Post-award ceremony, pilots and marines gather to drink and dance the night away (but mostly drink).
Location: Hotel Resort
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 348
There was a bit of a break after the christening and awards ceremony to let the crew disperse and prepare for the ball. Now as the sun is just starting to dip down, the crew has reconvened - mixing with some old familiar faces from the Galactica - as the ball commences.
The CF monkey suit isn't really any worse than the Scorpian monkey-suit, and so Tavo looks more or less at ease, collecting a little plate of snacks and a drink that he's awkwardly balancing. He's finally gotten rid of his sling, although his sartorial balancing act is not made any easier by his need to keep his left arm close to his stomach. Still, he's found several Galactica marines and is chattering away, describing some firefight or other with the slight hand gestures that he can get away with without spilling food or drink.
Unfamiliar with the Galactica faces, Gage seems disinclined to mingle with the crew of the Battlestar. On the upside, though, he's located himself a beer and has found a plate of something delicious which he can't describe (and probably doesn't want to know the makings of), lingering near it not-so-casually, but determinedly clear the plate, side-eyeing others that come near.
Calliope is working her dress uniform tonight, rather than lady's formal wear. She has done a little mixing with the Galactica personnel, saying hellos and trading stories from the campaigns they've been involved in since she left the battlestar. She's in need of another drink, though, so she excuses herself and goes in search of a fresh glass of wine.
Somewhere between parade ground and hotel, Irene's done a magic transformation, gone is the dress uniform and in its place a blistering red number that only the most fabulous military ever would adopt as their uniform. She's also found a handsome Virgan in a Royal Navy dress uniform somewhere, brushed him off and brought him along. He looks very, very expensive. The pair take a while to get through to the back, running a small gauntlet of reporters and cameras in the lobby, waving, smiling and answering questions with the lively wit expected of celebrity and royalty both. It's not until her heels touch grass that she relaxes, if only a little. There's plenty of dignitaries lurking about back here, after all. The mask doesn't slip much.
Lyn makes her way in. She knows Aldrich had a last-minute counseling duty show up and might be late, if he makes it at all. However, she already bought her dress and fancy jewelry and had her hair and makeup done, so here she is. She didn't get any awards herself, other than the 'forgot to duck' ones, but she moves through the crowds, congratulating the award recipients with a bright smile, trying not to fall over in her heels.
Staff Sergeant Eudora Rothschild may have started the day in a perfectly laundered and pressed dress uniform, and performed her duty before the rope line of reports, but -- like her Virgon counterpart Irene Harris -- as the sun begins to set on Scorpia, the Leonese woman emerges dressed in a crimson tea-length evening dress complete with capped sleeves and a generous neckline. She looks damn good in red, perhaps from her father's Tauron heritage. She steps in the ballroom through one of the side doors as if avoiding the flashbulbs that are going off at the front of the hotel, and she smooths down the front of her red gown. Sometime between awards ceremony and ball, her nails have been done and her lips are painted that signature red. Dark hair curled and pinned back, she looks very much like she has in other formal occasions while out on tour for the Colonial Forces. She glances around, looking over the crowds.
Ahhh what a way to meet people. Transfer orders come in, there's a package that comes along with a dress, and soon enough Faye finds herself swept along into another sessions of primping and prepping (no matter how much she tries to bat at make-up artist as they approach her with yet a different shade to check). Either way, somewhere along the line they managed to slide her into the silver floor-length dress that moves almost like a liquid upon the woman. A splash of light green with flecks of silver about her eyes, a careen of silver-lipstick to match the dress and the sound of her feels clicking every every step.
Yes, clearly, the best way to meet members of the new unit you're in is to wear a fancy dress during some R&R. Best impressions right? She too had found a date somewhere out there, an officer in his dress uniform. A slip of her arm into his and she gave little waves to the people about as she's brought through the gauntlet. A pause here and there to show off the dress in a practiced pose (that was part of the stipulation after all), and just up ahead -- she can see it -- freedom. Freedom from the flashing of lights.
Uncomfortable. That's the best word to describe Aleksander, uncomfortable and very grouchy, an expression he is failing to hide before a passive demeanor. Stuffed in the Colonial Forces dress uniform, with new Corporal pins on, the Timberwolf rifleman is scowling at those venture too close to him. When the speeches and whatnot are finished, with people breaking up to wherever they wish to go, the Tauron pulls out a very /non-CF-regulation/ Foreign Legion beret and slips it on at a slight tilt. He will wear it proudly until ordered to remove, and even then he might protest enthusiastically. For now, the Marine is trying to stay unnoticed off to the side. A hand goes to his breast pocket and then when he pats it, he remembers that he isn't allowed to smoke inside, "Frak."
That search for a drink eventually takes Calliope toward the bar.
Tavo excuses himself from the mess of Galactica Marines, finishing off the last cocktail shrimp on his little plate and then slips through the crowd with surprisingly little wake for such a big man. He finds himself near the fountain, just like the last hotel party after an awards ceremony, only to notice the Tauran ex-Foreign Legionnaire and move off in that direction. "Hey. You're... Davion, right? One of Rothschild's friends?" There's a little hesitation before her name, but he sticks with the last name, although he does glance toward the door -- just in time to see the silver dress but to miss the red ones.
Gage has a dilemna; he finishes his beer before he's finished the plate of delicious-whatevers he's staked out beside. He eyes the distance to the drinks table (not that far), then the number of things left on the plate. After a beat, he shrugs, grabs a napkin, and dumps the remainder of the plate's contents into it. No one's watching or photographing him, after all. Pleased with his solution, he angles towards the drinks table, carrying his booty with him, slowing as he spots Aleksander. "Corporal," he says, with a sudden smirk. His own, newly pinned rank is just as shiny. "Found somewhere to get a quiet smoke yet?"
"Gosh, did you forget to shine your shoes?" Irene asks her very distinguished and proper date in a loud whisper. He glances down, letting his chin drop for the first time since he arrived with her. Her lips form a perfect 'oh' teasingly when he looks back up from his extremely well shined shoes to affix her with a patient but slightly arch gaze. There's no appreciation of humour there. Stick is firmly up posterior with that guy. At least he's dreamy, and is chivalrous enough to go scrounge up some wine for her. As soon as she's alone, she looks around for more familiar faces, lifting a hand to Eudora and Faye when she spots her next. It's a bit of a circus though, so she's likely missed some.
Lyn heads for Tavo first. "Congratulations on your Phoenix Cross, Sergeant. Good to see you're healing up. Need you for Pyramid, especially since Lindus is a Wolf now." She has a glass of something in her hand, sipping at it.
Irene's wave catches Dora's eye, and she cannot help but laugh as she raises her own hand in greeting. She spots Tavo, and... hmm... Davy. But she doesn't start directly toward them. No. She heads for Irene, crossing toward the fellow woman in red with a light smile on her full red lips. "Hmph. You would think that they would at least not dress us to match," she murmurs to her fellow PR token. She sets a hand on one of those voluptuous hips and catches a passing glass of champange with her other. She keeps an eye on Tavo, Gage and Aleks while she sips her newly claimed drink.
Hearing the greeting and his name, Aleksander turns to face Tavo and inclines his head to the larger gunner, "Yep, feel free to call me Davy if you want. And you are Tavo, Dora's good friend." A smile is offered to the other man, "I'm tempted to just duck out but that might be frowned upon, we're supposed to be a presence here or something. Can't wait to get out of this damned uniform though." When Gage approaches with a word on his new rank, Aleksander scowls back with displeasure, "Yeah, yeah, and no. I don't think we can smoke in here, unless it's fancy cigars that the high brass have. I'm dying for one right now."
