2237-04-18 - Getting to Know People, Awkward Style

Feathers are ruffled, laughs are had, and sometimes - it's better to duck and cover. Don't remove the > at the front of the line, and don't put a space after it.

Date: 2237-04-18

Location: Mess Hall

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 985

Jump to End

"That's the thing of it though, isn't it? The real shitty thing of the whole situation. There will never be a good time again, will there? Man versus machine, is there ever going to be an end? The can turn our Raptors against us. Formulate viruses in insects..." Miko shakes his head, his gaze roving anywhere but to land back on Aldrich's. "There is never going to be a good time."

Aldrich frowns a little, uncertainly. "Well... There's general shittiness and then there's acutely personal shittiness," he points out, tentatively. "But I try not to think too hard about the general stuff. All we can do is our best and leave the rest to the gods."

"Well. The apology still stands." Miko ticks up a tense sort of smile again, looking a mite uncomfortable in his own skin. "Did you want dessert? I saw there was chocolate pudding, it's usually less shitty than the fruit cup in syrup option. More coffee?"

Aldrich shakes his head a little, finishes his coffee, and sets it aside. "Listen, if you're only being nice because you feel guilty, you don't have to...over-extend yourself, or anything," he offers, but gives a smile with it. "Apology accepted. It's all in the past."

"See, that's just the thing. It's not about guilt. Not in the way you're thinking." Miko and Aldrich are seated across from each other at a table, looking like they're on the tail end of their meal judging by the contents of their plates. "But I hurt..." The medic leans forward slightly, scooting to the front edge of his seat as his voice lowers. "I hurt a lot of people with this thing. The remorse. I..." He shakes his head slightly, leaning back with an exhale purely through his nose. "Whatever."

Aldrich raises his eyebrows. "Oh." He tilts his head a little, and says, "I guess absolution kind of comes with the territory for me." He pokes at the remains of his meal, more giving his hands something to do than anything. "I think... There are two things you can do with guilt. You can either let it eat you up... or you can learn from it. Become a bigger person than you were before. At least, that's what I've learned."

Geoff usually loads his tray down, but today he's eating light. Salad and other things that at least pretend to have once been growing and photosynthesizing. Water to drink. Spotting Aldrich, he heads right for that table, and sits down next to the chaplain, giving Miko a look that is either neutral...or chilly. "Hey."

"No that's not..." Miko was going to protest something Aldrich said, but Geoff is there with his tray, looking like he'd care to join the Chaplain. "You're not my spiritual counsellor anymore, remember?" He looks up to Geoff, his lips twisting into a smirk. "Hey mate, come to join our little prayer circle? We're asking the Gods for cherries jubilee for tomorrow."

Aldrich shakes his head a little. "I took that back, remember?" he retorts, to Mikolas, but then glances up to see Geoff join the group. He gives a wan smile at Mikolas's crack, but ignores it in favor of a greeting. "Hi, Geoff. How's it going?"

Ah, the mess hall. Where all good philosophical discussions begin. Especially if you're a teen in high school. There's literally nowhere else to convene and talk about such things without fear of being picked up by the scruff by a callous, unthinking brute. Such violence! High school.

Decked out in the casual marine attire, Erin pops out of the kitchen with a plate of food. Somehow -- /somehow/ -- she manages to carry the tray while also holding an open book in the other. It's a hardcover of some length. No sleeve to announce what it might be, though. From the door to a seat, she inadvertently takes a seat near to the trio of men that are talking about --

-- uh. Religion? Spirituality? Something like that.

Actually, it /does/ seem to be an arbitrary decision because, after a few moments of casual eavesdropping, Erin can't help but look at the men. Her eyebrows furrow. And then, she looks adamantly back into her book. Her free hand -- now that it has placed her tray down -- reaches for some hardened, starchy, cracker-like foodstuff.

"Pray for it after the formal," Geoff advises, then shrugs at Aldrich. "I dunno, fine. Glad we're docked. And I heard there's even shopping. Frakkin' civilized, I call it."

