| Three's Company |
| Summary: | With time on their hands and in need of burning it, a pick-up game of Pyramid is played. |
| Date: | 03 Oct 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Pyramid Court - Deck 12 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| 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. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #219 |
The Pyramid Court sees a decent amount of activity, but mostly one-on-one games aren't exactly major league. It's a good place to exercise, though, and that explains why Remick is here. She's presently in the centre of the court, aiming the ball at one of the goals and attempting to get one from afar.
Stepping through the hatch leading into the Pyramid Court, Malone pauses when he sees someone else present. Moving to the side of the door, the pilot, currently dressed in the standard sweats, in addition to one particular piece of clothing. The pyramid uniform of the team from the University of Phoibe and Koios on Libran. Remaining quiet for now, as he watches Remick about to take the shot.
Sergeant Lysander is in need of a hefty little distraction right about now, which equates to his need of stepping into the room housing the local pyramid court. He whistles under his breath, a low and casual gesture, while brushing a hand over the front of his shirt. He's dressed for the occasion. In particular, and somewhat comical, the aforementioned shirt is a bright blue, red, and gold with the plastered logo of the Aerilon Avengers on it: kitschy. The man cannot simply barge in though; he's taking stock of the others and pausing there, in the entrance, before further glancing aside. "I hate the Avengers," is called out by the marine, to no one in particular, interruption or not.
Remick pulls her arm back and slings the ball towards the goal, bouncing just off the lip of the goal and causing her to shrug her shoulders. It is at that moment that she turns to look at the other two, moving to retrieve the ball from the floor near the goal, "You two waiting to play?"
"Nice try there," Malone offers in Remick's direction, with a half-smile, before he glances over at Lysander, "You could have fooled me there," he offers to the Marine, before he nods at Remick's words. "I was just planning to go here for some quiet exercise, but sure," he offers, with a bit of a smile.
"Only frakkin' thing I could find left from all the store raiding," is murmured by Lysander to Malone before he clears his throat and lifts his attention to settle in Remick's direction. He tucks in his thumbs into the pockets of his shorts and presses his tongue into the side of his mouth, thoughtfully so. "Well," he inclines his head, watching the ball for a lingering moment. "Better now than never - yeah, I can do a couple of matches." Then again, as he begins to step out of the entrance and in the general direction of center court it's looking to be more barging in on things than simply waiting.
"I haven't played since I was in the Corps," Remick admits, tossing the ball in the direction of Malone, "But I think I've still got it in me. Get in here and we'll play some one vee one vee one."
Malone moves forward a bit to catch the ball, then steps into the court, passing the ball onwards to Lysander for now. "Haven't played much since I graduated from University, myself." Nodding a little bit to the others as he studies them for a few moments.
Lysander comes to a stop near to the others and reaches smoothly out in order to catch the incoming ball. It's held in his left hand for a bit and then switched to his right, back and forth as he listens, and he tosses back towards Remick when speaking up. "Before my last tour on Sag', an' before this, so last year, Fort Alastor," he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "So what comes after the Cee-Em-Cee?"
"Law school," comes Remick's flat reply to Lysander's question. She catches the ball and twirls it about on her finger for a moment. She may not play, but she does know a few flashy tricks, "Looks like we're all amateurs then."
"Law school," Malone repeats as he hears that, pausing for a few moments, before he adds, "Where did you study that, if I may ask?" Nodding a bit at that part about them all being amateurs.
Lysander makes a face at the thought of law school, but with wrinkling the bridge of his nose, lightly frowning, and knitting his brows he wipes the expression away just as quickly as it had appeared. His eyes follow after the ball and its movements while he rolls out his right shoulder and steps towards a goal. Offhandedly, he still listens. The marine pivots there and comes to face the two. "I'll take a wager on Picon, or Caprica, maybe Leonis."
"There go your cubits," Remick says with a half-smirk at Lysander, "I was at the University of Themis, on Libran." She crosses her arms, eyeing the pair of them suspiciously from her place in the centre of the court, "What? Is there an anti-lawyer bias on this ship or something?"
Malone shakes his head at Lysander. "Everyone knows the best law schools are on…" And then he hears Remick's answer, nodding a bit as he moves to one of the goals. "No anti-lawyer bias from me. My brother-in-law's one of them, and he was my best friend during our time as students." See, no anti-lawyer stuff from the guy that was very close to being one himself.
"Huh. My only savin' grace is that they're pretty worthless nowadays," which is now the sole thing the Sergeant is being proud about with regards to Warday. He returns Remick's smile with one of his own and gives a tip of his chin, conceding to his defeat of a wrong answer respectfully. He offers a small explanation himself, "Me - not so much, sir, just tackin' it to my other future career choices, as limited as they are nowadays."
"Don't write yourself off just yet, sarge, I'm sure there's a lot of career opportunities in being a doorstop," Remick says with an actual grin, good-natured ribbing rather than cruel insults, "So, we going to play or not?"
Malone smiles as he listens to the others. "Let's play," he offers after a few moments of pause, expression a bit thoughtful for now.