The description of himself as Dora's 'good' friend has Tavo's shoulder's tightening up a little, even as he tries to tell himself that the emphasis was all in his head. "Davy it is. And yeah, I'm Tavo." The big man nods to Lyn as well, shuffling his feet a little at the congratulations, "Thanks. Just... what we had to do." Which may be underselling it a little. Gage gets a nod as the other man approaches, and then he adds for both Gage and Aleksander, "Congratulations on the promotions, both of you." Aleksander's grouchiness at the promotion draws a chuckle, and Tavo gestures up to the other man's hat, "I think you'll have to get that hat in front of at least a Colonel to get busted down again, Davy." Then, of course, there's pyramid, and he nods to Lyn, "Once my shoulder's really better, I'm looking forward to taking him on. Show him that Scorpia isn't that ass at pyramid as the Cup suggested."
"I was really hoping for blue, but the team of stylists that jumped me swore that red was the color this season." Irene sighs, but she's not too put out. The styles are varied enough that Eudora and her don't look like complete carbon copies, so it's not /so/ bad. Her hands are clasped neatly in contrast, posture picture perfect as if either expecting, or trained to believe there are cameras everywhere at all times. "We haven't crossed paths in a while have we? How are you?" She wonders aloud, gaze follow Dora's to check out the Marines too.
Faye gives her final little wave before hitting the grass and guiding her date along. She might have her hand though his arm, but the fact that he lags just a hair behind speaks instead to who exactly is guiding them along. A glance of her eyes off to the left, taking in the people there, a flick back to the right and... Oh! Familiar face. She begins to walk in a slow pace (careful of those heels on the grass) toward Irene.
"There you are." She says in advance of her movements, her free hand held up to wave slightly. "I hope you got that blouse back, I sent a goffer out since they pretty much had to wrangle me into that chair for a while." A sigh a shake of her head from side-to-side with a roll of her eyes. "And the towel?" she adds on quickly.
"Not to worry. Take a nip out to the beach later," Gage thumbs vaguely in the direction, before grinning at Aleksander's reaction. "Aint so bad. Get a pay bump with the promotion. And it's there's plenty enough Staffs around that we don't ever have to be in charge," case in point, he gestures towards Gustavo with a grin, nodding his thanks at the other marine's thanks, while he slips one of those finger foods from his napkin into his mouth. "Arda," he greets Lyn, with a nod.
Lyn nods to Gage with the smile of someone uncomfortable at these events. "Congratulations to you as well, for your cluster," she says.
"Mmhmm. You know, darling, they did that so they can just say that we're the ones in red. I'm onto them." Eudora seems a bit at ease with Irene, even if the two have only really met in passing. She then offers a shrug and a nod. "Well enough. I find myself cringing every time we come back into Scorpia though. My shoreleave schedule is quick to get filled up with whatever the brass wants me to do while I'm in camera range." She chuckles, and then gives a slight smile to Faye as she comes in. It takes the Leonese woman a few moments to recognize that face, and then she is shaking her head with a laugh. "Goodness... swimsuit models, actresses, pyramid players, and celebrity 'war heroes.' All on the same ship. No wonder the brass pulled out all the stops today." She then offers out a hand to Faye. "Eudora Rothschild. Faye... Zeller, yes?"
When Tavo mentions being busted down for wearing the beret, Aleksander looks at the Gunner and says, "Has to be a Colonel or higher? I might just have a mission tonight then. Or I could find an Admiral's daughter to make out with, but... that may be too much and get me thrown off of the Colonial Forces." The Tauron then nods to Gage and his suggestion, "Perhaps the beach then. Pay bump isn't worth it, it's a trick. Now you get more responsibility and they expect even /more/ from you. Plus you're one rank below them having you lead squads." When Lyn nears, Aleksander offers her a nod in greeting as well.
Now, Irene isn't supposed to get gushy and excitable, since she's in proper presentation mode, but she kinda does anyway. There's a tiny bounce from heel to toe and back again, and her previously clasped hands slap out a tiny rapid round of applause at waist level, "Faye! Have you met our most illustrious Staff Sergeant?" She naturally cedes the proper introductions at that point to Dora, roping the other woman over with the insistence of her gaze and smile, more than anything. "And the same here. I've only had half a day to myself, and I spent it being drowned by a Hibernian."
Micah arrives a bit later than he would have liked. The past couple days had really been monumentally painful. With the transfer and the relocation to the temporary housing, the pilot was still living out of the standard issue duffel bags. And yes, he was irritated that he had to dump everything out to get to the clothing at the bottom. The click of his dress shoes against the concrete coupled with hands constantly smoothing out the lines in that brand new Colonial Uniform only add to his hesitation about this whole thing. A party with his new unit. There's no way this could go wrong, right? Polite smiles and nods aside, Knoor moves toward the entrance of the hotel. He'd keep his eyes peeled for people he knew, if he knew anyone! Honest!
Gage gives the merest of shrugs at Lyn's congratulations, lips twitching. "Always enjoy blowing things up. Aint much to it." He coughs briefly, clearly amused at Alek's words. "You want to get demoted again that bad, just get drunk and spill a few drinks on some crisp, be-ribbed uniforms. Aint much to it." He grimaces a little at the mention of almost leading.
Lyn returns Aleksander's nod of greeting, and she just slips into listening to the conversation of the gaggle of others. "You could be like me, 17 years in and still a Sergeant," she says with a sheepish grin.
"I was hoping seventeen years and still a Corporal, Sergeant." Aleksander says with a light laugh, a little bit of humor there at least as he answers Lyn with a slight shake of his head. He then looks back to Gage an dshakes his head, "I prefer not to get someone unreleted involved, unless they wanted to. Now, with an Admiral's daughter, especially if she is a Leonese Princess... I can convince."
As the other woman begins to address her there's a pause and one of the crafted brows dips as she searches the woman's face. A flick over her from head to toe, then back to the face as she listens. Her lips are already pulling into that smile still that seems more amused as she mentions the various people on the same ship. The name is mentioned.... CLICK! "OH! OH! Gods!"
Faye looks over at her date and makes some shooing gestures, "Wine, please." She says quickly then turns back to Rothschild "You're kidding me! I swear, when I saw Irene and I thought it was such an odd quick but you as well?! The Praetorian of Trenoir? I /loved/ your work." She takes the woman's hand in turn as she turns to look over toward Irene.
"Quite, if you didn't pop from the waves like poseidon's little sister, I probably would've laid into her." She responds back to Irene's comment of being half drowned.
Rothschild laughs brightly at poor Irene, and she offers the younger woman a wry smile. "You're a Virgon. You must remember to never, ever anger a Hiberian." Beat pause. "Though, did you perhaps deserve it?" Now the Leonid is teasing the woman gently before she looks back across the ballroom toward Aleksander and the other two marines. She gives her almost-brother a slight glare of warning, as if she knows he's about to cause trouble. But Faye distracts her, and she shakes her head slightly with an amused smile. The comment of her work draws a faint chuckle from her. "Mmm, I suppose I'm a natural. But thank you. I personally find your work to be far superior to mine. Both of you." She winks to Irene. Then, Dora gestures toward the gaggle of men and Lyn, and offers the other two women a wry smile. "Shall we go cause some gossip and go socialize?"
"I think 'making out with' is safe, Davey," Tavo chuckles easily enough, an honest smile crossing his lips, "But if you go beyond second base, you get thrown out of the Cee-Eff. Be careful though, you might get thrown a fire team as a Corporal." Still, he nods to Gage at the suggestion, "Up-chucking is definitely safer." Lyn dating herself draws his brows up, "Never would have guessed." And oh look, someone mentioned Leonese princesses, and here come the celebrities. Thankfully, Tavo's back is to them for now, so everyone will get a great shot of surprised-Tavo in a moment.
"Could be worse," Gage tells Lyn, "Could be you having to order people around. Can't think of anything worse." Someone is definitely not gunning for further promotions, here. With a snort of amusement: "Careful, Davy. If you're too convincing you could find yourself out of the CF and with a baby on the way. Plus, I hear Leonese Princesses are total pain in the asses. Expect you to be all gentlemanly and the like." He rolls his eyes, sneaks another of those finger-foods from his napkin.
"I have a bad habit of telling the truth. And also disobeying stupid orders. Tends to keep me from promotion," Lyn explains with a chuckle.