"What does everyone have against Cherries Jubilee. Shit is /fantastic/. Especially when they light that puppy on fire. Whoosh." Miko snorts, "Guess that's the good thing about riding bitch with the Navy, amirite? Tend to be a beach where ever this is a posting." A fork gets pointed in Erin's direction, "What about you, there, sweet cheeks? We going to get to see you in a bikini?"

Aldrich sighs a little and swipes a hand over his face, but shoots Geoff a vague smile, apparently choosing to ignore Mikolas's sudden devolution. "Shopping, hm? And here I am, a lame duck. Maybe I'll try making a trip down, anyway. Most of my personal effects are still back at Edson, probably under a pile of rubble. I could use a chance to restock..."

Liv was not far behind Erin. It seemed to be the key hours of dinner time... One which she avoided like a plague of the Ori, but those pale blue eyes dart to and fro, then seek the veil cast by the loosed dark strands of hair held back in a ponytail of messy/bunned proportions.

As one other of the Timber scooched closer for his meal she shied away from the barest of brushes, even dropping her (ice-cream scooper?) of food to just sprinkle the top of her mound in decorative... Green mix?

A 'dressing' of sorts is splattered over the top and she just accepts it as it is.

But at the end of the 'veritable buffet line she stares "does-eye'd" at the Mess Hall full of bodies with tray in hand and headlights flashing!

Erin is found, and although they ended on a mutual accord, it is better comfort, but she is too close. Th tray rattles, the person behind her paces and she dips away in time for the chuckle to pass and she foregoes further trampling (embarrassment).

But when Liv moves forward, the boots thud with every step and she falls unceremoniously into the seat across from the other woman, casting Miko a shark-like leer. "Ya really need to stop with that book, makes men think you're ignorant to their lack of bed-side manner." A flash of teeth as they grate over the mounded utensil of food.

For a moment, Erin elects to ignore Miko. For a moment. When Liv unceremoniously flops down in front of her, though, the young woman with the short brown hair pauses, looks up from what she is reading, and eyes the other woman. Then, she shrugs non-chalantly, her mouth full of starch-cracker for the moment. Maybe some salt.

The moment after, and her attention focuses on Miko. "I'm sorry, what was that now?" Her tone is mild. Deceptively mild. It's the sort of tone that ought to egg Miko /just/ a little: feigned ignorance mixed in with casual bitchery, as befits her resting face.

Geoff smiles at Erin and the expression lingers as his gaze turns to the salad he's about to shove in his face. Then he glances at Aldrich while his mouth is full. "I can pick you up something if you give me money," he offers.

"You'll make the trip down with someone with you." Miko's flippant behavior dissolves quickly when Aldrich talks about going down to planet. "If anything happens with you and your leg, you're going to need someone to help you." Now the fork gets stabby-stabbed in the Chaplain's direction. "Medic's orders. Or no Jubilee for you." His eyes swing back to Erin and the newly joined Liv. "Nothing. Was just thinking about throwing a beach party. Unless you have something against parties, ladies?"

Aldrich eyes Mikolas, maybe a little bit cooler than before. "Uh huh. I think the doctors outrank you, big shot." He pushes his plate away and folds his arms to lean on the table, turning his attention to Geoff. "It's fine, I can make it. But that's very kind of you."

Liv slides her gaze from Miko to Erin and tics a brow, but then is off to eating in the manner that befits a starving animal... Not the slight woman with the newly donned tank top of a clay hue, where peeks of the inkwork span up along collar, towards neck and disappear beneath. The Sag accent may explain a lot but then again, anyone's could.

The mention of Aldrich's wound though, brings a pause and an inspection of the man and a light grunt, emphasized with a shrug. "Looks like a grown man to me." A mutter and the mention of bikini has Liv now pausing, mid-fork-to-mouth and staring deadpan at Erin.

