Summary: The Cerberus and Areion crews dance, drink and bond over booze at Colonial Pete's in celebration of CPT Lana "Dizzy" Drake's belated birthday.
Date: 23 Jan 2042 AE
Related Logs: None
Drake Marduk Moran Wade Andromeda Kepner Roland Evandreus McQueen Malone Andrea Sawyer 
Colonial Pete's - MV Elpis
Colonial Pete's is the long-awaited successor to Kythera's Aquarian Pete's, though this version is more bar than strip club. Not that there aren't any strippers here, in fact there's even a raised platform complete with pole built just for them. The majority of the room, however, is dominated by mis-matched tables and chairs and a long bar. Lighting is haphazard, the harsh fluorescents that came with the place usually left off in favor of lower lighting from scavenged lamps and even a bit of neon rustled up from somewhere and hung behind the bar. There's a pretty decent sound-system playing a wide variety of music, and a couple of low-tech bar games, like a mini pyramid arena. There are always a few burly-looking guys around to keep an eye on rowdy patrons, and especially to guard the doors to the back rooms, where the stills are kept along with (rumors say) a few private alcoves for those willing to pay extra for one-on-one time with the girls. A large black chalkboard that once adorned Cerberus' Ready Room hangs behind the bar. Scrawled on its surface beneath a crude picture of a steaming bowl are the words 'SOUP OF THE DAY: MOONSHINE.'
Post-Holocaust Day: #331

December 21 was more than a month ago, but that is why this has been billed as a belated birthday party. Not that certain members of the VX-1 "Spectres" haven't gotten an early start since the Fleet returned to Condition Three, because they totally have. Case in point, the guest of honor and her RL wingman, partner-in-awesome, soul twin, and Master of Ceremonies arrive extra-bubbly from some of the bubbly they'd been drinking since before they and their entourage were chauffeured on over by the fine officers of the VAQ-121 "Screwtops".

"Dimples!" doth Dizzy squee upon entering the oasis that is Colonial Pete's and seeing all the stops that Fiasco has pulled out to gussy up the place for festivities. All manner of banners have been hung to wish her a HAPPY BIRTHDAY, so every which way someone may turn, they know what time it is. On the stage, Marduk's beloved portable karaoke machine is fired-up and ready to go, although some super up-beat dance music is currently thumping over the sound system.

Not that Fiasco isn't often bubbly as it is, and those who don't know him well could be forgiven for not actually being able to tell when he's been drinking and when he hasn't. "You like it?" he grins at Drake, "I painted that one myself," he points at one of the particularly-garish banners. "Annnd I brought my girlfriend!!" he points at the karaoke machine on the stage with a big grin, "We're totally doing a duet in like, T minus twenty or something. Stat. But first, drinks! Woo! Happy birthday, Diz!" The last is shouted, complete with an arm thrown up into the air and then he steers up to the bar.

Allison "AWOL" Moran of the "Spectres" strolls in after Dizzy and Fiasco. A relative calm to their storm. But she hasn't started drinking yet. "Pity we don't have crayons on board, Gabe," she observes dryly. "Or perhaps not. I shudder to think of the cockpit pin-up art you'd produce." The pale, dark-haired woman adds, with a slight but genuine smile to Drake, "Happy birthday, Dizzy."

Fiasco told Wade to drop by the party when he returned his Viper, so here he is. Wade is wearing a navy blue short sleeved shirt with thin silver stripes running vertically on the fabric of said shirt; he also wears a pair of blue jeans and black…running shoes? Hey, it's what he got from all that salvage. For the first time, he sets foot in Colonial Pete's, so he takes a moment to look around and see everything. Of course, he also spots the decorations so he'll have to come back when all this is gone. For the time being, he scans the crowd, looking for familiar faces.

Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, the reclusive Dr. True has actually decided to attend a social event — or maybe she's always secretly haunted strip clubs during her down time. It's always the quiet ones, right? When the guest of honor and her crew arrive, Andromeda is already at the bar, dressed in her off-duty fatigues, her only nod to a more festive spirit her hair — worn down, instead of in her signature severe pony tail. She's nursing what looks like… whiskey? Scotch? Something. Apparently she doesn't frak around when it comes to drinking, either. She lifts her rocks glass, tipping it slightly in salute, as Drake and company tool up to the bar. "Happy birthday, Captain," she says softly, using what seems to be the same tone she employs to deliver a dim medical prognosis.

Roland finds his way to Pete's by following the stream of people. Taking his bearings as he steps inside, and locates the bar, and changes course to thread his way through the mis-matched tables heading in the general direction.

Much as it is with Marduk, most people who don't know Lana "Dizzy" Drake particularly well would be excused for assuming that she's always a bit buzzed. In truth, she is, but that's just a natural high on life. Tonight, though, there is also booze. "You have the best girlfriend ever, Dimples. She's seriously hot, always down for a good time, and is totally into orgies and gang bangs." Then, quite abruptly, she's exclaiming, "Ohmigods, Gabe! We're totally wearing togas for your bash. I'll make us some cute little wings and laurel crowns." And, equally abruptly and with all the skill she employs in the cockpit, the blond is slinging her arms around AWOL in an enthusiastic hug. "Aww, thanks, Wolly. Come on. Let's get some drinks in ya." Only to then spot Andromeda, whom she gifts with a big smile and a merry wave. "Heya, True Blue!"

Evandreus isn't all that close with either the party planner or the birthday girl, to be perfectly honest, but ever since the last bout of Raptorball he's gotten to be pretty tight with Halflife, and so, since Stiffy's still giving him the cold shoulder for having gone on and played without her, he's joined his one-time backseater for his first trip to the fabled bar. It's well-timed, too, since he'd just finished up his last course of treatments from the S'bayers a few weeks back and his liver has, some six months later, been declared fit for duty. And so here he is, bullshitting with Enny on their way in, dressed casually, jeans and a t-shirt, sneakers, nothing too weird.

"Well, well, well!" Commander Kepner's booming voice precedes him as he strides into Colonial Pete's. In his dress grays, no less. The man doesn't screw around when it comes to his party attire. "How the hells we doing tonight?" He's carrying a bottle in one hand, a bright red bow tied around the middle of it, eyes bright and a wide grin splitting his face. "This place is flashier than I pictured it. But, hells, why not? Might as well burn brightly while we still go time to burn, is what I say."

The heavy stomp of boots against deck echoes throughout the corridor outside. The acrid smell of one of the cigars that somehow he bamboozled out of Allan Rejn curls in the air, and in steps Trevor McQueen amongst the throng of people. Said stoge is propped firmly between his teeth, and a faded, once-garish Aquarian tourist shirt hangs over his shoulders. An equally faded t-shirt in big black letters that reads, "I AM NOT C.I.B." His pale face is a bit flushed, indicated that maybe he already got started.

Fiasco, for his part, is wearing a t-shirt best described as a fiasco all its own. The base is black, but it is covered in a giant crowned tiger surrounded in knives and roses and all of it brightly colored, shiny, and even lightly bedazzled with rhinestones. It's completely ridiculous, and suits him perfectly. "TOGA!" he announces his agreement to Dizzy's idea, and then grins at AWOL, "Drink up, Alliebabe! Time to parTAY!" He passes shots around to his fellow Spectres and really anyone else who might be nearby, which includes Andromeda and after a second, "Drips! You made it! Have a birthday shot, dude!"

Crabby squawks out, "Alert Stations! Alert Stations!"

Now Wade spots AWOL and he makes his way to where she is. "Hey AWOL, good to see you here" offers the man, carrying a soft smile. His attention is taken by Fiasco and he chuckles with some amusement "Told you I would come, and sure…" Talking about birthday shots, it seems that those are being handed around so he has no difficulty in acquiring one. He smells it for a sec and then downs in, closing his eyes hard and wrinkling his nose, clearly not used to alcohol. "Interesting stuff." Now, he looks at Dizzy and nods to her "Happy late Birthday…" Kepner's entrance calls for his attention "Commander, good to see you again, Sir" Because he is wearing Colonial Uniform so he doesn't know if Sir is required for him or not.

Evandreus smells Rejn before he sees him. Which is easy, since he doesn't see him at all. The smell takes a full moment, during which he appreciatively watches the Commander dole out the birthday gift, to click in his mind as related to the man in question, and then he spends another moment looking for him, only to have his eyes settle on Queenie, instead. Heading over, "How'd you manage that?" he wonders in McQueen's direction while Enny goes on ahead to pay his respects.

"Thank you," Andromeda accepts the shot glass from Fiasco, wafting a sniff with the same caution she might use to identify reagents in the lab. She skims a taste off the meniscus, licking her upper lip to discover that — yeah. Shots are meant to be shot for a reason. This ain't no sippin' tea. She pulls a face and knocks back the liquor in a flicker, cleansing her palate with a sip of scotch. Ahh. Much better. She flashes a quick smile at Kepner's arrival, the man's charisma rallying even her a tiny bit.

Roland shoulders in at an empty spot at the bar. He glances back at another round of shouting before looking to flag down the tender. He watches as the man double times past him setting up more drinks at the part gathering. He lets out a long breath, and turn to lean back against the bar, watching the big goings on.

"Blackmail." Queenie mumbles mildly, pulling the cigar away as he notes Evandreus' inquiry and punctuates it with something of a lazy smile. "Of course, since it's blackmail, I can't actually tell you what I caught the bastard doing." Something probably hideous, no doubt. "Nah, to tell the truth, I — traded for it. I didn't even directly get it from him. Several parties were involved. If he found out I had it he'd be shittin' himself." Finally falling silent, he looks about the environ of the bar - one might almost say there is a wary hesitation, at least when lingering on the folks from the CEX. It doesn't stop his approach though.