"I think I maaaay have slightly elbowed her in the nose." Irene admits quietly before pondering the odd concentration of celebrity in the unit. "That is strange isn't it? All the stars. I thought I heard there was a singer somewhere too and usually I'm absolutely stellar at spotting pyramid stars... do we have any Threshers?" So excite. She's also easily dragged along any which way, provided there's conversation to wing her along. In this case, there definitely is so off she goes. Her date is going to be so irritated. If he ever finds her again.
Unfortunately for Rothschild, Aleksander is already in step one of trouble. The Foreign Legion beret is on his head, definitely not regulation for tonight's event but the Marine doesn't seem to care for now. When she joins the group, he flashes a grin, "Dora, I am glad that you could join us tonight. You look... pretty good tonight. I would also almost ask you out on a date." He then looks to Tavo and laughs, "I will steal the base another time then, or in an unseen corner." Then the Tauron looks to Gage and smirks, "Having a royal baby? Not too bad... I'll be set for life! And I may be able to handle that particular pain in the ass. It would be worth it. The golden ticket."
A flash of a smile and a wiggle of her eyebrows to Rothschild with a little shift of her hips to match. Her voice dips in pitch with a little hum as she responds back to the woman, "Ten to one says they think it's just a fraking breeze to look this way and that we just /love/ wearing this all." A slow smile starts to ripple along her lips and up into her eyes, but she'll go along with if the others start to move. Did she have a date....?
There's a look over at Irene as she starts to gush about pyramid stars a snorted laugh as she shakes her head from side-to-side, "I never would've pegged you as a pyramid fan. I dunno, I never really got into watching it, though I've been known to play it from time-to-time. I'm quite terrible."
"A singer?" Rothschild sounds thoughtful. "I'll have to snoop that one out." The mention of pyramid draws a laugh from her. "Mmm, well... you're in for a treat. That's Gustavo Delgado... played college pyramid. I'm more than confident that after this is done, he will be doing work in the sport." Dora winks to Faye and Irene before she starts to guide the women along. "Logan Lindus is in the Recon squad. He played for the Threshers." Gods, she can't believe she's remembering all of this. She almost sighs as she draws Irene and Faye along if they so desire, and when Aleks welcomes her, she almost smirks. "I could just smell mischief in the air, and knew it was your Lords' awful scent." There's affection in that statement all the same.
"Trust me, 'worth it' gets redefined pretty quickly," Gage mutters to Aleksander. He gives Lyn a rueful smile. "Aint such a bad role. All leaders need a truth-teller to keep 'em in check." The combat engineer gives Rothschild a nod of welcome as she approaches, before his gaze flickers to the other two. One's unfamiliar, but the other, after a furrow of brow, earns a, "Lieutenant," he snaps his fingers as he regards Irene, "Toothbrush?" Not quite, but he does grin all the same.
"Not all of them," Tavo responds to Gage at the comment about what Leonese Princesses like, although it causes him to clear his throat immediately after he makes the comment. Aaaaand there's Rothschild. Tavo's eyes widen slightly as Alexander greets her, and he turns around, opening his mouth to say hello, and there are actually two women in red dresses and one in silver. He... sort of notices two of them, but mostly he notices Rothschild. "Wow." And then he clears his throat again and looks over to Faye and Irene as well, "You all look lovely tonight, ladies." He looks around the little group of Marines, and then does his duty, "Corporal Davion, Sergeant Arda, Corporal..." he's not certain of Gage's name now, trying to remember it from the ceremony, "Thomas?" A glance Gage's way, "Sorry, I don't think we've actually been introduced."
Lyn gives a welcoming nod to the new arrivals, and she takes a small step back to widen the circle for their entry.
Irene's eyes roll up and she faints when she finds out there's a Thresher in the unit. Well, okay, she actually just perks up like that's the most amazing thing she's heard in recent memory. That gets filed away for future reference, undoubtedly, but isn't mentioned again. There's more people to check out and smile at in that perfectly fetching way of hers. She brightens even more when Gage remembers her, and she him, "Hi! You're looking smarter with those sparkling white teeth, and less chafed undercarriage?" She leans just a touch and her eyes flick a glance down Gage's body. There's a smile and a lift of a hand to encompass the others she doesn't know or not well.
Right, and introductions. Irene helpfully supplies her own, "I'm Lieutenant junior grade Irene Harris, formerly of the Royal Virgon Navy."
There is a mock look of disbelief leveled at Rothschild when Aleksander hears her words, "Hey now, I'm freshly showered, a dab of cologne. I'm... actually presentable tonight." Much to his dismay from the way the Tauron says it, along with the scowl that follows as he reaches up to tug at the collar that feels too tight even though it was tailored properly to fit him. His gaze then shifts to Irene and Faye, inclining his head to the two, "Evening Ladies. What he said." Aleksander says, nodding his head at Tavo, echo his complements but definitely not in such a silver tongued sort of way. It's as if he isnt' even trying.
A shake of her head from side-to-side again as she listens to the others. Faye's about to commend back to the others as well, her mouth opening when.... her date shows back up with a glass of champagne. A turn of her head, looking to the man, the glass, oh! Right! Her date. She flashes him a smile, a crinkle of her nose as she takes the glass and says quite bemusedly, "I think I said wine." Then she turns back away from the man with the glass still in hand. A raise of it and she takes a short sip before giving a simple nod to each of the men who introduced themselves in turn (or as they're introduced in, as Tavo takes it upon himself to do for the others).
"Lieutenant jay gee Faye Zeller. Just was transferred in." She says simply and a flick of her eyes to Rothschild with a slide of her lips yet wider as she says quietly, but not too quietly, "Well, at least I know who to talk to if I want to meet the cute ones."
Roths winks to Tavo at his one-word appreciation, and she touches his forearm gently before hse smiles back to Aleksander. She notes the baret, and smirks. "Davy!" For a moment, it may sound like Dora is about to scold him, but instead she reaches up to gently reposition the baret and smooth it out. "You look very handsome tonight." There's a devilish note in her tone before she turns aside, and settles in besides Tavo. She gestures to Irene and Faye. "Irene and I met while working... hm... it was that charity event, wasn't it?" Then she smiles to Faye. "Faye, Irene... these are just some of the Marines on the Dauntless. They'll become familiar faces if they aren't already." Then she takes another sip from her flute of bubbly.
Gage's brow definitely goes up in a immediate invitation for Tavo to explain. "Oh? Got some sordid tale about a Leonese Princess to share with the class?" he asks, blandly, while well-aware of the awkward arrivals. "Tomak," he adds, of his own introduction. Irene's response earns a baring of teeth that might be a smile, or might just be a showing of teeth. "Thanks to you and you alone. And my boys are much more happy since my things got shipped from the Vanguard." Thankfully, he doesn't grab them in gesture, probably only because his hands are full with his empty beer bottle and napkin of purloined finger-food. He gives a nod towards Faye as she introduces herself.
And Tavo realizes he never introduced himself, his shoulders tensing a little at the faux pas and then wincing a touch and conspicuously loosening his left shoulder. "Staff Sergeant Delgado, sirs," that to Irene and Faye, "Tavo Delgado." Faye's comment causes his cheeks to heat a little, and he glances aside to watch Rothschild chide-tease Aleksander, smiling a bit more naturally -- until Gage asks his question, and he clears his throat again, "Sorry, Tomak." There's a pause, as he glances down at his glass, and then shakes his head, "Nothing sordid. Just stands to reason, doesn't it?"
Lyn makes her way away from the group, to shake a few more hands and plaster on her best fake smile, before she finds a place to sit and drink her wine in peace.
When Faye introduces herself as a Lieutenant Junior Grade, Aleksander inclines his head in acknowledgement, "Officers in our presence, I would salute, Lieutenants," He says to the two pilots, "But it seems like the sleeve is my right arm is /extra/ stiff, feels like they make these out of kevlar or something." When Rothschild nears, it looks like the Tauron has full trust in her that she won't snatch his most prized possession away, staying motionless while she adjusts the beret. "Dora, I look handsome /every/ night." He says, correcting her.