"You buy. Then go away."

Nom.

"A party." Erin looks, for the moment, baffled. Confused. Maybe mildly offended. Definitely baffled. "A bikini beach party." Blink.

And then, she blinks, and lifts an eyebrow at Miko. "I'm sorry. I don't think we've met, but -- " She looks over at Liv for a second. " -- first, why would you invite me -- and her -- to a party, if we haven't met before, and, second, why would we decide to /accept/ the invitation to strut about half-naked?"

"He's usually like this," Geoff says to Erin and Liv, with a slight note of apology, though he doesn't seem inclined to take responsibility for this.

"I know one of those, too." Miko says pointedly at Aldrich before he works out one of the most painful words in his vocabulary, judging by his expression. "Please?" He's then reaching for Aldrich's tray, starting to stack his dishes with the Chaplain's own. "Because it's a ...party?" Miko seems confused at Erin's questions, shaking his head a little as if it's left him dazed. He thumbs in their direction like, 'get a load of these two'. He then wipes his hand on his pants and leans over, with it extended to the women. "Sergeant Mikolas Kovac, resident ass, both in name and in twerking contests."

Aldrich shakes his head a little, looking a little thrown by the actual politeness. He snatches the last roll off the tray before Miko can take it, and then glances toward Geoff. Possibly to see his reaction to that, before glancing to the ladies with an apologetic little look. "It's probably best to skip to slapping him and go on with your day..."

//Take my hand,
let's have a blast,
and remember this moment for the rest of our lives!//

Liv is mid chew, a leaf sticking from one corner of her lips, pausing as motion from the offer of hand from Sergeant Miko catches her attention. A flash of eyes like a feline debating swiping it claws first... Or stabbing it with her spork.

Whichever..

But she takes a breath when Geoff and Aldrich speak up, Erin asided with a tip of her head as the lettuce disappears from that peek and a small work of her throat. "He said he twerks. Don't trust him. Hips will be useless in..."

COUGHcough! A pat on chest and she is sipping her coffee more like it is a different drink.

The extended hand is eyed and Liv smiles to them both, propping her own beneath the ridge of high-cheekbone. "Livvie. Recon Sergeant. Just back from Tauron."

She has to try as discovered earlier with Erin...

"Oh." Erin closes up her book, and sets it on the table. "For no particular reason, then." She reaches for her fork. "No surreptitious plan to convince us to be promiscuous. Not to eye us in next to nothing. Just -- " She cuts across the air in front of her with her utensil. " -- because. No reason. It's just a party."

She stabs at the edible meal du jour -- the salad, it seems -- and gathers leaves and greens up on her fork. Stab, stab, stab. "Corporal Hayes. Back myself." She chin-bobs towards Liv. "Recon as well." And then, Erin looks up and directly at Miko. "Nice ass. Good start. But if you want us to bounce around half-naked?" Shrug. "Why don't you just ask?"

She shoves her salad into her mouth. Omnomnom. Moar. Omnomnom.

Geoff looks very dubious about Miko's thumb gesture, lifting one eyebrow /hard/ while he forks more salad into his mouth. But he lets the women make their own responses, shooting Aldrich a look.

Miko doesn't seem to take much offense at the other men calling him out on his asshatness as maybe it's a point of pride for this particular marine. Nor does he seem to take affront that his hand goes without a shake, instead using it to steal a piece of lettuce from the edge of Liv's plate, even if that ends up with a fork shaped puncture wound for his trouble. "Just did." Miko replies simply to Erin. "Besides, not really sure either of you have the right amount of sweater meat to qualify as 'bouncing'." His own glance goes back to Aldrich, "You all done, Padre? Need more coffee?"

Aldrich looks toward the ceiling at Mikolas's last comment, and starts to climb to his feet. "Yeah, I think I'm quite done, thank you." He shoots a more reserved smile at the women, with a touch of apology, and adds, "It's been a pleasure, ladies." He reaches for his walking cane, and leans heavily on it as he looks toward Geoff. "Hey, you know that thing we were talking about? When did you want to meet up to talk about that?"