"I'll have a cuppa. Or two. Though I doubt there's much hope in my catching up to you at this point," AWOL replies to Fiasco with that wry little grin of hers. "Doctor True." The Viper pilot can't quite hide her surprise to see Andromeda out, but she does look pleased to see her. "I'm quite glad you could make it. You'll like the Regulars, I think." The term isn't used with a trace of derision from her, just a descriptor. "Oh, Bunny! Drips! You came." Both pilots earn a slightly wider grin from her. Though she doesn't not immediately say more, attention fixing on Kepner.

Oh so happily taking the offering shot, the belated birthday girl raises it in toast and to clank before proclaiming, "Down the hatch!" Those sparkling blue eyes of hers further glisten in response to the varnish she just sent tumbling down her throat. "WHEE!" That would be Dizzy's counterpoint to Fiasco's trademark "WOO!" Oh so bubbly, she greets Wade with, "Drips! You made it! Yay!" Spoken as if they were old pals or some such thing. Then again, if it's not a Cylon, Lana Drake tends to view just about everyone as an old pal. Even Commander Rudolph Kepner. "Uncle Rudy!" The most beatific of smiles is beamed at her hero-worshipped Commanding officer. "You came!" Oh, how she beams like the summer sun. One of the signs that she actually is inebriated? She flounces off to go give her CO a jubilant hug. "We just got started on shots. You gonna stick around for carrier landings?" Because this /is/ a pilots party.

Kepner gets a sharp chuckle out of 'Uncle Rudy.' But he doesn't object. He's clearly in a mood to put up with such things tonight, particularly to indulge the birthday girl. "Dizzy, girl. This one…" He holds up his arms, still wielding the bottle, as if to rally everyone's attention. "…flies like a frakking hummingbird. Makes us up in CIC nauseous, trying to follow her on the DRADIS. But she's a hell of a fighter. Hell of a fighter. We've been through some hard roads this last year. No question. Captain Drake, you've been Evocati through and through. You're a credit to your ship, your wingmates, and gods willing you can hold your liquor. I've liberated this bottle of genuine Aerilon apple wine from my stores, just for this occasion. Might as well enjoy it while we've got it! Drink and be merry. Who knows what hells tomorrow will bring, but we're alive tonight."

Evandreus finds Queenie's leisurely approach of the group a suitable pace by which to set his own, and he tucks his hands into his pockets, slouching along beside him as he listens to the story— such as it is. "Well, I won't tell him, then. No sense making the fellow upset, is there?" His eyebrows pop upward once as he hears his name called, and he spends a moment looking through the group for its source before aiming a bright smile and a wave over in AWOL's direction. His trajectory brings him back into Halflife's vicinity in time to gife him a grateful smile in return for a fetched drink, just in time for Kepner's toast. That was a toast, right? 'Cause be it or no, Evan's calling out, "So say we all," in its wake, and giving the drink a lift into the air and then another to his lips.

"Yay" says Wade to Dizzy as he lifts his empty shot glass. Definitely without the same energy, but hey, it's a yey, right? He does offer a smile to the Birthday girl. He smiles at AWOL as well and nods to her "Wouldn't have missed it. Besides, wingmates stick together right?" He chuckles at this and then takes a deep breath, focusing his attention on Kepner now as the man tells everyone just how awesome Dizzy is.

"Wooo!" is Fiasco's unsurprising stand-in for any sort of toast, and he knocks back his shot as the bartender pours another round, just lining up a whole bunch of shotglasses and pouring in the moonshine so Marduk can pass them out. "Glad you made it, bro!" he says to Wade, "Ready to party, I hope! ParTY! You ready to party, man?" he asks Roland, spotting the other pilot at the bar and passing him over a shot. "Do I know you?" he asks as he offers the drink and a big grin and then shrugs, "Eh, I do now! Close enough, am I right? UNCLE RUDY IN DA HOUSE!" He cheers and then shuts up to listen to Kepner's little speech raptly, and then cheer even more loudly at the last, "DIZZZZZYYYY! WOOOO!"

"Lieutenant," Andromeda greets AWOL, flickering a faint smile. "I'm sure they're very nice…" She doesn't sound at all sure, but does sound like she's being politely agreeable. Kepner's announcement garners her attention immediately, for she's never really ceased to watch him, at least from the corner of her eye. She listens to his praise of Drake, then dips her chin and lifts her glass once more. "So say we all."

"Oh, there's /always/ a point to doing that." Comes McQueen's clipped reply to Evandreus, but that is all he has to say about that. Finally pushing his way (in a surprisingly gentle fashion) through the crowd to the bar, he leans on it with one open hand and quiets down long enough to absorb Kepner's speech. His echo of "So say we all" pretty much mirrors Andromeda's. This done, he turns his attention to booze. Or the pursuit of it.

Roland blinks in surprise as Fiasco pushes a drink into his hand. He smiles slightly, and nods several times, "Blue.." He lifts his glass to salute at nobody in particular, and tosses it back. He winces as the booze bites back, noddding, "Roger that."

"So say we all!" AWOL adds to the chorus to Kepner's words. Then she turns her focus back to Wade and Andromeda. "Drips, this is Lieutenant Andromeda True," AWOL says, on Andromeda's behalf. "She's Medical over on the Areion. She keeps us in good repair. Andromeda, Lieutenant J-G Wade Duncan. We've been wingmates together in a few of the 'team building' exercises over on Cerberus. It's been a rather interesting challenge, actually." McQueen, and his t-shirt, are eyed with a sort of dry amusement. "You're lucky. It's been ages since the Commander broke into his wine stores. It's wonderfully sweet." Though she finishes her shot first. Might as well get that first one out of the way. She does it in near unison with Roland, complete with the slight wince.

Rudolph Kepner might as well be Zeus himself with the way the heralded hummingbird gazes upon him. The Aerilon apple wine just as well could be ambrosia itself. Hells, if Dizzy's smile could get any broader, the sun itself might just split through her face to shine further radiance on the Commander. The praise? Well, she basks in it. And then she echoes Fiasco by repeating, "Uncle Rudy in da house! Evocati in da house! So say we all, sir! So say we all." Another shot down the hatch. "Oh! Oh! Dimples! We /totally/ should do that duet." Because Kepner is here.

That, and because it is awesome.

Wade smiles at AWOL as he listens to her and then he moves his attention towards Andromeda. He extends his hand to her and he says "A pleasure to meet you, Andromeda True" Now, he looks at AWOL again and he nods in acceptance "It's been a challenge, it's interesting to be able to fly with other pilots, you can always learn from others so that is always a plus" He nods firmly to this and then takes a deep breath, downing yet another shot glass, same results. He shakes his head and looks at the empty glass "This thing is strong"

"Happy birthday, girl," Kepner says, beaming with almost fatherly pride at Dizzy as he sets the bottle down on the bar. The partiers can pour or pull from it as they will. With that, he sits. "Marduk! Get me a drink. I feel like celebrating tonight."

Evandreus needs to be a little bit more intoxicated before he can just start knocking this stuff back. As it is, eyebrows contorted comically, he makes his way through the drink with the full knowledge that it would hurt less to take it all at once, but without the willpower to quite make that happen. Still, he gets through it, and he'll let that one work on him a while before he tries anything else, heading over with emptied glass in hand to go say hi to AWOL properly, carelessly eavesdropping on the introductions and giving the True one a lopsided grin. "Hey, AWOL, hey guys," he tells them.

"Don't be blue, dude, it's a party! Happy times, yo!" This from Fiasco to Roland, apparently misunderstanding the man's introduction. Not that he gives him too much chance to correct the situation, busy turning back to his fellow Areion-ites and the rest of the growing crowd to add his whoop to Dizzy's echo of his cheer. Really. He bounces as he waits to hear Drake's idea, and then some more, nodding, "Yes! Duet time! Right now! Let's go! Let's go! On stage L-dizzle, you prep my girl while I get The Big R here his drink." He gives Dizzy's ass an encouraging shove stage-wards and then orders, "Another round!" as he snags a couple of the remaining shots and brings them over to Kepner. "Cheers, sir!"

Crabby squawks out, "Keep the frakkin jarheads out!"

Andromeda visibly rallies herself to be social, sitting up straighter and draining what little remains of her scotch. She takes Wade's proffered hand in a firm, but brief, grip. "Lieutenant Duncan," she inclines her head. She crunches and ice cube, attending the pilot talk, looking marginally curious. "Do our pilots fly very differently?" she asks, glancing between Drips and AWOL. "Why… I'm sorry, I know nothing about flying, obviously… but why is it such a challenge, the team building?" She glances a moment at Evan, returning his smile faintly.

Roland opens his mouth to say something else to Fiasco, but closes it as the other pilot moves off. He considers his empty glass a moment before, trying to flag down the bartender again holding his glass up as an illustration. He shakes his head, as the man moves by, and leans over the bar to grab whatever bottle he can find behind. He squints at the label and shrug, refilling his glass.

And oh, Queenie finds it. Liquor that is. As he takes a puff on his stoge, he cranes his head to one side and lines appear upon his forehead, momentarily peering at AWOL. He them comically throws his head back and lets out a big fat puff o' smoke, almost-cartoonishly. "I suppose we can give thanks to the Commander for this then, yeh?" He throws his head back as he downs a gulp, setting the glass down on the bar with a hard 'thump'. And, typical for him, he butts into the nearby conversation. "We all fly different, Doc. Some of us just happen to fly more or less crazy than our counterparts, y'see?"