"Glad to be of service." Irene smiles back at the teeth baring Tauron, before looking at each of the other marines in turn, Lyn, Aleksander and Tavo. The first she nods to and recognizes, "I know you've been in my bus, during the Canceron relief mission. Nice to see you again!" She offers gamely as she retreats. The second gets a polite smile, the third a larger one. "Pleased to meet you all. I imagine I'll be driving you guys somewhere at sometime in the raptor."
"A Leonese Princess?" Rothschild glances toward Tavo with an arched brow, and she starts to grin slightly at the awkward Scorpian. She either makes it better or worse by gently weaving her arm with his, offering him a gentle squeeze before she downs the last of her drink, and then sets it aside on a passing tray. She catches the departure of Lyn, glancing after her with a curious touch in her dark eyes, but then she looks back to the others. Davy's correction draws a snort from her, and she waves him off. "I have picture evidence that, that is not true, Davy... you are quite lucky that I think they got lost in transit from the Vanguard." The mention of driving Tavo around in a bus named Raptor draws an amused smile to her lips, but she spares the poor Scorpian.
A look over Aleksander and she pushes a hip out to one side, a hand placed determinedly on it. An eyebrow arches ever so slowly as the smile seems to have drifted off for now. "Well, I'll be. They give you that when you put in your request for metron of gig-line or was it the hundred metric per centare tape?" She pauses, giving it a solid moment with that expression before she can't hold it and her lips crack into a wide grin.
"I used to work for a living too." She adds in her final little tease before she glances back toward Tavo. She gives him a little crinkle of the nose as she catches the flush of color and has another sip from her flute.
"Maybe," Gage replies to Gustavo, clearly unconvinced by the other marine's logic. The waiter passing by with the tray is practically jumped on by the marine, as he dumps his empty bottle and grabs a fresh beer, with a grin of thanks. Downing three quick gulps, he glances towards Rothschild. "Oh, yeah. Davy has a thing for 'em." He's happy to throw his fellow Corporal under the bus, so to speak. A flicker of surprise as he regards Irene, "Didn't know you were a raptor pilot. Huh. Keep things smooth, I promise not to throw up in your bus," with a genuine grin.
After the awards ceremony, Charlie Wagner was one of those who stepped away to change. Which may have come as a surprise to her fellow recon ladies and even other marines. There may have been a glimpse of her and one Evan Calhoun heading to the beach once she had changed, but the two now return with the female of the pair in a white dress (https://photos.filmibeat.com/ph-big/2015/05/zoe-kravitz-cannes-film-festival-2015-day-2_1431669485110.jpg), her arm through his. One very notable thing is the rather new -- as in her skin is still quite red in places -- Scorpian-style tattoo on her upper back. The sort, well, that one does not tend to get unless they are part of a clan. Curious. The two walk close together, talking quietly and laughing now and then as they approach the main gathering of the Wolves still remainingon the grounds.
Tavo touches his left shoulder with two fingers of his drink-filled right hand at Irene's words, "If you can promise it won't fall out of the sky on me, sir, I'll thank you for it." When Rothschild weaves her arm into his, he blinks, then smiles over to her, nodding just a touch before her words register and he freezes. Gage saves him, and he nods his thanks. "But everybody knew that already," including the person who just introduced himself to Aleksander, if one is to believe Tavo. In this case, one should not believe Tavo. Faye's comment draws his attention back around and he raises his brows, "You're a mustang, sir? Nicely done."
"So the sergeant looked at me, dead serious and he says 'Son, have you ever killed anyone?'" Evan is apparently telling a story to Charlie as he walks with her. "I looked him right back in the eyes and said, 'Absolutely. I was the unit's cook.'" He at least finds it funny as the man laughs softly, walking in that close but not overly blatantly close fashion people sometimes adopt. Spotting a collection of Wolves, he nods in that direction and begins to move toward them.
Hearing of evidence, Aleksander freezes for a moment as he narrows his eyes at Rothschild, "Pictures? What pictures?" The scowl follows as he tugs at his collar again, listening to the conversation, his hand going to the chest pocket once more. This time he pulls out his pack of smokes, holding it in his hand for the time being as he knows he can't smoke here, but very much wants to. "I think I'm going to step outside for a moment."
Wait, why is Irene getting shorter all of a sudden? Slowly, slowly, until she's shoulder high to Faye and Dora (more or less). What's perhaps funnier is that her expression doesn't change, remaining warm and genial as she even continues talking as if she isn't shrinking at all. "I haven't fallen out of the sky onto any marines and I always keep it smooth. So you don't have to worry your heads about that." In the background, the Virgan officer she arrived with marches by, drinks in hand. He looks in the groups direction, but Dora is wearing a red dress too so he completely misses her. Camouflage! She straightens back up after a quick glance over her shoulder. Close one.
The Leonese woman is the one who spots Charlie and Evan, and she marvels at the sight of the two. She waves a hand to the pair, smiling as she does from where she stands with the ever-growing gaggle. She has claimed a second drink for herself, and is still arm-in-arm with Tavo. Or at least, for a second longer. She squeezes him as she releases so she can gently thump Aleks in the shoulder as he starts to withdraw. "Don't go too far, little brother. I require a dance."
Dora does catch sight of Irene, and she laughs lightly, but not loud enough to draw the attention of Irene's wayward date. She murmurs, "I think he's headed for the south wall."
The hand not through Evan's arm is holding a pair of sandals; Charlie wasn't going to walk on the beach wearing those. She snorts at the end of his story, but she's grinning nonetheless. "The idea of you cooking for an entire unit is terrifying." Dinner for two versus a dozen is a whole different kettle of fish. Literally. She looks up to the others, lifting a her sandals in greeting as she spots familiar faces. She allows Evan to guide them that way, but notes sidelong: "By the drink table. I could use some alcohol."
"Three year stint with a Libran Marine detachment, applied to the Naval academy and they accepted. I /was/ thinking of going Recon, but I got bit by the bug." A pull of her lips into a half-smile as she keeps her eyes on Tavo. I mean, he did make the comment after all. A sense of someone moving up next to her draws her attention away again. She turns her head to see her... Oh right! Her date! She takes the glass of white wine and holds it out for Irene -- it's almost like she had planned it from the start!
"Thank you." She responds with another smile, and then turns back to the conversation at hand -- namely Tavo. "Besides shoot, what do you do for a living?"
"Save one for me?" Gage tells Aleksander, with a grin at his fellow marine. He's still busy trying to down his newly acquired bottle of beer, and clearly enjoying it, too. "Good to hear," he replies to Irene, before squinting as she seems to... shrink? "Uh." He follows the glance Irene gives over her shoulder, and then grins, clearly entertained: "Bad breath? Too short for you? Grabby hands?" he guesses. Calhoun and Wagner receive a nod from the engineer as he spots them, too.
"Gage." Evan greets towards the man as he guides with Charlie towards the bar and passes nearby. A look is given to Charlie and the chuckle that follows is fully of amusement, "You want more booze? Didn't you learn from last night? Or is it to forget last night?" Even as he asks it though, the man peels away some to see to getting the woman a drink. "Anyone wanna fill us up on what's been happening?"
When he is told not to wander away too far, Aleksander can only roll his eyes at Rothschild, "I will try not to, sis. Though if I get spirited away by a Leonese Princess, it's not my fault." He then grins at Gage, shaking his head, "I won't smoke the whole back but if I'm out because a gaggle of pretty girls ask for them, they will take precedence over you, unfortunately." Then he waves to the group to step outside of the hotel so he can grab a smoke.