"Whoa," Geoff says, shooting a disapproving look at Miko when he comments on the women's 'sweater meat.' "The frak's your problem? How desperate are you to get reactions from people, anyway?" He glances at Aldrich. "I can come meet you when I'm done eating," he says.

The reach for the leaf, and the commentary from Mik about their 'sweater-meat' has said spork weapon flipped in her hand and plunging down upon the table where retraction of his own meat would occur.

It is seemingly light but if she misses it lands with a pointed thunk, if meet is made, hes going to have spork-scrape 'splainin' to do!

No comment, either way.

Liv is possessive!

Food or friends....
... No touchy! "Says the man stealing 'my' salad." Mutter, a lift of tray and she is moving to claim a sliver beside Erin.

Clap! Tray meets table and her second cup of coffee is hefted.

"No. You invited us to a party. You didn't invite us to prance about like a pair of drunken idiots and jiggle whatever we have." Erin corrects in a meticulous, matter-of-fact tone. "For all you know, we could simply show up, drink your booze, eat your food, and then waltz on out to -- " She gesticulates vaguely with her fork. " -- I don't know, conduct an experiment regarding the volatility of phosphorus."

Nerd.

"As for my sweater meat -- " Beat. " -- I'm sure it's as adequate and pleasing as your trouser meat, Sergeant. So, I'll come along, in the interest of science." Erin gestures at Miko with her fork. "And to see that ass bounce."

See? Corporal "Chilly" Hayes is cool like that. Real cool. She doesn't look the least bit offended. At all. "You want some of mine?" The offer is of her salad, to Liv.

It's with a laugh that Miko draws his hand away, shaking the sting of the fork tines off from it. When a drop of blood appears, he suckles it away with a muffled chuckle. "They can handle their own." Miko tells Geoff with an amused shake of his head as he slides his and Aldrich's combined trays off the table to bus them. As he stands, he gives a triumphant bellow of, "For SCIENCE!"

Aldrich grimaces a little, and glances to Geoff. "I'll see you after dinner. I have... things. In the chapel. To do." He looks rather deeply disturbed, really, but he doesn't comment on it. He starts for the exit, still limping heavily with the aid of the cane.

So her book isn't entirely droll! When Erin speaks up in the manner that uses far more syllables and adjectives then she truly managed to care about there is a stare at her spork in its planted spot, as well as her "molested" tray, but there is a smile there upon lips that had not been there before, or seen while that gaze casts sidelong to Erin. and perhaps there is a wink while her spork is left to lay nicely aligned her plate on the tray.

Aldrich and Geoff, though, get a glance that has her features going right back to placid while hands fold in her lap. She may have no religion, but she still has a respect for the 'Padre', or the innocent bystanders.

There's a heart in there somewhere! "I haven't shopped before, save the Depot. Sounded fun..." Beat. "Til he insulted." A mutter, one that even almost seems apologetic to Erin for having them departing their table.

Eye-shift. The offer of her salad however....

Nom.

Geoff looks disgusted. "Didn't say they couldn't. But I think you have a frakkin' problem trying to start shit around here." He upnods at Aldrich. "Later, then." Then back to Miko. "You can act innocent if you want, but you know you stir the shit because you like attention." He takes a breath, then looks at Erin. "I'll go shopping with you sometime if you want. We can ask Aldrich if his leg is up for it, too. My name's Geoff."

For her part, Erin doesn't break a smile. At all. Apparently, the misogyny and invitations to bounce are all part of a days' work. Something like that. Or it bounces off of her. Or it doesn't bother her. Or all of the above.

"Geoff." The Scientist nods in his direction. "Erin." Beat. "I'm not -- " She shrugs. " -- sure. I'm not excited about shopping. Some treat it as an amusing venture. I consider it a mission of its own kind. At the moment, I don't intend to show up anywhere in a bikini, so there's no need."