On their merry way go Dizzy and her encouraged ass, but not before she pours herself a glass of the gifted 'ambrosia' and tells the others, "Drink up and celebrate one of life's many pleasures!" Said bottle is then passed around. No scrooge is she. And then she, her drink, and her aforementioned ass depart for for the stage. "It should be cued up!" she calls out to one of Pete's employees.

Wade smiles and shakes his head at Andromeda "It's not about the Areion pilots flying different than the Cerberus ones. It's about…" he stops himself as if thinking how to phrase it, but he finally adds "It's about knowing your wingman's quirks, being able to understand how the other person handles a bird and how they can better work together. Call it, learning to understand one-another. After this, he looks back at AWOL to see if she wishes to drop her two cents as well, perhaps to add something completely different? Now he looks at McQueen and nods "Yeah, we all fly different"

"It's less that we fly so very differently, but— everyone has his or her unique quirks, yah? And part of piloting is being able to work in unison. Vipers fly in pairs, and a Raptor takes two, front seat and back, right? It's like dancing. Any two people can dance together, but it takes practice for two people to dance together particularly well," Evan grins as he comes to the tail end of his explanation. "So if in an emergency I need to fly with Halflife in my backseat, we won't be awkwardly grinding on the dance floor or stepping on each other's feet, but we'll have some basic moves worked out," he mixes the metaphorical and the realistic with a liberal smattering of chuckle.

"Actually, I think we all fly fairly well together," AWOL says. "It's the exercises themselves that have been challenging. Moreso than I thought they would be, I shall admit. But, it's not as if the Cylons give us any breaks, so the simulators shouldn't either. At least in there all you can wound is your pride." She nods to Evandreus. "Bunny's correct. Though I thought you and Halflife worked fairly seamlessly together. I'd gladly take you runner Raptor interference for my Viper any time." The metaphor about the dance floor gets a laugh from her as she gets herself a glass of wine. "That's a…descriptive way of putting it. But it's apt. So, how are you lot at *actually* dancing?" The question seems aimed at Wade, McQueen and Evandreus all. And she eyes Roland out of the corner of her eye. Curious about what out-of-cockpit moves the Cerberus boys may possess.

Roland lifts his glass to drink, but pauses. He nods over to the conversation, "More like dancin with knives…. You still have to move, but it helps if you know what your partner is going to do with theirs."

Malone arrives from the Elpis Corridor.

Andromeda says, "I see," Andromeda nods, eyes moving from pilot to pilot as they explain. "That makes sense. Medicine — surgery, especially — isn't nearly as improvisational. Everything is very… precise and proscribed. Methodical." She eyeshifts a bit, as though feeling a bit keenly that she's stating the obvious, and perhaps being a little pretentious to boot. She blushes. "It must be very — is it working? I mean… do you feel… more a team?" She crunches another ice cube, turning and putting her glass back on the bar. "More of this," she tells the bartender, sliding a voucher over. Then, quickly shaking her head, "I don't dance. 'First do no harm' and all that.""

"I see," Andromeda nods, eyes moving from pilot to pilot as they explain. "That makes sense. Medicine — surgery, especially — isn't nearly as improvisational. Everything is very… precise and proscribed. Methodical." She eyeshifts a bit, as though feeling a bit keenly that she's stating the obvious, and perhaps being a little pretentious to boot. She blushes. "It must be very — is it working? I mean… do you feel… more a team?" She crunches another ice cube, turning and putting her glass back on the bar. "More of this," she tells the bartender, sliding a voucher over. Then, quickly shaking her head, "I don't dance. 'First do no harm' and all that."

Marduk does a shot with the commander, which he clearly thinks is awesome, even going up for a high-five, pushing his luck a little before bounding off towards the stage. He leaps up to join Dizzy, bending over the karaoke machine and checking settings and levels and cables with practiced, gentle hands. He even looks like he might be talking to the machine under his breath. But what are the chances he can actually speak that quietly? Slim to none. At any rate, he acquires the wireless mics and calls to Drake, "All set when you are, L-babe! Everyone!" this last into the microphone as he turns it on, "We've got a very special performance for you all tonight! Or a performance for a very special night? You know, whatever! It's gonna be sweet! So get ready for the hot, the talented, the totally tone-deaf but very very flexible… DIZZY! WOOOOOO!"

"Cheers, Lieutenant," Kepner says, chuckling before knocking back the shot Fiasco delivers him. He doesn't immediately go for another drink. He isn't, really, here to drown his senses, but to bask in the company of his men and women, and those Cerberus personnel who've come for wine and song.

Wade agrees with what is being said about wingmates and flying and…the works. His attention drifts to Andromeda again as she asks that and he nods to her "I think it's working, yeah. I do believe AWOL and myself are good wingmates so I guess that signals success in these tests, right?" He smiles at the Spectre Pilot now and then adds, to answer her question "I'm…alright, at dancing." He smiles at this an adds "Used to go clubbing a lot with a friend" She'll know who that friend was. Now, he drifts his gaze towards Fiasco and he shakes his head "This should be interesting." Last, but not least, he looks at Roland and nods to the other pilot "Hey Blue"

Andrea arrives from the Elpis Corridor.

"Well, guess you can make the assumption that it's easier to break shit than it is to put it back together." McQueen notes glibly towards Andromeda as he fumbles with an empty glass, inspecting it shortly before it is refilled. "Cheers!" He takes another drag off his cigar. His thick brow rises as he turns to eye AWOL. "Dancing? You mean, like, actual dancing?" He starts fumbling in his pocket and proceeds to produce a drink ticket, setting it on the bar. "There we go. Anyway, it's not like I practice when nobody is looking."

"I think so," Evan pipes up brightly, then gives AWOL an almost shy little smile at her praise, the smile of a guy not entirely accustomed to receiving it. "Yah, Enny's a great guy, he can fly backseat for me anytime. We hit a few rough patches, but I think we cleared things up pretty well by the end. Ha!" he goes on, in re: her question. "I can dance as long as there aren't any steps. I could never quite get the hang of counting steps." And then there's a show in progress, and there's more drink to be had, and that first one is warming his cheeks a little already, paving the way for another.

A screech of feedback cuts through the dance music. "It's on, right?" She asks Marduk. It is. "Oh." Sheepishly, she realizes such and starts to giggle before she dramatically gestures towards her sidekick. "And Fiasco! Who is totally hot, too, and has the best hair. Like, seriously, he does. Oh! And he can totally sing AND shake his fine ass while doing it. That's talent." And for those interested in such things, their chemistry is non-sexual. It's like a queen and his fag hag, except Marduk is metrosexual and not homosexual. "Ready, babe?" she asks him.

Roland nods over to Wade, and lifts his glass up to him before he drains it, "Drips." He throws back the shot wincing a bit less, before turning his attnetion back up the stage. He glances over the the AWOL, and pilots he doesn't know yet, before look back as is the mic screeches.

The door opens up, and Andrea "Hosedown" Demarcos waltzes in like she owns the place. The redhead smiles as she sees all thats going on, and she heads over to Wade with a grin. "Hey there, Drips. Miss me?"

"Ready, Diz!" Fiasco calls back with a nod. He poses as she introduces him, simultaneously flexing one of arms demonstratively, touching at his hair with a couple fingers, and doing a quick little dance move. Apparently multi-tasking is also a talent. He then bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for the birthday girl to kick it off.

Making his way inside a few moments after that redhead, Malone looks around for a few moments, shaking his head a little bit. Keeping quiet for now, as he steps a bit to the side of the door.

"I miss the clubs in Caprica City," AWOL says, leaning on the bar and sipping more leisurely at her glass of wine than she did her shot. "I was brought up in Delphi, but I got to C-City on holiday when I was university at times, and it was absolutely *mad*. It's strange, to think of what it must be like now…" But that's a sad thought, and she does not pursue it. Smiling a Wade and Evandreus. "Tonight, you both owe me a dance. In the interests of inter-ship cooperation." She reaches out to touch Andromeda's shoulder lightly. "Oh come, Doctor True. Everyone says that. No one cares if you're good in clubs, really. You just move and let the music do the rest. It's quite fun. This one with the cigar looks like he needs a wingmate!" She nods to Roland as he comes over. Just when she requires someone to point to, it seems. "Blue, right? This is Doctor Andromeda True. One of our Medical professionals from the Areion."

Crabby squawks out, "Frak!"

There's a bit of wincing on McQueen's part as the mic squeals. "Bl —" Shaking his head, he shrugs and just tokes on his cigar some more. "Someone getting volunteered here?" He glances over at AWOL in a sidelong manner.

Andromeda sips her newly refilled drink, turning her attention to the stage. It's difficult to tell whether her faint grimace is for the liquor or in anticipation of the performance. Perhaps she's heard Dizzy sing before. She looks a little discomfitted as AWOL touches her shoulder, but doesn't flinch or shrug the gesture off. Clearing her throat a bit, she nods at Roland, "Nice to meet you." McQueen and his cigar are given a cautious, assessing glance. She takes a moment, reading his shirt, then asks him, "You're not?"