Tavo nods to Irene, evidently used to talking easily to people much shorter than him. The fact that he hunches his shoulders and slumps a little most of the time helps. "Good to hear." Her hiding draws a faintly confused look, but Rothschild and Gage's comments cause him to nod understanding. When Rothschild looses his arm, he takes a sip of his drink, stepping back a moment to get rid of his empty snack plate and then steps back into the group. Evan and Charlie get a nod as they approach, and then he's looking back to Faye, nodding as she explains. Her question gets a chuckle, and he responds, "Hump heavy loads." And then he explains, "I'm a gunner. Never even thought about Recon, but if someone Lindus's size can do it, maybe I should've."
"Godsdamn, he's handsome and his breath is so fresh but..." Irene begins, but holds the disaparagement to grin thankfully at Faye when she's been wined and Dora for the heads up. She double checks regardless, but the fine looking officer is well far afield by that point. She's safe, so continues, "I could just stab him. I mean, not really. Just figuratively, in the ear." She makes a vague shanking motion with a loose fist, thumb extended. Stab. Stab. "Anyway, pretend to not see me do this." This being tipping the wine back to down most of it in a single go. Maybe it'll keep her urge to stab down to a manageable level.
"Fair call," Gage replies to Aleksander, grinning. That's clearly not logic he can argue with. Irene's descriptive -- or rather, emotive description -- of her date's affect on her has Gage chuckling. "There's worse reactions to officers, so on balance, that's probably a measured response." To Calhoun: "Same old. Davion's trying to score himself a Leonese Princess, or get demoted, or both. Did Wagner," with a glance towards Charlie and a lift of brows as well as a sudden grin, "Find appropriate clothing for you in Picon? Never did hear."
Rothschild seems warmed by the response from Aleksander, and then she winks at him. "Fine then." Then she looks to Tavo, and gives his hip a small nudge. "You can also owe me a dance if you like." She then looks to Charlie and Evan, and Gage's words draw a faint lift a brow to the recon Marine. Curiosity is hard to hide.
Stepping into her sandals, Charlie sticks her tongue out at Evan. "It's because it's booze and Kobol knows when I'll get more." She makes a grabby hand motion at him. Booze. Now. She flashes a grin at Gage, "He has not yet," she opines, for the sake of all, "fulfilled his end of the bet. We may need to christen the lounge on the Dauntless with a fashion show."
A light laugh and a shake of her head from side-to-side as Faye hears what Tavo says in response to her question. A toss of her head that sends a flip of her hair away from an ear, then a sweep of a hand up to push it back behind it as the glass is taken from her hand. "Sounds about right. Nothing like long rucks and short breaks to make a great morning." A snort as she arches her crafted eyebrows, "Can't go wrong if it's what you wanna do."
It's about then that Faye sees Irene make the gesture and she stifles a laugh by drinking a little bit more of her champagne. Another shake of her head, "I can't say I disagree with you there." It's a murmured response and she turns back to look at her own date for a moment.
"But not you, you're lovely, thank you again for the champagne and the wine. You know, /if you want/, you can meander off to get something for yourself. Promise I won't hide." A crinkle of her nose and she turns back away. Faye's date sighs and starts off in a random directly, clearly thinking that he's just lost his date now that she's found other people to talk to.
Evan glances at Charlie and Gage, returning with some bottles of beer and a couple of shots; not knowing what folks may want. "I am pretty certain that at some point I've crawled into the wrong clothes this week. But if it makes her feel better." His shoulders lift into a shrug, "But like my pa always told me, never wager what you aren't afraid to lose. And never claim your winnings unless you're ready to pay."
Tavo finishes off his drink, smiling at Irene's complaints and chuckling, "Why would we not see you enjoying the festivities, sir?" He blinks at Rothschild's nudge of his hip, straightening up a touch in surprise. "Sure," and he's stymied for exactly what to call his fellow Staff Sergeant for a moment, settling awkwardly on, "Roths. I... uh, never really learned anything but the prom shuffle though." Faye gets another bit of attention then, and a nod, "Yeah. Raptor-rides are luxuries, as far as I'm concerned. The heel-and-toe express never crashes." Which is not a common Marine viewpoint. Looking back to Rothschild, he smiles easily, settling his good hand at her back lightly.
Bye Faye's date... byeeeee. Irene waves after him politely but rapidly loses interest after that. She just lifts her glass to her fellow pilot for a silent toast to ditching dates and slides up alongside close enough she can throw whispers her way and still be heard. "We'll have to sneak off to the bar after this." Nod. Her ear stays Faye-ward after that, but her eyes dance from the face to face. Charlie gets a longer moment of scrutiny and a smallish smile of recognition. Fingers are wiggled in her direction too.
A brief cough, before Gage grins knowingly at Charlie. "Sounds like a perfect christening plan for our new tin can." It's hard to tell whether that term is meant affectionately or otherwise, as he downs a mouthful of beer. At Evan's words, he asks, "Your pa played triad?" he guesses. "Do you?" he asks, with a sharp interest.
There's a flash of a smile for Irene, "Thanks for the gear," she offers to the woman, quickly. At Gage's query, the sniper snorts in amusement. "He loves triad," she chimes in. Taking a beer from Evan, Charlie settles in comfortably to drink. Alcohol is good.
Evan shakes his head a bit at Charlie as he sits in himself, beer in hand. "I play some Triad, mostly did it on deployments in the jungle with a few others. I usually play for amusement though, not blood like some people." A glance is given to Charlie. "I also know when to stop playing Triad so I don't end up making bets that result in... lifetime drawings."
"Alright, come along then," Roths says to Tavo with a small smile. She looks to the others, excusing herself politely so she can drag Tavo out on the dance floor.
A dip of her brows low as she stares back at Tavo for a second and then a light laugh as she shakes her head from side-to-side, "What? You're kidding me. I mean, they're /definitely/ a luxury, but I always loved the hot el zee exercises, and it definitely was a breath of the Gods to have that lift instead of a walk back to base." A sigh, a smirk caressing along her lips, "Maybe it was a good thing I went gold, huh?"
A flick of her eyes in Irene's direction and her smirk turning into a grin that slides widely, she turns her head to murmur back, "Shots?" The question posed with a glint her eyes that says she is hoping for a yes.
Rothschild's immediate request has Tavo's brows lifting in surprise, but he nods, "Okay." He offers Faye a chuckle and a nod, "Not kidding. I'm Army, sir, just wearing Marine khakis." Well, CF greys at the moment, but... that's beside the point. He nods an excuse to the rest of the group, then turns to join Rothschild, "I'm not complaining, but... I was serious about the prom shuffle..."
"Some Triad, uh-huh." Charlie just grins broadly over to Evan. "We need some regular card-playing on the Dauntless, bets or not. Though, Lords, something other than just laundry if we do bets. I swear, that is the most common bet you hear. Laundry. It's as if people don't know how to wash their own clothes." She takes a long drink of her beer. "Maybe head cleaning duty."
While Gage's brows go upwards at Evan's mention of lifetime drawings, he grins all the same. "Well, count me in for games. Blood or no blood, I like to keep my hand in it." He sneaks the last of his be-napkined snacks, washing it down with a mouthful of beer. "I'm up for anything," with a grin towards Charlie.
"All of the shots." Irene stage whispers to Faye in the affirmative, quickly polishing off the last finger of wine in her glass right after. With her media duties wrapped, her date lost in the crowd and the night coming on, she seems ready for a truly epic drunk befitting an officer of these colonial forces.
Something catches Evan's ears, he perks up a bit in his seat. "Did I hear someone say shots?" He glances around trying to find the source of the magic words before he looks at Charlie, "Hey, I don't bet laundry. I was wagering body shots last time and you were putting in like... foot massages or some shit."
"What?!" Charlie's voice pitches high and she kicks out at the back of Evan's leg. Right at the knee. "YOU put in the foot massages, you-" and here she says something choice and not very kind at all in Scorpian. Of course she's been learning the epithets as she's slowly learned the language. "Don't you dare put that on me!" She lifts her beer, then, looking to the rest. "Please, shots, for the love of all that is holy before I lose my mind over this godsdamned fool."