She then stage-whispers. "You don't need to tell the Sergeant, though. I intend to destroy his hopes and dreams."

"Hey, every white knight needs to have a dragon to slay." Miko responds to Geoff unapologetically, dumping off the trays and following after Aldrich, with a muted, "Ladies." To them as he passes.

Aldrich keeps right on limping out of there. Chapel bound!

Geoff snorts air through his nose at Miko's parting shot, and doesn't reply. He shrugs at Erin while he loads up his fork with salad. "Suit yourself," he says. "So you been in the military long or...?"

The Corporal frowns, considering the question. "I guess so." Shrug. "Over ten percent of my life. Yes. Over two years. I haven't really thought of it in a while." Erin sets down her fork, and then offers the seat across from her with a gesture. Now that Liv is /beside/ her, and stealing her food, that place is open.

"I think it's long enough. The military isn't -- " Beat. " -- it wasn't my first choice or path. It's just something I fell into." Shrug. "You?"

"Not that long," Geoff admits, and there's a faint embarrassment hidden behind that smile at the confession. "But like...it's been pretty intense the whole time." He shoves his tray down to join the woman.

"It should be. It is calculated to be." Erin looks at the tray that has been appropriated by Liv, and snatches a cracker-starch-board from it both stealthily and swiftly. This is consumed as she continues to talk.

Which is, to say, not a lot. The Corporal gazes at Geoff steadily, but doesn't say any more than what she has. Perhaps she expects him to carry the conversation, or perhaps she hasn't much else to say. Hard to tell.

Wait. There's another question coming. "Where do you hail from?"

"Caprica," Geoff answers, then looks a little more cautious. "Why?" He pauses after another mouthful of lunch. He's out of salad at this point. "I mean, not that I mind you asking. How about you?"

In response, Erin shrugs lazily. "I was curious." And that is the limit of her answer. She says no more on it. No, instead, her dry-ass-cookie-substitute is consumed. Half-consumed, that is, before she has to take a sip of what is probably coffee.

"You part of the Marines?" she asks, her tone remaining off-hand. Looks like an interrogation is starting.

"Yeah," Geoff says, that hint of tension easing. "Oh, that's cool," he adds on the subject of curiosity. "How 'bout you, what's your story?"

Liv had zoned out for the moment, staring at the lettuce in fingers, as she had left her "weapon of choice" beside her plate Miko had pilfered from. Adding insult to...Injuries.

Geoff was being a gentleman. Did she trust it? Nope. She knows better, she had to learn...

Appetite lost the lettuce remaining is abandoned and the final swallow is almost choked down audibly while a hand cups over her mouth and those pale eyes skim over the top of hand to look between the two.

Erin is offered a small smile while that gaze resettles and looks towards Geoff. "Shopping it is then!" Hand that had lain over her lips claps down upon the table in finality, since they had "missed out" and now...

Oh the fun...

"Your planet sucks for beaches..." By the way, Erin!

"Where are you from?" A tip of chin in an up-nod to Geoff, though as she looks between the two she lightly clears her throat and starts gathering up tid-bits...

"Actually, it doesn't." Erin's reply to Liv is less of a retort than a comment. Or prelude to a lecture. "There were plenty of beaches. Nice beaches. Now, though, most of them have been bombed into oblivion." She runs her tongue inside her mouth, along her teeth. "I've fond memories of those places."

Pause.

"I'm from Aquaria," she tells Geoff, resuming. "I was there when Heim was obliterated. Joined up with what was left of the military, then flew with the Libran Fleet for a bit before being called into the Forces." She then pulls her book towards her, just a hair.

To the side, "Can I have my salad back?" If Liv isn't going to have any more of it.

Geoff nods at Liv. "Let me know when you wanna go. Sooner's probably better than later. You never know when they're gonna switch plans on you." He sets his fork down while the talk gets a little heavy. He nods at Erin. "That's..." he doesn't know the right word to pick.