Wade chuckles softly and nods at AWOL "I do owe you that dance it seems, I'll pay it gladly." He smiles at the woman and then takes a refill, looking at it for a moment before downing it. Three shots for him, that's a record it seems. He looks at Andrea as she approaches him and smiles at her "Hey Hosedown, you made it" He nods to her and then says "Hosedown, I don't know if you had the chance to meet…." he turns to look at AWOL and he says "This is Lieutenant Allison Moran, AWOL. And Lieutenant Andromeda True, Medical Officer" He nods to Andromeda to check if he didn't make a mistake there "Allison, Andromeda…this is Lieutenant Andrea Demarcos, Hosedown"

Roland nods over to AWOL, before looking at the doctor, "Good to meet you Doc." He falls silent as Wade introduces Hosedown. He leans back at the bar again glancing around for the bottle he set down. He refills his glass, and with a quick look around for the bartender, sets the bottle in front of Wade and the others in the small group.

The dance music abruptly stops.

And then a cheesy keyboard riff comes over the bar's sound system.

That only heralds the horror that is about to come, for Dizzy honestly is tone-deaf. And enthusiastic.

"You got the touch!

You got the power!


In the background on a makeshift projection screen, flight footage of the Evocati kewing Cylons starts to play.

Hosedown gives nods around, glancing with a bit of surprise at the shot glasses near Wade. She smiles especially at Dizzy, and gives Roland another friendly nod. The film of the Evocati kewing Cylons recieves a smile, though more in a critical air. "They should show footage of us tagging that heavy, Drips. That was awesome." She then looks at the rest of the group, arms wide. "So, what have I missed? Anyone jump on the pole yet?"

Sawyer arrives from the Elpis Corridor.

"Hm?" comes the query from Evan as he's supping down his next bout of the flowing liquor, with a hint more fortitude than he managed the first one. After a cough and a squint, "I'll keep a spot on my card free," he promises, then settles in to watch the show, moving an elbow to playfully nudge at Hosedown. "I think it's meant to be the birthday girl, hon," he grins at her.

"Mmm. Can't say I really can complain about the choice of entertainment." McQueen notes with a bright flash of his teeth. Reaching over towards the footage of the Raider-killin'. "Visual entertainment that is." Maybe somebody is a music critic. "And no, doc, I'm not an undercover agent. Seriously. Ask me about my offworld account." He waggles a brow at Andromeda.

AWOL smiles at McQueen. "Unless you don't need volunteering, of course. Hosedown, Allison Moran. Callsign a AWOL. I think I've seen you around the berths while we Spectres have been bunking there, but I haven't said hello properly. A pleasure. Heavy?" She looks between Andrea and Wade. "Well, that sounds like a story. Dancing can wait a little. No one's taken to the pole yet, but the night *is* young." She elbows Andromeda lightly. As if to urge, 'Ask him about it!'

Kepner could never be called a wallflower, but he's more than content to sit back and let the jovial atmosphere occur around him. Soaking it up, drinking his wine, actually looking like he's enjoying himself. When the footage starts rolling, he raises his hands to clap enthusiastically. This, he approves of. Oh, yeah.

Malone remains near the door for now, leaning to the wall as he listens to the singing. Grimacing a bit to himself as he watches the crowd present for now, looking a bit lost in thought.

More tone-deaf 'singing' ensues…

"After all is said and done.

You've never walked, you've never run.

You're a WIN-NER!"

Drake punctuates the word by pointing at the audience in-beat. And she beams at the clapping Kepner, then shakes her booty while Fiasco takes the next verse.

Andromeda smiles at Hosedown, nodding to affirm that Wade did, indeed, get her name right. The opening synth for 'The Touch' makes her wince slightly. She glances at the stage, pained. "Oh, dear…" She coughs a little on a sip of scotch as AWOL elbows her, putting a hand demurely over her mouth. She flashes McQueen a faint, abashed grin and gamely inquires, "What about your offshore account?" There. She asked him about it. See?

Wade looks at Hosedown as she speaks and then looks at the screen again "Well, perhaps during the next party?" That of course, if said footage is released for that purpose. He smiles at the redhead and then shows another smile to AWOL. "Yes, dancing can wait a little but you are not getting away from it" Now, he chuckles and clears his throat "We took out a Heavy Raider not long ago…" he looks at Hosedown now "With how many shots?" He rubs his fingers over his chin, trying to remember and he says "The day with the storm, down in Tauron"

Fiasco grooves along with that terrible opener, but is clearly just warming up, and then provides the occasional, enthusiastic "Woo!" as back-up to Dizzy's first first. "You've got the moves!" he takes over, and thank the gods, he can actually sing, "You know the streets! Break the rules, take the heat! You're nobody's fooool!" He is also very loud, and very into it, and sings with Dizzy as they go on, his voice helping carry/cover her total lack of vocal ability.

"This is one of those moments where I'd flip a coin. But my hands are full so I guess I've been volun-/told/." McQueen notes cheerily. "So, yeah. Lt. Trevor McQueen. One o' the Black Knights ever since the bombs fell. I was in the right place at the right time I suppose, yeh?" His smile falters a little but it still remains. He lazily pulls the stogie out and stubs it out in the ashtray. "And the accounts don't officially exist. Really."

Andrea shakes her head. "Bastard was TOUGH, but I'm sure all the hits and return fire would make excellent video." She pulls out a voucher and slaps in on the bar, and soon has a drink in her hand… the shot goes down hard, and burns, but DAMN does it feel good.

"Oh my," AWOL mutters, shaking her head and laughing Fiasco and Dizzy. But it's a fond sort of laughter. Frequent eyerolls and dry quips aside, she's more amused by her fellow Spectres than she'd probably readily admit. "Well I, for one, would like to see it," she says to Wade and Andrea. McQueen earns a chuckle. "The military is built on a strong foundation of being volun-told. We just pretend otherwise sometimes." More of her wine is polished off, though she's still drinking at a far more leisurely pace than many of her shipmates. Spotting Malone, she raises a hand to wave to him. "Splash! So glad you could make it. Have a drink. Our commander brought proper wine."

As entertaining as the song is, Roland's attention is drawn to the tale of the Heavy Raider He moves closer to hear over the noise looking to each of the pilots as they describe the run.

Crabby squawks out, "Call the ball! Call the ball!"

Truly, Dizzy cannot sing. She can, however, dance and does so with great enthusiasm. Why, she can even hang upside down from the stripper pole while warbling out, "You got the touch! You got the POW-er! When all hell's breakin' loose… You'll be riding the eye of the storm!"

Malone pauses a bit as he hears someone calling out his name. Looking over, he offers a bit of a wave in return, before he pushes away from the wall, and heads over towards the group of people. "Proper wine?" he asks, looking a little amused. "What kind of proper wine would this be?"

Wade nods to AWOL and says "Certainly, the footage is available in our archives so we can take a look at it whenever you want" He smiles at this and then looks at Andrea, chuckling softly at how she downs that drink. Now, he takes a new glass with a bit of that delicious wine and he lifts it "To the Black Knights, for picking up us stray dogs…." He is talking mostly about himself and the others that were picked up after Warday. With that said, he downs his drink and then licks his lips for a moment "This is actually, pretty good." As for the singing, he is blocking it out to prevent ear damage.

AWOL mentions the wine, and Evan peers down at the glass that had moments before been full of nail polish remover. Wine sounds vastly preferable, especially as quickly as this stuff is working on his half-year-sober person. Oh, right. This is what tipsy feels like. And that needle's not exactly going to stop at tipsy. Evan settles down at one of the oddly placed tables, there to watch the presentation.

Marduk takes over most of the singing, but also joins in on the dancing end of things, dancing up on Dizzy as she pole before stepping away just far enough to rock out on the air guitar. He's pretty awesome at that as well. All in all it is a seriously epic karaoke performance, whether it is appreciated by the audience or not. It doesn't really feel like the performers are concerned about that so much as about having an awesome time, which they clearly are.

Roland grins at that, and raises his own glass, "The Knights." He empties his glass, and starts searching his pockets for a voucher.

Andromeda opens her mouth to speak, then decides that AWOL summed things up far more aptly. "That," she says to McQueen, pointing at AWOL. She glances up from her drink as he introduces himself, then offers, "You've… probably heard me introduced multiple times, by now." Her eyes go back to her drink. She takes a sip. "I've been with the Areion since the beginnig, as well. We're both… all… quite fortunate." She watches Dizzy on the pole a moment, brows drawn up a touch with worry, as though she's envisioning all the spinal problems that might result from a drunken pilot falling on her head. "No?" she glances back at McQueen as he claims the accounts don't exist. "I guess you won't be buying me a drink, then."

"Aerilon apple," AWOL says, plucking up the bottle. She'll pour both Malone and Evandreus a glass. "Commander Kepner is Aerilonian by birth. He has a taste for the stuff, though he's *very* stingy with his personal stock of it. It's quite an honor to Dizzy that he broke it out for the occasion." She raises her glass along with Roland. To make a toast. "To your Knights. And your…it's Harriers, right?" That to Evandreus. "We did not think we'd ever have mates from other squadrons to fly beside when we heard what happened to the colonies. We thought we were alone. And I, for one, have never been more grateful to be wrong."

Another voucher is slapped down, and another drink arrives for Hosedown. The redhead seems in the mood to catch up. "Yeah, to those who are willing to pick up strays, and to the strays who totally make it worthwhile for 'em. Uh, barring the occasional prank." Pranks just make life more fun, right? Yeah, that's right! Listening to AWOL, she nods. "He did seem a bit back home when I met him for that Triad Game. Good fella… brought a nice bottle of whiskey. 'Course, I lost mine." She tosses a glance Malone's way. "To that guy, as memory serves."