A flash of her lips into a wide smile and Faye quickly downs what's left of her champagne. The call of someone else trying to get in on their shots as her eyebrows dart up higher. She glances back, then quickly to Irene, "Gogogogogogogo!" She says in a hushes whisper, urging her to move first in the direction of bar.
"Quick! To the line up! I say we start with a flight deck and then go for a flameout." Mentioned the first being a line of shots meant to be done in quick succession, the second a shot that's /literally/ on fire when it's drunk.... with great alacrity.
"Don't know that I'm much into the foot massages, though I guess it depends who's doing it," Gage muses, with a sudden grin. Evan's mention of shots has him glancing around, watching with obvious amusement as Faye seeks to hustle Irene to the bar. "Shit. We going to let a pair of flyboys outdrink us?" he quirks a brow at Evan and Charlie as if to determine if they're in.
Running in the gown Irene is in is completely inadvisable and she's sober and savvy enough to not even try it. The risk is just too great. The gogogogogo only inspires a quick, graceful stride from her, one that propels the Virgan blonde neatly through and around the clumps of people lingering and mingling. She's polite, but ultra-determined. No one will stand in her way, not even her date, who she avoids with another shrinking act, keeping an admiral and his wife between her and his searching eyes.
Finishing his beer, Evan sets it down and pushes up from his chair. "No one outdrinks ... well, whatever the frak we are." With that he starts towards the bar trusting backup is with him. "Ladies," Evan introduces. "Poor enough for three thirsty Marines as well?"
"Never," Charlie opines to Gage as she follows suit in getting upright. The woman moves to follow Evan, beer in hand. "Surely," she calls out to the two pilots, "surely the Fleet has not run out of alcohol yet? They know how terribly thirsty we all get fighting toasters."
A cackle from the raven-haired pilot as she grabs lightly at her dress to flash her ankles and give her the ability to move in stride with Irene. She was also not in any hurry either, considering it was very much the same level of inadvisability... but she does tries to get there just a hair faster. Holding up her hand, "Two..." A pause, a look over to the three Marines, a raise of an eyebrow and she brings that hand down with a smack to the bar top. "Frak it! Right to the second half. 5 shots of the strongest you got and if it doesn't burn, I swear I'll make sure something else does!"
Faye reaches down into the front of her dress and pulls out a lighter, flicking it on as she raises an eyebrow in a threat to the bartender. A bartender who might've thought Faye was kidding, if it wasn't for the fact that the three Marines were there along with her and Irene.
"Jarheads. Leathernecks. Grunts." Gage is helpfully supplying Evan with options for what they are. Although that doesn't stop him falling into a helpful backup position behind Evan and Charlie all the same. He grins as Faye amends her order, saluting her with his beer bottle before he hastily downs it and sets the empty on the bar.
Irene almost busts a shoe on the way over, so Faye easily eats up her lead and overtakes her despite a momentarily hobble-burst of speed. If she was more the competitive sort she'd probably look crestfallen pulling up to the bar in second place, but she's really just a good natured munchkin at heart (the odd impulse to stab people now and again, aside) so she's smiling wide. "Oh. Yes. All of the shots." She's already lost the thread on the shot plan. All of them will do though, in any order.
As the shots are poured, Evan glances at Faye and the lighter in her hand. Reaching to his own pocket, he pulls out a silver case for cigars and sets it on the table. There's only four within it, so he hands one to each with the group; most likely intending to share with Charlie. "We drink, then we enjoy the victory. But be careful, these are... Scorpian Special."
The strongest part of Faye's order pleases Charlie, so the woman sidles up onto the bar alongside Evan. She cozies up to the Scorpian a bit to make sure there's room for others. Sure, that's why. We'll go with that story. There's a grin for the pilots. 'All the shots' ain't a bad idea, it'd seem, for the broad grin she flashes towards Irene. "So, Dauntless," she offers towards the others. "What do you all think of the name? Think it sounds lucky?"
"Dunno, to be honest -- never put much stock in a ship name besides the one I give my viper." A flash of a grin to Evan, Faye knows nothing about cigars as she accepts it with a nod and pops one end between her teeth. The shots are set down and she looks between them all. "Okay! Don't try to blow the damn thing out!" A pause, "Trust me."
She gives another flick of her eyes between the group, then clicks the lighter on, one at a time she lights them, grabbing her own by the bottom. Holds it up... because if you grab that sucker by the rim the glass is gonna heat fast. She takes the cigar from her mouth with the hand that's holding the lighter. "A toast. To new friends, new crewmates, and a new ship!" And she doesn't even pause for any hear-hears or acknowledgements before she's downing the shot as fast as humanly possible because she doesn't want it heating up anymore than it already has.
With a sharp exhale of appreciation, Gage is quick to claim one of the cigars offered up by Evan. "Man, we can bet for these anytime," he says, lifting it to his nose and breathing in deeply. Of their new ship's name: "Think it's meant to sound frightening to the Cylons. Doubt they'll notice, but." Apparently he could take-it or leave-it. "You name your viper?" he asks Faye with amusement. "What do you call her?" He reaches for one of the shots when they're set out, waiting for the thing to flame out. "And so say we all," he adds, after Faye's toast.
Irene grins like the cutest lune to ever lune, since the grins seem to be awful contagious amongst the group at the bar. Talking is largely put on hold when lighter starts setting fire to the shots, she merely holds hers up for the toast and then tips it back shortly after Faye does the same. She blows the heat out of her mouth with a long exhalation after and delicately picks up the cigar offered. A smile of thanks goes down the way, at everyone in the little group in turn. "Wuh." She adds, ever so intelligently, probably wondering if her tongue is supposed to feel burnt or not.
Evan throws down the shot, but only does so after using the flame to actually light the cigar. A good bite of the shot and he slams his fist on the bar nodding in approval. "That's some good shit there. What'd you call it?" He asks towards the pilot, bringing the cigar up to take a long puff of it before holding it out to Charlie. To note, these wonderful Scorpian Cigars are a pleasant blend of half tobacco and half some other herbs designed to 'enhance' the experience.
"What do you call your Viper after you crash it?" Charlie's met enough pilots to know this happens! Or heard enough stories. Even so, she picks up her shot and downs it easily. She's had flaming shots before! Marine, yo. She does shake her head slightly to clear it in the wake of the alcohol, reaching for the cigar as Evan offers it over. She seems familiar with the type, having likely shared one with him before. After a couple puffs, she hands it back over before leaning to call for another round of the shots.
TACK! The bottom of the shot glass hits the bar top from Faye as she looks around at the others with a wide grin. A laugh as she hears Evan give his call of approval to the shot. She arches a crafted brow, crafted for this freaking party that she's going to enjoy damn it! "In the Libran Navy we called it a Flameout. Pilot drink, we used to make all the nuggets do it right out of flight school. That and sing such great songs as ''I'm a pilot'' and ''The Wingmen.''"
Faye gives a shift of her shoulders, one popping up higher than the other as she pops the cigar back into her mouth and lights it with the lighter still in her hand. A couple puffs as she crinkles her nose in the direction of Charlie. "Nancy. Because chances are she was nagging me so much the only thing I wanted her to do was shut up and let me fly."
Downing his shot, Gage breathes out heavily for a moment, nodding in mute approval. His voice is a little rougher with the alcohol as he says, "That some fancy Leonese drink?" because setting alcohol on fire is a tad bemusing to the Tauron. He grunts when Faye claims it as Libran, though he does seem to approve, judging by his nod. While the marine doesn't light his cigar, tucking it away for later, apparently. He snorts with amusement at Charlie's words. "I name my gun, too. Helps when I have to curse her for jammin' or running out of bullets when I need them." Because both clearly the gun's fault. "Nancy's not bad. You name your bird, too?" he asks Irene.