Three Marines sit in the mess hall, some time after the normal time for meal time ... which is this time, right now. Right here, right now.

Liv sits with Erin on one side of the table. The former looks like she's about to get sick; there's a hand over her mouth, briefly, before a spork is set down. The latter looks like she's going to reclaim the tray; she's reaching over for it, sidelong, while her other hand rests on a convenient-sized book of substantial thickness (no cover, no title).

Geoff sits across from them, with his own tray. There's a third tray nearby, presumably Liv's or that of someone who's left. At this point in conversation, he seems a little speechless.

"Let me know when, and I am in." All the small bits left on the table are gathered, even a napkin to wipe it up and place it accordingly in a just-so manner. For a girl who seems so ready-to-go, she is orderly and to a point. Even if looking at food any more makes her want to ralph. Considering as much as she consumed before she wanted to start stabbing people... No shock.

Lil Garbage Disposal.

But not speaking up now as Geoff is speaking to Erin and she is just putting things in place and eyeing the book of Erin's as if it just might be interesting enough...

The salad is waved off and the hang of unzipped casuals slaps against the seat she is perched upon while hands clasp, just so before her as if in prayer.

Not her thing either...

Erin lifts an eyebrow, and says to him, critically, "I'm not maudlin." Beat. "It is what it is. People die. Cities burn. This is the reality now, and I accept it." Her tone, towards the end, holds an edge. Her conviction is probably not as certain as her words.

She looks askance at Liv. "Why don't you two go shopping now? I'm not in the mood to shop." She pats the book. "Have a couple of hours before I have to hit drills and practice. Not enough time for me to head down planetside." Another beat. "Which I do not want to do anyway."

Bean crutches his way into the mess, his left foot done up in a cast that looks like someone with a love of rainbows has decided to decorate. He hasn't been on the Galactica in sometime, having been one of the few who got scrambled off Canceron before all hell went sideways. The reason for his rapid evacuation? A broken foot. He's almost done with this gimp-inducing state, which is probably why they are even letting him back onboard to prepare for, well, whatever's coming next.

The PFC is looking a little weathered -- befitting his Gramps nickname a bit more readily as of late. Stress, insomnia, and stubbornness has a way of aging a man, it seems. Geoff is the only of the marines in the mess that he recognizes, and he starts his hobbling pace toward the rifleman.

"Okay," Geoff says as neutrally as he can manage to Erin. But he's probably uncomfortable. "So...what's /your/ deal, then?" Geoff asks Liv next. But hen Erin's suggestion. "Uh, I guess we could?" It's hard to miss someone crutching your way, so he looks in Bean's direction. "Oh," he says, a little surprised. "Hey." He looks at the cast. "You kick a unicorn?"

Liv is turned to the side now, her side to Geoff, back to Erin, lightly hunched as knees form a prop for elbows and head bows between, loose thread of black hair falling to one side.

So! Erin's look in askance is unseen (so she can believe)! "Huh? Tomorrow night? Sorry I only hear my pulse right now..." A few breathes taken in... Out... Whoo-sahhhh...

Enter the gimp borne from Unicorn ass kickery! Brow-perk.

Geoff gets a look, then Erin as she slowly rights. Rocking back. "Just do it." Nike Swoosh!

Erin shrugs. "Tomorrow night, maybe." Beat. "Perhaps. Not sure what I'll want to do tomorrow. I suppose it would be -- " She searches for a word, looking elsewhere for a moment. " -- educational? Sure. Something to do, I guess, that will put me on solid ground." Towards the end, she sounds as if she's musing on the prospect. Like it were an adventure of mild proportions.

She resumes eating her salad. Slowly. She doesn't look up as Bean approaches, and gives no indication that she's noted his appearance. Even if he sits. Which he probably will.

Suddenly, Erin says, aside to Liv, "Are you considering going to the Sergeant's party in a bikini?" She sounds curious. Maybe a little concerned. Worried? Possibly.