No spinal injuries tonight. Not yet, anyway. Fiasco wasn't kidding, though, when he announced that Dizzy is hella flexible. She seriously is. Even one of the off-duty strippers who is partaking of the free booze can't help but to peer.

Roland nods over to AWOL, and smiles slightly. He didn't expect anyone else to lift a glass. He leans over and slaps a voucher on the bar, waiting for a refill.

"Aerilon apple? Good stuff that," Malone offers with a bit of a nod, before he looks over in the direction of Hosedown, offering a bit of a grin, "Never trick a trickster," he remarks, lightly. Glancing between the others for now, before he looks over at the ones supplying the entertainment now.

"YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF /ME/ Sir!" McQueen starts with obvious feigned indignance towards AWOL. He reaches for his glass again and starts swirling its contents in a spiral. "Yeh. To the Knights. And - the Thunderheads. The Sunliners. The Eagles. The Kestrels. Gulls. Hawks. And last, but not least, the Jotun." His old squadron at Picon Anchorage for anyone who might have remembered. "Oh, and the Petrels." After taking a sip, he rather liberally dumps a stream of booze onto the floor. Presumably for his dead homies.

This done, he turns towards Andromeda. "I eavesdropped a couple o' those introductions, Doc. Anyway, charmed, and all that." His smirk is a bit more subdued after the makeshift eulogy. But it's there.

And Fiasco can totally shake his fine ass, as promised. Something for everyone, in this performance. He hits an impromptu high note as the music crescendoes to an end, and finishes the performance wailing on his air guitar and sliding on his knees to the end of the stage.

Evandreus' eyes are fixed up on the show, though, to be honest, he seems more to be looking than watching, his thoughts curling up in the inner recesses of his brain, there to be swaddled in an almost comatose self-inspection. His eyes focus again once a fresh glass enters his vicinity, veiled in dark lashes as he looks to the wine that seems to have magically showed up, before the veil lifts and his eyebeams follow the arm up to AWOL herself. He takes the glass with a rosy smile. "Harriers. That's us. Bothersome bunch, we are," he jokes, smile blossoming into a grin. He takes a sip of the wine and then draws back to the side of the chair when Fiasco goes sliding, as if uncertain whether the pilot would actually stop at the edge of the stage or come flying off of it. When he sticks the ending, Evan gives a cackle of approval, and takes another sip of the wine, settling into the seat once more. "It's -really- good, actually." And he has every intention of making it last a while.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAY!" Dizzy cheers, flipping off the pole and managing to land her dismount, albeit more wobbly than were she sober. And then she's clapping and whistling for Fiasco and his big finale. For her part, she bounces up and down and does the occasional line kick of someone incredibly limber.

Wade actually pours another one and then points a finger at McQueen "Exactly." He nods in agreement and then adds "And, to the Horsemen, the best damn Squadron that the Chimaera ever had." Because he knows what happened to that Battlestar. The good thing about not drinking is that you collect a lot of vouchers. Wade takes a sip from his drink but this time, he doesn't down it right there, he nurses it a little. He looks at the stage now and then nods, adding "Well, it seems that they are done" He smiles at this.

Andromeda says, "So say we all," Andromeda faintly underscores the long list of the lost. She drinks again, watching the alochol spill on the ground with a spate of blinking, perhaps unfamiliar with the custom. Another glance at McQueen, as though to be sure he's not on the verge of toppling over. There's a soft, hissing wince as Fiasco slides across the stage for his grand finale. "Oh, gods, his knees," she mutters, putting a hand over her eyes. It's as though, to the good doctor, the entire population of Areion were a fine automobile — and tonight, she's watching it be taken on a perilous joy ride."

"So say we all," Andromeda faintly underscores the long list of the lost. She drinks again, watching the alochol spill on the ground with a spate of blinking, perhaps unfamiliar with the custom. Another glance at McQueen, as though to be sure he's not on the verge of toppling over. There's a soft, hissing wince as Fiasco slides across the stage for his grand finale. "Oh, gods, his knees," she mutters, putting a hand over her eyes. It's as though, to the good doctor, the entire population of Areion were a fine automobile — and tonight, she's watching it be taken on a perilous joy ride.

AWOL pours herself another drink from the wine bottle, while she's got it up and pouring. As McQueen's addition requires another toast. She raises her glass, sharing a look with Wade, expression now far more somber than it was a moment ago. "To our fallen comrades." She drinks long and deep for that. Blinking rather rapidly, fixing her eyes back to the merriment on the stage. It *does* make her smile. Fiasco and Dizzy are nothing if not excellent for a laugh.

"You may as well drink heavily, Doc, or your nerves will kill you." Andrea laughs as she takes another tot on her glass, and then whoops… whether to celebrate the song or its ending is left to interpretation. She catches the toast to those lost and echoes it… drink gone. Hmmm. With a sigh, she slaps down a voucher… and then hops up onto the stage, walking over to Dizzy. "How about a dance, birthday girl?"

Roland picks up his drink, and falls silent. The lack of music makes the din easier to take, as he leans back against the bar, and watches. He lifts his glass to drink watching the comings and goings at the bar.

Getting that glass, Malone looks around for a few moments. Pausing a bit at the mention of the fallen. "To our fallen comrades, far more than we had to lose…" he offers, taking a good sip from the glass.

Crabby dances side to side and squawks out, "I shot the Sheriff …"

"WOOOOOOOOOO! WOO!" Fiasco caps off the performance, hopping nimbly to his feet and then, perhaps to give Andromeda a heart attack, does a back flip off the end of the stage. "THANK YOU, COLONIAL PETE'S! WOOO! And Dizzy, the lovely, limber birthday girl! Give it up everybody!" He cheers and claps around the mic before blinking at Andrea hops up on stage and then whoops again, "Oh yeah! Show us what you got, girls!" he says, jogging over to hit the music again, back to something that's dance-y and strip-able. That accomplished, he heads back up to the bar, wiping his face on his absurd shirt and shouting, "Booze! AWOL! True! Somebody! I need a drink."

Evandreus leans forward and stands, slowly but steadily, turning back toward the bar in time to catch the ends of the toasts, expression growing grave even if his cheeks keep coloring nicely. He doesn't say anything. He tries, once, but ends up just sort of coughing over a lump in his throat, then trying to wash it down with a sip of the apple wine.

Flushed, maybe, but seemingly rather sober beyond that, McQueen just shrugs his shoulders a little. "And the Horsemen. And yah, we can rattle off this list all day and night. Not counting some schoolteacher on Picon or something who probably deserved a toast, too. It's —" The speech falls flat as he glances towards AWOL and then Roland, Wade, Evan, and the rest before Andromeda, giving the Doc a friendly clap on the shoulder. "He's somethin, isn't he?" He smirks at her. "Hope you don't have to run a patch job on him before the night's over."

Wade looks at McQueen for a moment and shrugs casually "Whatever it takes, McQueen…whatever it takes" He claps his hands after the show offered by Dizzy and Fiasco and then looks at how Andrea jumps on stage. He chuckles with amusement and shakes his head, using another voucher to get yet another drink. For his part? He is just a liiiiiitle tipsy; after all, he doesn't really drink. He catches AWOL's look of course and he nods to her, smiling softly, just a little. Now, with the change of music, he lifts his gaze to look around the place and then looks back at the group, taking a sip from his new drink.

"He is… something," Andromeda agrees with McQueen, her smile wry and delicately pained. "Gods, I hope not. But eventually, probably. Especially if he keeps doing that to his knees, I see reconstructive surgery in his future." Then Marduk's arrived, calling for booze, and she glances at her mostly full scotch before simply handing it to him. "You should be kinder to your joints. Torn menisci are no joke." She reaches into her pocket for another voucher, apparently taking AWOL's advice to heart.

"Hold on, hold on!" AWOL laughs, glad to have the distraction of fixing Fiasco a drink. A proper shot. She apparently believes he'd prefer it to wine. "My word, Marduk! I think you missed your true calling a…performance artist." Whatever somberness she just felt, she's now making a proper effort to drink it away. An encouraging nod to Andromeda. That's the spirit!

Marduk finds himself with scotch in one hand and a shot in the other, both put there by pretty girls, and beams, "GUYS. BEST PARTY EVER. WOO!" He knocks back the shot and chases it with scotch, giving his head a brisk shake that dislodges and musses his hair but somehow doesn't make it look any less awesome. "Thank you Alliegator," he gives AWOL a hug, "And you, Andietrue," he leans over and gives Andromeda a loud kiss on the cheek, "My joints are allll good. Well lubricated," he winks.

"Believe what the good doctor says," Malone offers towards Marduk. "Lots of nasty knee injuries you can get. Trust me." He takes another sip from his drink, before he grins, "Although I've been lucky and only had one."

"Only until we have yours, Dimples!" Drake exclaims, bounding to hop on Fiasco's back like a little kid. "Refill!" she sing-songs, the arm not around his neck now holding out her empty glass.

Roland chuckles, and shakes his head, watching the piggyback ride. He lifts his glass to drink, and turns back towards the bar, setting the half empty glass down on its top.

Meanwhile, McQueen makes his drink disappear, using the oldest and most direct of magic tricks. Swills the glass and sets it down on the bar. /After/ lifting it towards Marduk. "Listen to the doc, yeh? I would. Even if she's neglecting her duties, here." He points a weathered finger straight at the woman's scotch glass. "Oi! Top it off, please."