Irene is so happily engrossed in bar time fun time, that she fails to see her date finally lock eyes on her and move to intercept with the precision and alacricity befitting such a smartly attired Virgon Royal Navy officer. It's almost as if he's finally cottoned on to the fact that she's been dodging him, successfully, since she asked him for a drink quite a few minutes ago now. Unaware, she lifts her cigar tentatively to her nose for a smell, mimicking Gage but with a less certain reaction to it. She's game though, enough to try lighting it and watching the smoke curl from the end lazily. "Sometimes, but we were on rotation on the Vanguard. Someone was calling one Fifi, I heard. There was one I busted up really badly, I called it Frakass mostly... but it got me home so-" There's a hand suddenly on her shoulder, a firm one attached to her date who says in the snootiest of Virgon accents, "Irene, love. The Ambassador is dying to see you and the Minister of Defence requested your company..." He makes it sound like a suggestion, but it very much is a command. The lieutenant knows when she's beat, "Fine. Sorry, guys. I'll see you around. Bye..."
Evan takes another long puff of his cigar before he leans off the bar himself. "Hold down the fort?" He asks towards Gage and Faye, watching as Irene slips away a bit. "I promised Wagner here I'd dance with her some and if I don't hold up my promises I usually end up paying for it."
There's a bit of a perking up when Gage mentions that he's named his gun and Charlie leans his way after reclaiming the cigar once more from Evan. "What'd you name yours? My rifle-" that rather unique sniper rifle that she practically (and sometimes literally) sleeps with, "is named Sasha." She looks towards Evan before flashing a grin back to the others as she steps from the bar. There's a sort of wink tossed their way before she grabs her beer to down he rest and step up alongside the Scorpian marine. The cigar is likely passed back and forth as the two make their way off.
Irene gets a sympathetic (okay, not really, it was only half-so) frown as Faye orders up some more shots. This time, not so flaming style as she starts singing a little off-key (Faye's not much of a singer) "Ha-a-as anyone seen my wingman? I'm sure she's in a hell of a fi-i-ix. I've scanned all through the sky, but I needn't use my eyes, 'cuz the frakker always fli-i-es at my-y-y dead si-i-ix." And she winks to the other pilot and downs another shot with a cackle to wrap it up and a crinkle of her nose.
The pilot turns back to the others, offering a raised hand toward the ones who are leaving and finally settles her gaze back on Gage, "Frak no it's not. Nagging Nancy. She even got me home with the crew frakked up my tyl load."
There's somewhat of a smirk of appreciation from Gage at Irene's naming, though, "Remind me which one is Frakass, so I know to strap myself down tightly next time I ride in her." Irene's apologies are met with a nod of head, and something that might be sympathetic but probably not -- he has no such obligations. "Catrin. It's an old Tauran name." He answers Charlie, without a trace of embarrassment. "Enjoy," he tells Calhoun, as he eyes the next round of shots -- five for two people -- then Faye. "Rock paper scissors for who gets the odd drink?" Because clearly, drinking more is the reward. With a wry twitch of lips to the remaining pilot, he says, "Let me guess, you were a singer before the war?"
"Pffft." Faye says as she picks up the second and third one, putting the odd one down in front of the Marine. "You get this one, I get next." She says with a flare of one of those crafted brows again. She wiggles her shoulders up and down in a little seat-dance as she holds up the shot. Clearing her throat she starts in, a pause as she lowers it for a second, "Why thank you, but my shitty singing is reserved only for the service."
She raises the glass up again and looks toward it, her mouth pulling off to one side, "To all those pilots who wish they had dual KEWs." A little more raise of the shot, "Sucks to be you!" and she downs the shot, setting the glass down hard on the bar top with another TACK!
A light cough, "You get the next toast... after you finish your round of 3!"
Well, Gage isn't one to argue with a pretty, forceful officer. No, wait, he totally is. "You talking about the shot, or the tab? Because I might've been promoted, but I'm still just a lowly, grunt, Corporal, y'know? Aint got a sweet paycheck like you officers." he grins at Faye, hopefully, while he downs the first shot in front of him. He's not quite sure about Faye's toast, but she's setting a trend, and so when he lifts his second glass, he says, "To all those marines who think they're hot shit and then snore loudly when you're stuck on night watch... frak you." That's in line with what she's doing right? He'll down his shot enthusiastically, either way.
A cackle as she hears his toast, "FRAK YOU!" She shouts and signals for another round... she was already one up on the grunt. A flash of a smile toward the man and she crinkles her nose again, "I gave an eye dee ten tee form to a private for that frakin' crap." Faye adds to his toast with a shake of her head. She reaches a hand up, sweeping a hand up to brush her hair back behind her ear. The jukebox in her mind flicking from one song to another, debating but eventually dismissing another song for now. No... No there would be more nights and drinks for ''I Wanna Take Off from a Battlestar''.
A cough and she brings the cigar up to puff on it a few times before glancing back at Gage, "So what the hells do you do in the Marines anyway? Clearly you aren't Intel... you look like you actually pay attention to what's around you." And the next round of shots shows up.
"Frak me. You're one frightening lady," one gets the distinct feeling that that's a compliment, coming from Gage, especially with the way he's eyeing her appreciatively. Or maybe he's just trying to convince her to pick up the tab. He still has that third glass, which he downs while she's ordering more shots, with the toast, "Frak you, bus drivers who veer all over space like they're drunk while I've got concussion from a rocket blowing up the tree I was hiding behind." He slams the glass back down onto the bar, then gives the viper pilot a broad smile; he clearly loves his job: "I blow shit up, mostly. Bridges, buildings, tunnels. But mostly cylons, they're the most satisfying."
The lady in the silver dress lets out a long sigh as she gives another wiggle as she arranges three shots in front of herself and then nudges the two others in Gage's direction. A wide grin still sliding along her lips as she eyes the first one. "Well," She starts, "Dunno if you heard when I said it earlier, but I did a tour as a Marine before the war." She picks up the first shot, looking it over as she holds it up high. She looks up through the brown liquid.
"To all your frakkers who's idea of the right thing to do, was to do exactly what the dee eye said /not/ to!" And she lets the shot drop and downs it in a gulp before letting it smack back down on the bar top with another exhale and a laugh. "This one guy. Sarge says... keep your frakin' mask on after you clear the mask. What's he do? Clears the mask, takes one breath, gets the residual bit of gas in there and yanks the damn thing off!"
Gage's brows go up in clear surprise. "Didn't," he allows. "But now I know exactly why you sound so appealingly frightening," he adds, wryly. "Why'd you switch?" he asks, brow furrowed, as he pulls those two shots towards him. He gives a snort of amusement at her next toast, and seems to take a moment before he makes his own, "A bit frak you to the Caprican <<sister-lover>> who thought sending a combat engineer to scout instead of a recon would be a grand idea." His lapse into Tauron is accompanied by a grunt, before he downs his own shot. "Earned my first sacrifice medal that day."
A snerk as she crinkles her nose at him and his toast. An arch of a brow as she thinks about what he said, a little wiggle and a nod of her head, "Hear-hear!" She adds with another flash of a smile. She looks down to her shots, picking up the next one, another reflexive sweep of her hand to pull the hair back behind an ear.
A snort and she shakes her head from side-to-side after, "As for your question-" She picks up the shot and turns it a bit. "Whelp, I was comin' up on my third year. Guy I knew took me up in a trainer and I frakin' loved it. I mean... that was it. So, after I landed, I started the paperwork for the Academy. Got my see oh to sign off on it, had the right marks, took some college classes to round it out and..." A flick of her eyes over to him.
"Boop! In the Naval Academy I go. Funny enough, I was actually thinking about recon if the application didn't pan out." She puts the edge of the shot glass to her mouth and tips it back. Leaving only one left in front of her from this round.
Faye receives a particularly bemused sort of look from Gage, especially at her descriptive 'boop' being her admittance to naval academy. "Being up in a tiny tin can, no protection, ugh. Not for me," the marine declares. "Even Vanguard was a tad on the small side for my liking. Thankfully the Dauntless isn't as bitty. Hopefully enough room to run the halls rather than just on the treadmill. Aint the same, not getting to stretch your legs in that way." His lips twitch, and he half turns to regard the crowd behind him. "Okay, miss-almost-recon. I'll give you ten seconds to check out the crowd, then turn back, and I'll ask questions to find out how well you picked up everything."