"Ha. Ha." Bean leans heavily into the crutches once he is close to the table, looking over the gathered marines. He draws his crutches together, hobbling a bit, and taking a seat beside Geoff, across from Liv and Erin. "No. I became a right-ol' softy once the pain meds kicked in. There was some kiddo in the hospital, there on emergency care, and she decided I was in need of sunshine and rainbows." She wasn't wrong. The Caprican -- a street kid by his twang rather than one of the uppity-ups -- starts to rub at the space just below his knee. "I forgot how many damn stairs there are on this ship." He then glances to the other two, and up-nods. "Don't let me interru -- what?" He blinks as he looks between Erin and Liv and then seeks centering from Geoff.

"Aw, that's cute," Geoff says, and he actually sounds sincere about that. There's a smile for the little rainbows, then Geoff looks back to Bean's face. "Huh? Oh. Miko was just here stirring the shit. Who knows if there'll even /be/ a party. I think he just wanted an excuse to be frakkin' rude to some new faces. Everybody else is probably tired of his played-out game by now." No love lost, it would seem.

Erin's words have Live looking back at her with a smile after being drawn away from the cast and the casual rove upward to focus on Bean for that moment until he takes his seat beside Geoff. The bikini query though...

Slow..../slowww/ blink as her crown tips and head cants to bring the pale blue gaze back to Erin with a disbelieving draw of lids in one more blink for emphasis!.

"I wasn't joking about going planetside for something not-a-dress. Tell me -you- are?" Beat "Right?"

A flick of hair from her profile and she shrugs, rocking back to rise to a stand. "Bikini's go under the fancy, "/fingerwaggle/. "Just in case!"

Though now the look from Bean to Geoff gets a shrug from Liv to him as she gets her two mugs. "Coffee?"

In response to Liv's proposal, Erin shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe." Non-committal. Non-chalant. Or, so she sounds. Seems an odd question for her to bring up /after/ Miko has left.

"Braggadocio is typical among those with fragile egos," she then says to no one in particular, but the intended target of the comment is obvious. "I've found it common among men that stare death in the face." Erin picks up her drink, and takes a slow sip of it. Her gaze -- that unerring, green, cold gaze -- comes to rest on Beans. "I'm not one to argue with another person's defense mechanism. We all have them. Helps to defray the degeneration of our humanity."

Sip.

"Hayes. Corporal Hayes." To Bean, she says this. "Some call me Chilly." It could be a call-sign or a description.

"Good to hear things don't change 'round here," Bean says, the sarcasm a bit hidden under exhaustion. He does glance toward the mess hall hatch. "Want me to go kick him? I hear Rainbow Boot can be a nasty surprise." He looks over toward Liv and Erin. "And you must be the new faces we're talkin' about here." He gestures to himself. "Chauncy Enos Bean, but everyone calls me Bean," and based on his name, who is really surprised? "Or Gramps. Private First Class, Colonial Marines, Recon." He gives off a small salute that seems half-hearted at best.

"Coffee?" Bean repeats, and he offers Liv a weathered, but pleasant smile. "I like her. She said coffee." Then his blue gaze settles on Erin, and he rubs at his jaw thoughtfully. Her introduction causes a slight quirk of his mouth, and he nods slightly. "Alright, Hayes... I think I've seen your name pop up when I was looking over the rosters coming back in." He pauses before adding, "Knowing each other's defense mechanisms is good though."

"That's not what it is," Geoff argues bluntly with Erin. "He's playing frakking games. You have no idea." He looks to Bean. "Don't bother, he'd get off on the attention."

Another mug is taken up, all three filled and the steaming cups of the nectar of the gods are delivered. One for Bean, two for Liv...

A plop back into her seat and she extends a hand. "Liv. Sergeant. Recon." A glance to his cast and to him. "At your side."

The small smile wanes a bit as the mug is brought upward and is sipped upon.