Lysander quietly laughs to Remick's response and takes a half-step forward. It's much easier for him to take things in stride rather than maybe be insulted. It gets him easily grinning and him doing another idle stretch of muscles before he clasps his hands briefly together. After a glance over the shoulder in the direction of the goal behind him, he speaks up, "All right, this doorstep's ready to kick some frakkin' ass, with all due and proper respect, that is."
"Shut up and get the ball off me," Remick says, the broad grin still on her face. With that, she immediately begins to make her way towards the goal, ducking and weaving in an effort to avoid the pair.
"And so it begins…" Malone comments. He doesn't move forward in an attempt to take the ball yet, looking to try waiting for the right moment now.
Lysander promptly shuts the frak up and steps up on command. With a sidelong glance sent in Malone's direction he pushes himself in Remick's, taking long strides in order to move across the small court. The marine starts off strong: Right about now, a good offense is a good enough defense in his books, and he'll be going for the tackle, superior officer or not.
Remick darts to one side, using Lysander's momentum to slip past him and force herself into a faster pace towards the goal. She keeps an eye on Malone, head ducked and features set in a mask of concentration. For a woman in her forties, she certainly has some moves.
Moving forward now, while still trying to keep his goal well defended, Malone's attention is on Remick for the moment. Not quite diving in for a tackle or something yet, he seems to be waiting for the woman to make a mistake, or something like that.
Lysander goes for the grab and ends up with a frakton of air, not that he particularly minds just yet. He will when he's sitting in last place when it comes to scores. Still, the Sergeant is good on his feet and he kicks back to circle around and head after Remick. With Malone at his side, Lysander takes his time in flanking around to the opposite side of Remick. The chase is on.
Remick isn't an acrobat, but she does duck and roll with the best of them - being shot at can teach you that kind of thing. She moves once more in an attempt to avoid Lysander, a little closer than she would like that time but she's still goalward bound.
And that would be about the time that Malone moves in for a tackle, attempting to get hold of that ball. Moving as fast as he can now, expression one of intense concentration.
"Let's see what you've got!" Lysander looks over once again in order to gauge Malone's movements and coordinate himself alongside them against Remick. He goes in closer with a feint this time around before ducking aside with Malone's incoming tackle, and moving to circle around and place himself between Remick and the looming goal.
Remick manages to roll with Malone's tackle, almost escaping it but finding herself caught at the last minute. As she goes down to the deck, however, she hurls the ball towards the goal with force - looking marine or not, she's gonna try for a goal.
Malone looks around carefully as the shot heads for the goal. Following the ball with his gaze, as he moves to get over in that direction. Moving a bit too slow, though.
Lysander, in his usual of being fairly boisterous, is calling out again with a short-lived whoop but the ball is going and it's headed aloft towards the goal. The marine is still on his feet though and it has to go over his head in the process so he hops backwards while bringing up his right hand, unable to grab it given the short notice but he does well in deflecting things in the long run. Free ball, and the sergeant is currently off-balance.
Remick actually rolls to her feet, an impressive sight if you're interested in that sort of thing, and jumps up to run after the ball. She's not slowed down, broad grin on her face - she's missed this.
Having already been on the run in the direction the ball traveled, Malone is moving far quicker than he was before now. Diving in for the ball, he manages to stretch out his arm enough to get hold of it, at least for the moment. Working on getting back to his feet, with the ball in his care for now, though.
"All right, all right," Lysander pipes up with now that the ball is about to be back in play. There's a confident half-smile set over his expression as he comes down onto both of his feet, rolling from the left and to the right before stepping forward. He places himself back into the game and moves right after Remick. The plays have gotten his heart beating harder and adrenaline pumping, even more with his following after the impressive JAG and skillful vipe-pilot.
Remick spots the ball in Malone's hands and immediately launches herself forward for a waist-level tackle, attempting to bring the pilot to the ground so she can scoop up the ball for another shot at goal.
Malone manages to avoid the incoming tackle at the moment, although only barely. Starting to move forward for one of the goals, he looks around rather carefully to see where the two others are now.
Lysander winces momentarily so but the two of them, marine and ex-marine, are still in the game. He takes a side-step to better place himself in defense of both distant goals but there's still a bit of room to move between him and Malone. With a tilted smirk, the man then moves in to try and stagger things upon Remick's tackle. His center of gravity is placed low with stooped shoulders and arms partially out at his sides, knees bent and his gaze focused on the ball and the pilot currently driving it. Rather than go for a tackle, Lysander shifts in closer for an elbowing grapple in an effort at muscling the ball away.
Remick, having missed, is forced to take a moment to get to her feet and reevaluate her attack on the ball carrier. She comes around in a wide circle, hoping to intercept him as he nears the goal.
Malone sees Lysander coming in, but doesn't manage to avoid the attempt to muscle the ball away. "Mine…" he calls out a bit lightly as he attempts to push the marine away, without loosing the ball. There might be an attempt to trip said marine in the process too.
"Not for long," is amiably replied with by Lysander and he gets a hand on the ball before he's moved to the side. With his footing forward and his torso aiming itself backwards, he takes the tripping fairly graciously and lands on all fours, for the most part, only to call out to the Captain of the group: "He's all yours, sir!" Though, not that he's meaning to, he does have to take a break and with a hand lifted into the air he heads for the seats nearby.
The Good Sergeant Lysander can still watch the ongoing match, of course.