendre exit, ten points!

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