Just do not call her Overstreet, and she's good. No callsign aside from her name/nickname.

A glance to Erin and she sets her mug down. "You need to be called Descartes. To be truthful." The mug set down for preparation!

She has but one spork! Beware!

Geoff does get a glance though and a small knowing smile. He is in for one hell of a night tomorrow. "See you...?" Time..?

Sigh. "Then why deny him?" Erin lifts an eyebrow, and gives Geoff a pointed look. "Play his game. Earn his loyalty. No different than keeping a dog. It doesn't hurt me to make him happy, no matter how callous, heartless, or stunted he may act."

"So, maybe I show up at his party. Maybe I fawn over his dancing skills." Shrug. "Maybe I jump up and down, and prove that I don't have a pair of bouncing tits he can get his hands on. So?" Another shrug. "He gets a story to tell. He blows off some steam. And, in the end? He'll fight harder and better."

She gestures to herself. "It doesn't bother me in the slightest. Game or not. Fact is, we all may get frakkin' killed the next time we get to the front. Might as well do so without wondering what we may have missed."

And then, to Liv: "To each their own vice, Sergeant." That's all.

"Uh...Like four I guess?" Geoff proposes. Then he shrugs at Erin. "That's your call. But I'm not playin'." He stands up and stretches. "All right, I gotta go on duty in a minute. See you all around."

Bean has stepped into something. He leans back a bit, heavy arms crossing his chest as he considers first Geoff and then Erin. He arches up a brow, but is distracted by coffee when Liv sets down a mug and then offers a hand. He shakes it once, and then offers a nod of thanks for the coffee. He draws his hands around it, takes a sip, all while considering Erin. "You're not wrong," the Caprican begins. "But you're not right either. My guess is that you're okay with that, though... that you know feeding bad behavior reinforces it, but you're not speaking from a place that worries about that. You're speaking from the same place we all are: will it really matter if the worlds end tomorrow?" He narrows his eyes slightly as he takes another sip of coffee, letting the black potion feed his nerves. He then looks up to Geoff and nods. "See you," he offers back. Then he looks back to Erin.

AANNNDDDD as her ass hit her seat with the intro it rebounded like a basketball that just "SIKED!" and circled the rim only to fall out and hit the floor in a miss! "I forgot about our gamble at Pyramid!"

HINTHINT!

"Cauncy." A tip of mug his way... she likes that name better... "Does not matter what we give anyone, they'll eat it up and dispose of it like waste. We live it, we fight it. Let's not /waste/ our efforts..." A low murmur.

"We have to save reserves to store for a new level tomorrow..." Right? Right!

Why is Liv being the level one right now? Despite the sickening knot inside of her forming at her own words of knowing better.

Up-nodto Bean, nudge-nudge to Erin and she is slowing exiting stage left.

As a reply, briefly, Erin just smiles faintly at Bean. "Perhaps." She's perhaps as smart as she sounds. "As for myself, you are partially correct. I don't worry about these things. Except when I am concerned with them."

On that note, the Aquarian pushes against the table, and lifts herself up. She picks up her tray in one hand, and takes up her book with the other. "Tomorrow always matters, Private, to someone. Have to think about that. Until then, though -- " She chin-bobs at Bean's cup. " -- enjoy the coffee. Look forward to working with you."

She lets out her breath. "Liv." Erin lifts an eyebrow at her, and then murmurs, "If you wanted to take me somewhere -- " The thought is left there. Apparently, the two of them know each other.

Bean watches Liv with a hint of amusement. "Gambling on Pyramid, hm?" Gramps just grins before he sips his coffee, sighing gently. When Liv starts to make her exit, he returns the up-nod and then carefully eyes the chow line, feeling his own hunger burble. Then he looks back to Erin with a quirk of his smile again. "As should we all be, Corporal, as should we all." He smiles vaguely before he leaves his mug so he can hustle into his crutches again, aiming to get himself something to eat.


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