"Dizzy!" Fiasco sounds put out, "What're you doing? You're supposed to be up on stage dancing with that other hot girl! Go! Entertain us! Make out, take your top off, whatever, it's your birthday! No judgment!" He tops up her drink and then peels her off.

Andromeda flinches as her cheek is kissed, looking startled, paling and blushing in rapid succession. She rubs at her cheek, much like someone who just got licked by an enthusiastic puppy… and doesn't particularly like dogs. "Uhm," she mumbles in response to the thanks. "Right." She nods at the bartender and joins McQueen in pointing at her now-empty glass. "Please?" At being accused of neglecting her duties, she snrrks, mirth tugging her lips in one wry direction. "Neglecting my — am I not being enough of a — uhm — a buzzkill? I can try harder."

"Wait? What?" Blink-blink. "Hot girl?" Dizzy's head turns this way and that. "Where?" Mmmm. More booze. "Oh! Hey!" Andrea spotted, the redhead gets a wave, and then the blonde is groovin' on over.

Wade laughs amusedly when Fiasco and Dizzy get back to the group but then nods about what Fiasco said about the dancing and the potential tops off. But he doesn't /voice/ it. He leans his back against the bar and looks at his glass for a moment; after a few seconds of deep deep thought, he downs the glass and asks for another one "One more please!" Is there something to eat around this place? He looks around for that and finds what seems to be, peanuts. Or at least he hopes they are peanuts. Regardless, he takes some and puts one in his mouth, slowly munching on it to better study the situation.

Andrea crosses her arms under her breasts, and taps one of her booted-heeled feet, but then she smiles. "And here I thought maybe you were too drunk to see me. Bash to the old ego, that." Then she steps forward and snogs the blonde before laughing to herself and pulling the leather jacket off, throwing it to Wade. Maybe it'll land on his head, either way, he'll PROBABLY think to keep it out of puddles. "Let's dance," she says with a cheshire grin.

Crabby dances side to side and squawks out, "I shot the Sheriff …"

Evandreus is not going to drown the glums in the good wine. For that, there are vouchers, and plenty of the house brew to be had— strong enough to eat through decking, a lump in a throat is no match for it, especially taken all in one go. His face breaks into a laugh aimed down at the wineglass still in his hand post-shot when Dizzy gets re-directed back up on stage. "She just needed a refuel after that first performance. You know you're really very talented." That's for Fiasco.

Malone takes another sip from his drink, glancing over in the direction of Wade munching those peanut things. "Careful, you don't know where that's been…" he offers, before he looks up to the stage and the ones there. "Oh dear…" he remarks, with a bit of a chuckle.

Roland hears the comments, and turns just in time to see the jacket land near Wade. He blinks a bit in surprise, and looks up toward the stage. His eyes widen for a moment, as he lifts his glass to drink.

Drake gets snogged. What the hell. Might as well be friendly, so she smooches back. Sorry, boys. No tongue. And then she giggles and drinks more, shaking her rump behind Andrea. "Uncle Rudy!" she calls out. "Come dance with us!"

AWOL hugs Fiasco back, if a little more stiffly than her fellow Spectre. She'll never be as loose as him, alcohol or no alcohol. But she does look like she's enjoying herself. "Dizzy is our perpetual motion machine. Where do you think she got her callsign? Watching her fly makes one's head spin." Dry as the words are, they are a genuine compliment. "Oh my!" Exclaimed at Andrea and Drake but, again, accompanied by a laugh.

Wade looks at Malone and then at the peanuts. "Heck, at this point…" he shakes his head and chuckles, getting one more. Yep, they are peanuts alright. He takes his new glass of weird drink stuff and when he is about to take it to his lips, Andrea's jacket hits him. He doesn't drop the glass but it is certain that some of the drink spills all over that jacket. Sorry Andrea. :( "What the frak!" says the man looking up and around, spotting Andrea without the leather jacket, and said jacket over his lap now. "Bad luck, bad luck…" Yeah, that can ruin the leather so he takes a napkin or something around that nature and dries it off….at least as best as he can. He spots the snogging now and he peers up, laughing softly.

Marduk laughs as Andromeda wipes her cheek, taking another sip of her scotch as she and McQueen call for refills. He turns to look at the stage again as that jacket flies past his head and onto Wade's, cheering loudly for Dizzy and Andrea and that kiss before turning back to the group. "Thanks!" he grins at Evan, "It's a gift, y'know?" He winks, laughing and takes another drink before looking around at the assembled group of pilots. "So how come none of you all are dancing, huh?" He demands, "Come on, guys! Refills all around and then let's move this party out to the floor! You can talk and dance at the same time, I promise, it'll be awesome. Come on, everybody up!"

"Always, always put everything into what you're good at, Doc." McQueen hangs back by the bar as he lifts his next glass in Andromeda's direction. "Even if some people think it isn't very nice." His mouth quivers a little as he fights off a smile, reaching for his still-burning stogie and taking another puff, exhaling a blue cloud of smoke. "Looks like you're puttin' in the effort." His head whips about towards Fiasco as the smirk widens a bit.

Andrea falls into the dance as well, laughing and grinding against Dizzy as the catcalls get started. "Hey, he trying to get people to look at not us?" She asks, glancing at Marduk, but then shrugs and turns so the pair of them start backing up into the pole. Hmmm, maybe could use that, later.

Malone shakes his head a bit as he watches the things happening with Andrea and Drake. "Someone should have brought a camera…" he remarks, before he looks to AWOL, "Let's hope it makes the Cylons spin as well," he offers, before he looks over at Marduk, "Not drunk enough yet," he remarks, a bit lightly.

Kepner has been just nursing his wine and enjoying the ambiance. With almost the eye of a careful observer more than a partygoer. The interaction between the Cerberus crew and his own Areion personnel gets an approving nod here and there. Camaraderie is camaraderie. In whatever form it takes. "I think I'd break your rhythm, Drake my girl," he calls. "I can't stay much longer. All." He stands, voice projecting again. "I thank you for letting me share in your festivities, and for showing my Captain Drake such a fine time. We should take all the good times we can get while we've still got time to get them."

A rank amateur at banter, Andromeda doesn't look as though she knows how to take McQueen's comment. She takes a good swallow her her drink, hiding her blush, and mumbles, "It's a gift…" taking a cue from Fiasco. There's a visible flicker of apprehension as the groups cajoled to the dance floor, and she winds her long legs around the barstool, effectively becoming one with the bolted-down seating. "Not a chance. Someone has to remain in one piece while the rest of you injure yourselves." Wet blankets — she haz them.

Roland chuckles as the pair dances toward the pole. He glances over Kepner stands up, listening as the man speaks.

For his part, Wade finishes that next drink and sets Andrea's jacket on the seat he was just occupying. He looks at AWOL and shows her a bright smile "So, about that dance" And with that, he extends his hand towards her to see if she accepts the offer. For a moment, he looks at Dizzy and Andrea but his attention returns to AWOL right away, after all, he is inviting her.

No matter how much Evan's been coddling and wipping at that wine, it doensn't last much longer, the sweet drink gone long before the Bunny would have wanted it to be. He holds up his hand to the next round of drinks, wanting to keep the sweet flavor from being washed away in another flood of hard shine. And that's already four drinks into him; he'd probably better leave off and see where this gets him before he ventures any further into the realms of intoxication. As Malone and True beg off of the dancing, he gives a bright laugh and steps off from the bar, holding a hand out toward Fiasco with a slanted grin of invitation. Girls dancing with girls invites boys dancing with boys, doesn't it?

"I have a gift too - always cause the maximum amount of damage possible without permanently breaking anything. I dunno if that's got a more handy summary." McQueen observes wryly. "Watch." He sets the stogie down and works gingerly at stubbing it out as he too leans back against the bar, cupping a hand to his mouth. "DOOOO IIIIIT DRIIIIIIIIPS!" He yells, rather tactlessly.

Uncle Rudy is leaving? Say it ain't so! Poor Dizzy looks crestfallen. Quickly, though, she bounces back and smiles, skittering Commanderwards to say, "Thank you for coming out, sir." Not a hug, this time, but she does rest a hand on his forearm. Truly, she is deeply moved that he attended. "And thank you for the gift."

"So say we all, sir," Malone calls out in Kepner's direction, before he drains the last of his wine, looking around for a few moments, looking to the bartender to order himself something more to drink now.

"Aww, come on!" Fiasco pouts at the reluctant members of the group (which is… pretty much everyone), "Come onnn! It'll be fun! I promise! I buy you all a round?" He waves a handful of vouchers temptingly as he backs away towards the dance floor. Evan gets a thump on the shoulder for his agreement, "Yeah, dude! C'mon, let's go join the girls on stage if this lot's gonna be LAME LIKE THAT." He sticks his tongue out at them and empties the drink in one hand, snatching another off a table as he passes (whose was that, anyway?) and leading the way back up to the stage.

Kepner claps Drake on the shoulder, beaming at her. "Wouldn't have missed this for the worlds, my girl. Enjoy the wine." And with that, off he goes.

Andromeda glances at McQueen, puzzled. "That's an interesting gift. Do you exert it… strictly upon yourself, or are others also the recipients of your talents?" She grimaces at the shouting, drinking again. "At least the alcohol consumption seems to be staying within reasonable levels. No one's likely to end up poisoned." She does watch the dancing with interest, enjoying it — perhaps — as one does ballet. She's not about to get en pointe herself, but she can certainly appreciate it.