A snort, "/Thinking/ about, no way in frakin' hell was I almost!" Faye says, leaning toward the bar top some as she looks toward him some. A shake of her head from side-to-side as she lets out a laugh again. She reaches the hand down to pick up the last one. A little bemused smile slinging across her features then.
"/Fine/." She adds with a dry tone that carries amusement buried within. A turn of her head as she looks out at the crowd. "But if I get them right, you pay for the drinks, Marine!" A flash of a smile. Oh that's right. The bet is /on/... and Faye is a hair tipsy.
"Frak. You're determined to send me broke?" But Gage isn't one to refuse a bet, despite his obvious grumble. "Fine, then," with a gradual grin as he accepts the challenge. He counts, finger tapping against the bar while the pilot regards the crowd. "Time's up," he declares. Maybe he's a bit of a secret softy; he gave her eleven seconds. "All right. Tell me how many women in red dresses, and roughly where they're standing in the room."
Gage realizes his mistake. Asking a fashion-related question of a woman with obvious interest in -- or at least knowledge of -- fashion. He grimaces, reluctantly giving up the win, "Fine. Though the one by the entrance was more orange than red, I think." But what does he know, he's just a grunt, not a fashion critic. He slams down his last shot, eyeing the new glasses with somewhat of a resentment, because they're less fun when he's paying for them. "Make it an even six," he tells the bartender, after a moment.
A flash of a smile toward the man and she leans in to say in, very much, a stage/drunk whispers, "Hey... /Heeey/ Marine -- because I don't remember your name right now -- drinks are on the fleet. Shhhhh." A quick glance around as if this was a measure of conspiracy that's tantamount to top secret information. A slow nod and she takes the extra shot again, pushing him just two once more. It was her turn for three right? This was... number... 4? How many shots did she have.
Faye takes another couple puffs on the cigar that was nearly out. She considers that for a moment. Four. Definitely four viper's she's flown in. Wait... Was that what she was counting? The eyes whip back toward Gage and she accosts him, "Hey, what was I just thinking about, I forget?"
If Gage's put off by the fact that she doesn't remember his name, well. Chances are good he doesn't remember hers, either. That, or the news that his wallet won't be hit with the hefty tab of shots they've racked up more than makes up for it. "Frak," he says, eyeing her sidelong. "What's the point of a bet that doesn't mean anything?" he looks grumpy. Clearly the man likes an honest bet. Or at least a bet worth winning. He downs the first shot that lands. "Uh. You were thinking, what a great guy this is, planning to shout you all these shots even though he didn't know they were free. Also, handsome. Great chin." He lifts said chin, running a hand over his jawline, grinning. "Pretty sure."
A gesture of a finger in a sort of circular gesture that ends with her pointing toward his noise, "Y-y-y-you, are pushin' your luck." She says with another little wiggle as she picks up the next shot glass. She looks at the bartender through the amber liquid as she adds, "/Buuuut/ that is why I told you the drinks were free. Wouldn't do to have you mopin' about because I got lucky with the bet. 'sides..." A shrug of her shoulders and a cant of her head as her eyes lazily whip in Gage's direction.
"If I had lost I /would've/ actually bought you a shot. I heard the top shelf stuff still costs. This-s-stuffs-s just swill by comparison." And then the next shot was moved to her lips, tilts, and she downs it.
"I like to gamble, what can I say," Gage is unrepentant, lifting and dropping his shoulder in a smooth motion as he downs the next shot, looking to at least keep pace with her so has not to disgrace himself, or the marines in general. He regards Faye for a moment at her words, then gestures towards the bartender. "Two shots of the best stuff you've got. On me." He taps the glass of the third shot that's still waiting: got to drink the bad stuff before the good, not after. Down that goes, too. "Ought to pay one's debts. Drink your swill, the good stuff's coming."
A clearing of her throat, with a hand to cover her mouth. She sets the cigar down careful-catches it, carefully. A pause to make sure it's going to stay, a point at it, "Stay." She says to it, forcefully. The green eyes turn harder as she turns them on the other man, her smile going away as she looks far more stern, the Marine from before used to dealing with yelling sergeants and incompetent officers. She picks up a shot glass in each hand. Stares some more at Gage.
"Hoorah!" And Boom! One shot, STAK! Two shots, CLAK-tok-roll-roll-roll-roll---tink-pok! She throws up her arms in victory over the booze that /really/ wasn't that bad. It just wasn't top shelf stuff either. A hard exhale.
"Woo!" She exclaims.
It's habit. A habit that's hard to break, for Gage, whose "HOORAH!" is enthusiastic enough by its drunken self, not to mention the echoes that go up here and there from other marines still nearby. It makes the marine grin, dark eyes shining. "Once a marine, always a marine." He states, with an approving nod for her. And then the drinks come. It doesn't look all that special, one glass for each of them. Gage squints at it, then the bartender. He wouldn't stiff the CF, but maybe a slow marine? Nahhh. He lifts his glass, intending to clink it with Faye's. "To new friends," with a grin, before he downs the shot, eyes closed. Ahhhh. The good stuff.
"To new friends!" Faye echoes as she dinks the glass back against Gage's. A smile spreading along her lips once more with a flash of white teeth. The other hand moving to pick up the cigar again as she takes a little sip... savors, then downs the rest of it with a quick tip and a fast drink. She promptly sets the glass back down hard.
"May we live through this mess, or die before we're made an ass!" She adds as she continues to grin widely and pulls the cigar up. Another couple puffs as she adds, "S'this-s-stuff anyway? It's-s funny taste." She gestures with the cigar.
Gage's "And so say we all," that tags on the end of her addition is fervent enough. "Some special Scorpian thing, I imagine. I'll ask Calhoun... later." If he remembers, which he probably won't. He seems to be having trouble focusing, or at least focusing for long, reaching for his own unlit cigar, then forgetting a moment later. He pushes to his feet, abruptly. "Walk you home?" he offers to Faye, looking super serious. He's not specific about which home.
"Okay!" Faye says as she too pushes herself back from the bar, puts a foot... stops. Pulls off her heels, then puts her feet on the ground as she lets out a laugh holding up the heels. One in each hand, "I wass gonna try ta walksinese. Nots a good idea." She sets the cigar back down on the bar then and grabs a shoe in each hand forgetting about the cigar.
"M'kay. Ready?" She asks, looking at him, and either way, she turns about in a full circle and nods her head, "We're here!" She gestures one heel toward the build- pause - toward the building!
"My place!" A nod.
When Gage sees how unsteady she is at first, he reaches a hand out to help steady her, grinning when she goes barefoot. He leans close, murmurs: "If I puke in the bushes, hold my hair back?" He takes a couple of steps, before he squints at her circle-turning. He grins, abruptly. "Lead the way." He looks relatively even of foot, though his attention is all over the place. Her, the bar, the crowd, her again, some of those dancing couples, her again, the door.
A snort as she shakes her head, "Yeah-yeah... Imma got you cvred." A nod of her head soon after and she glances about.
"Alright marine." She grabs the bottom hem of her dress, pulling it up to make walking a lot easier on her. "Less-go. Where ya stayn? Wheel both crash there." A flash of a smile to the man, and a plan to take a taxi back here after. Always watch out for your own after all.
Gage seems confused. Or drunk, or both, at least momentarily. "Uh. Base." He's not well off enough to check into his own hotel room, it seems. "This way!" he points at the door. "Oops. You should lead. Recon-girl. Almost recon-girl," he grins at her. "I'll watch your rear." A beat. "The rear."
A snort as she instead laces an arm under his and over the far shoulder, bumping her own up several times till his falls at least somewhat close to her shoulder. A glance over to the man as she lets out another laugh and adds, "Ycan watch tha r-r-rear next time." A nod and she starts off with the man in a sort of half-stumbling gait herself. But four legs is better than 2 -- right?