AWOL focuses briefly on McQueen. Who earns an expressive eyeroll. She *is* shipmates with Fiasco and Dizzy, after all. That particular expression is probably very, very practiced. Though to Wade, she turns to him and smiles. Taking his arm. "Certainly. I was waiting for you to ask." She'll take to the floor with him, on that note.

Crabby squawks out, "Yo mama …."

Oh, mighty Zeus shines upon her. Yes, Drake beams right back at Kepner. Then, in a total show of respect, she stands at attention and replies, "Yes, sir!" Provided there is any wine left. And as the Commander departs, that bright smile grows dimmer or more sad, as though the sky has turned overcast in the absence of the sun's — well, Rudolph Kepner's — radiance.

Before AWOL's reaction to his question, he does get to hear McQueen. He turns to him and points two fingers at him "Thanks, you are awesome." One thumbs up and he chuckles amusedly. His attention turns back to AWOL and he places his hand on top of her own when she takes his arm. This only done for a few seconds as he guides her to the dance floor. "Wouldn't miss this opportunity for anything" says the man to her and now, time to dance. Now, as for what dances go, since it seems it's something upbeat, he does the regular clubbing type of dance. However, he does place his hands on AWOL's hips from time to time, maybe guiding her, spinning her around, etc. Yup, dance moves! He is not the most awesome dancer of course but he is alright.

Evandreus has apple wine staining his tongue and the harder booze staining his mind, making him full-on giggle, with just a hint of an explosive snort right at the beginning as the others are accused of lameness. He doesn't agree, in particular, but something about the accusation itself tickles him, and he's still standing there being tickled by it when Fiasco starts up for the stage, only finding out that they're moving as his arm goes taut and he stumble-skips a step to catch up. He hadn't ever meant to be performing on stage, but he'll go with it.

"Oh, uh, see for /yourself/, Doc." McQueen's all grins here as he pushes the ashtray with the spent cigar aside. "In this case I think it's relatively frakkin' benign. As far as drinking's concerned, what are you talking about? I'm high on /life/." Watching Wade and AWOL a moment longer he turns back to Andromeda. "Anyway, no harm done, right? I save that for the Cylons."

McQueen simply punctuates the statement with a slight wink in Wade's direction. Nothing more is said.

Andrea sighs. Well, it was sorta like Papa leaving the party. Walking over to the stage, Andrea grabs the drink from her earlier voucher and downs it in one. She then spots her jacket and considers.

Amused and abashed, Andromeda shakes her head a little, lashes lowering. "I think… I should probably be careful. Who'll repair me if your bite's worse than your bark?" She rests her chin in her hand, glancing at the dancers again. "There must be something terribly satisfying about that," she muses. "I feel… what I do is of use. I keep our swords sharp and strong and true. But to be the blade that actually strikes the blow…" she sighs faintly, wistfully. "How terribly, savagely satisfying."

"Must be one hell of a life," Malone remarks as he overhears McQueen's words. "Seems to work like a true narcotic, doesn't it?" He then looks over at Andromeda, "Don't worry, Doc. We've got a few skilled medicals that we can call in. Trust me on that one." Taking a sip from his drink, as he looks over at Andrea. "That's fast drinking…" he remarks.

AWOL mouths 'Go for it' at Andromeda over her shoulder, with a little head-nudge toward McQueen, as she goes to dance with Wade. Close to him, spinning lightly when he turns her. She's not as acrobatic a dancer as Dizzy, but she'd fade into most clubs in the Caprica City of yesteryear without embarrassment.

With a small frown, Dizzy downs the rest of her drink. Nothing like booze to improve one's mood. Well, unless one is a sad or angry drunk. Lana appears to be neither. "CARRIER LANDINGS!" Because nothing like sliding across a bar while inebriated will chase away the blues.

Roland shakes his head once, as he hears the Carrier Landing call. He reaches back to the bar to pick up his drink, and pushes away from it, moving towards one of the tables if he can find one open. He glances back over his shoulder to see if the intrepid pilot has started her run.

Just climbing up onto the stage, Fiasco hears Dizzy's suggestion and joins in, changing plans on a dime and shouting with her, "CARRIER LANDINGS!" He jumps back down and surveys the options quickly, looking from Drake to Evan to whoever else might be paying attention and having an opinion, "Where should we do them? Stage? Bar?"

"Bark? I don't understand. I'm /all/ bark, Doc." Trevor declares smoothly. "Well, except in live fire situations. I like to think of myself as a tactically deployed projectile. I'm like some kind of old Tauron mobster's brick thrown through a bloody shopkeeper's window. I'm like —- " He rattles on. "See what I mean about 'bark'?" His thick brows knit. He didn't catch AWOL's signal. Or maybe he did. "Wait. What are we talkin' bout again?" He shoots her a smirk and then opens his mouth to say something else — when Dizzy's yell catches him offguard. As 'Carrier Landings' is echoed, he picks up his drink and raises the glass to Andromeda. "So, uh, from one wet blanket to another. /Cheers/."

"Ugh," is Evan's only comment to the ringing call for carrier landings that interrupt the prospect of dancing. Dancing being a perfectly pleasant pastime, carrier landings, on the other hand, are mostly associated with grievous bodily harm in the Bunny's mind, and, as such, he just sits his butt down on the edge of the stage, looking momentarily surly.

Wade smiles at AWOL whenever they make eye contact on that dance, he spots that she looked at Andromeda over her shoulder and chuckles softly, leaning forward to whisper something on AWOL's ear. He lets the music do a lot of the work, like he has been usually doing during clubbing nights. Hands keep moving on and off of AWOL's hips to guide her around the dance floor. It does seem that a lot of people is breaking the ice and joining the dance floor. That's /good/. As for the Carrier landings, he over hears the calls for that and shakes his head "That should be interesting" says the man now.

Malone shakes his head a bit as he hears the mention of the carrier landings. "Try to do it in the least expensive way?" he calls out, grabbing hold of his drink, and stepping back a bit now.

"Ooh! I've never done them on a stage before. It's kinda wide, though…" Like a good Viper jock, Captain Lana Drake takes carrier landings very seriously. "Why not both? To tradition and to trying something new!"

AWOL also does not rush to join the fun and prospect of bodily harm that is Carrier Landings. "At least the doctor is right there," she quips, dancing a little closer to Wade. As she spins, she catches sight of Evandreus on the stage. Well, that just won't do. "Bunny! Come here! You owe me a dance, too!" She spins closer to she can extend and arm to him, offering to turn her floor coupling into a threesome.

Andrea looks up at Malone with a grin. "It is fast drinking, isn't it?" Walking over to him, she gives a grin. "Gonna ask a girl to dance, or do I need to just take the stick myself?"

Crabby squawks out, "Alert Stations! Alert Stations!"

Shoulders shaking with mirth as McQueen barks and barks and barks, Andromeda just nods along. She's pretty flushed — but this is like her third scotch. She's probably well on her way to feeling no pain. Then — carrier landings? "Oh, dear," she sighs. "Maybe I should stop drinking, in case I do actually need to set a bone." The contents of her glass are eyed, mused over, then raised to join McQueen in the proposed toast. "Cheers," she echoes. It may be by chance, or by some nefarious design, that she waits until he has his mouth full to state, matter-of-factly, "Lieutenant Moran seems to be of the opinion that we should have sex."

Roland finds a table with a good view, and pulls out a chair, leaning back to prop his feet up on the top of the table. He lifts his glass up to check the fuel level, and settle back to watch the rest of the show.

Wade repositions himself, giving some space for Bunny should he wish to join the dancing. He chuckles softly at AWOLs comments and the nods in acceptance, agreeing with whatever was said. "True enough, and if I understand correctly, the Medical facilities are close by, so that works I would say."

There's a brief pause as he hears Andrea's words, and then Malone offers a bit of a smile. "One moment…" Finishing his drink, quickly, he places the empty glass on the nearest table. "Well then, care to dance?" he offers, a bit lightly.

Timing is everything. There's a bit of a spray of whiskey on the floor as McQueen's mouth opens slightly and twists into a mirthful laugh, first the genesis of a smirk before blooming into a full-blown grin. "Wait. Her? AWOL?" He in fact points at the same AWOL. "As in, /your/ AWOL? She just flat-out pimped me out, didn't she?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Andrea says with a smile as she grabs Malone's hand and leads him out onto the floor. "You as good on the dance floor as you are at the Triad table?"

Andromeda laughs aloud as McQueen spit-takes, putting a hand quickly over her mouth, as though startled at her own outburst. She smirks back, however, at his follow up, retorting, "Maybe she was pimping me out." Hrmph. Being the 'client' in this little transaction does seem to imply being the one in need, after all. Flushing a shade deeper, she drains the rest of her glass. "Regardless."

Evandreus rubs at an eye and then tosses a slanted smile toward AWOL and Wade, not able to stay grumpy for long at this level of blood alcohol. He uncrosses his legs and puts a hand to either side of him on the stage. Up, Evan. The opposite of down. That's the way.

"Hey, Gabe babe," Dizzy tells Fiasco, "Looks like I left the cord on the Raptor. Get everything set up and I'll be back A-Sap." And then she's off.

AWOL whispers something to Wade. Though, when he whispers something else back, it's not immediately answers. She just smiles at the Viper pilot. A little sadly, perhaps, but whatever it is she's not going to dwell on it now. She takes Evandreus' hand and hefts herself onto the stage. She'll groove between the pair of him and Wade until this particular dance is done.

"I don't think I'm that good a dancer, really." Malone offers this a bit thoughtfully, before he adds, "I mean, my mother had me learning it back when I was young, but I think much of that's been forgotten since then." Letting himself be led out onto the floor now.

Andrea chuckles as they start dancing, and leans in to whisper in Malone's ear. "Splash, I'm drinking like to drown myself, just kissed bizarro Bubbles on stage, and am already missing a bit of my clothing. Just play it smooth, would ya?"

"Mmmmhmmm. Trust me, whatever the case, she was thinkin' less of me in the exchange. It's how pilots are." McQueen's managed to retain his amusement in light of the whole conversation, he too steals a glance at the pilots out on the floor before glancing back to the Good Doctor. "You can be bloody sure I won't leave Drips alone in the berths. This /is/ how rumors get started, after all." And the twinkle in his pale eye indicates he lives for this sort of thing. "Still."

Crabby squawks out, "Alert Stations! Alert Stations!"

Roland considers his current situation, and after proper reflection, drops one foot to the table, and crosses tht other over it. Much better. He lets out a long breath, and is about to drink from his glass when he hears the parrot again. He arches an eyebrow, and judges the distance to the bird, and the weight of said glass.

It's hard to say how long Sawyer's been here as she's terribly good at being the casual observer. Hugging the bar, she's occupying a seat that she hasn't really moved from all night. The only one the journalist has spoken to is the bartender, though she's kept a careful eye on the festivities as if having some vested interest in the goings-on.

Wade smiles at AWOL and continues to dance with her, taking her hand to guide her into a turn. He looks at Bunny and nods to the man "Come over Bunnyboy" invites the Viper pilot. The music keeps a steady beat it seems and it's been a while since Wade went clubbing so, soon, it starts to wear him down, but he doesn't stop damn it!

"If we didn't have rumors, what would we talk about?" muses Andromeda, crunching an ice cube. "The past is dark and painful. The future uncertain, possibly doomed. There's only now. A now which is vastly more entertaining when rife with speculation about who's doing what to whom." She tilts her head, watching Wade and AWOL speculatively. "Your medical staff checks everyone regularly for STIs, of course," she reassures herself. Can't have her evocati down with the clap.

Malone nods a little bit as he hears that. "Sounds like you're really enjoying the party," he offers, a bit lightly. Glancing around once in a while at the various others present, then back to the woman he's dancing with.

"Any excuse to party, yeah? And I haven't had a drink in forever." Andrea smiles as she dances with him, being fairly flirty as she does so. "Tomorrow its back to CAPS and status reports. Time to enjoy today for all its worth…"

"There've been a few stories about our doctors. I tend to stay the Hell out of medical for any number of reasons." McQueen states flatly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and muffling a cough. "I dunno. I kinda think the future is bright for reasons that would take too long to explain in this — delightful establishment." He smirks again, but it is subdued. It has a bit of gravity to it.

Evandreus gets his legs underneath him properly and heads out to the dance floor proper, looking as though he's about to walk straight past the other pair of folk before he hooks a hand on Wade's hip and pitches his trajectory about to come up behind him, wrapping an arm around his midsection. He's an easier target than the twirling AWOL. For his part, his knees are loose and he rolls to the music, balls of his feet pivoting a little on the dance floor as he does so. He dances like the Leontinian he purports to be— close and heated, looking over Wade's shoulder to grin at AWOL.

"I don't take your aversion to my brethren personally," Andromeda replies blithely, her attention mostly focused on fishing an ice cube from her glass with her fingers. She leans her cheek into her palm, elbow propped on the bar. "You've found a pocket somewhere in the fleet where time moves more swiftly?" she lifts her eyebrows, popping the ice cube into her mouth. "Or where ideas are communicated with greater lucidity?" There's scotch water on her fingertips now, and she places them in her mouth one at a time. "I think… I might be interested to know what you think," she adds, after a moment of consideration. "But you realize, of course, there would be rumors."

There's a shine to Sawyer's eyes and a smile on her face as she watches Evan get a little down and dirty with the other two on the dance floor. She cants her head backwards, mutterinng something to the bartender and her drink is quickly refreshed.

"Good point, good point," Malone offers, before he adds, "I guess there are some of us that… I don't know…" A brief pause, "Maybe lifes life too much like it was before the Cylons attacked. Too much seriousness, not managing to get enough fun into life." Does he include himself there? Possibly. A smile follows, though. "Enjoying today for all it's worth sounds like a good thing to do."

"That's the way. I've been too damned serious myself, lately. Been trying to be something I'm not. S'ok," She leans in and kisses him. "I'm over it."

Wade /is/ a little drunk, granted. However, he does notice Evan's hand and then, Evan's around around his midsection. He looks down at said arm and then looks back at AWOL, chuckling at her. "Glad you are relaxing a little Bunny" says the man, looking over his shoulder and then back at AWOL now. Also, he notices Sawyer and he extends a hand at her as if saying 'Hello!' But for a while, he keeps dancing.

"Hey. All in all, I'm fine with the rumors." McQueen shrugs matter-of-factly. "And I'd like that." He leans back against the bar, arms spread out and slumping a little in a quite un-military pose. His grin is wolfish. "But, I can give a brief summary. The universe goes on. No matter whan humanity or the Cylon's dumb arses do - we can't destroy everything. Maybe we'll write ourselves out of history. I don't think so, though. I think there's more to this. Maybe even a reason we're still here, yeh?"

Crabby squawks out, "Keep the frakkin jarheads out!"

AWOL can't help but chuckle at Evandreus and Wade both. "It has been *far* too long since I went to those clubs." She keeps dancing a little longer, but as she song winds down she steps off the stage. Stretching. Collapsing on a bar stool and having another drink or two to wind down the evening is quite inviting just now. "Thanks awfully, both of you. If I haven't said it before, you Regulars are *quite* fun to go to a party with."

Sawyer raises her glass to Wade to return the greeting, but then it seems she's turning to settle up with the bartender. Voucher is offered and then the blonde is slipping off her stool and threading into the crowd to disappear out the hatch.

Evandreus doesn't seem to believe in spinning his partner. Or in letting much air get in between him and his partner, evidently. He nestles his face into the back of Wade's neck and just sort of moves with him as long as the musics keep thudding along, marking the time. "Mhm," is all that's audible in reply to Wade's comment, but then the dancing's ending, and he looks up, drunken-eyed, and grins at the AWOL. "Hey, sure, dude. This was. Hey, Soybean," he's distracted away from whatever it was he was about to say, and he shuffles off in pursuit.

Malone pauses for a few moments as he's kissed, and returns the kiss, before offering a bit of a smile. "Most of the time, everybody tries to be what they're not," he says, a bit thoughtfully. "The truly admirable thing is when people manages to be themselves, good and bad…"

Evandreus leaves, heading towards the Elpis Corridor [Corridor].

"I'll keep in mind you told me that," Andrea says with a small laugh. "Maybe your encouragement will keep you safe from the next prank. Meantime…" another kiss. "You are being entirely to gentleman like with those hands…"

Andromeda chuckles, taking another sip from her glass. It's water, now, mostly. But it's something to do with her hands. "A very brief summary," she agrees, smiling faintly, "of a surprisingly romantic viewpoint." She sets her glass down and closes her eyes, giving her head a bit of a shake. One eye cautiously checks to see if the room's spinning, after. She looks a touch pensive, so perhaps it is. "I should probably…" she trails off, climbing down from the barstool and trying her lang legs, gingerly. "I'm often on Cerberus these days, you know," she says to McQueen. "There's a… thing." She'd explain it, but there's math involved. And she's so not doing math right now. "Anyways. In sickbay. Most days." She nods at him, then turns and spies AWOL, pausing to shake her finger at the evocati pilot before wandering off. To the head or her bunk or elsewhere, it's not clear. But she doesn't return.

Whoa! That's what Wade would exclaim when Evan nestles his face against the back of his neck. However, he doesn't this time but move sliiiightly away. Anyway, when AWOL moves back to the bar, he follows her as well. On the way to the bar, he spots Andrea and Malone kissing and as he walks past them "Kids" But it's more of a greeting actually. When he reaches AWOL, he smiles and offers to her "Thank you AWOL, and see you later?" his smile carries a little more and then takes a deep breath. The man takes another drink and sips from it, rubbing his eyes afterwards. "Gonna go crash a little now" With that said, he leans in, placing a soft kiss over AWOLs cheek and then he turns around.

AWOL is not precisely surprised, nor displeased, at the kiss. She offers Wade a slight, parting smile. "Later, then," she says simply.

"Hmmm. A-hey. I suppose I'll have to get over my aversion to sickbay." McQueen observes, smoothly. He doesn't elaborate on his views or predictions, merely watches the doctor from the Areion wander off, waving a simple, open-handed wave while looking characteristically bemused. "Maybe I have to re-evaluate these people." He finally observes, to nobody in particular.

After she leaves, he cranes his head to one side and spies AWOL and Wade, giving them a petulant, wrinkled-nosed grin. Another drink ticket is forked over and another drink is accquired as he downs his. Apparently he's been saving them up.

"Just save me from being the one being pranked, hmmm?" Malone offers, a bit lightly. Then there's another kiss, and he pulls Andrea a bit closer, kissing her back. Wade's single word gets a look in his direction, but no verbal reply right now.

Crabby squawks out, "Keep the frakkin jarheads out!"

"No promises. You're best bet is to keep me busy until I forget about my nefarious schemes…" Andrea says between the kisses. She then looks at Malone. "Looks like the party is dying down… want to head somewhere else?"

"I'll keep that in mind, then," Malone offers, before he glances around and nods, "Sounds like a plan."

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