2237-09-12 - Wolves On The Prowl

Inter-colonial tensions boil over during a CF celebration in a local bar.

Date: 2237-09-12

Location: Lazy Mushroom

Related Scenes: 2237-09-14 - Pressure Valve

Plot: None

Scene Number: 507

Jump to End

Near every military base, there lies a subnetwork of places that the military enjoy leaving to come to. Military Friendly, but not in the thick of it proper. The bar known affectionately as 'The Lazy Mushroom' - was one of the popular bars that were available. It is also the place now finding itself inundated with Timber Wolves and Capricans alike. There was even a few tables the Timber Wolves had claimed so that they could come to to hang out on their evenings off. Tonight at least one of those tables is being used to celebrate the Wolves pilots who recently made ace - though the party isn't exclusive to pilots, all Wolves are welcome.

There to celebrate the good fortune of the pilots is Captain Elena Imbros. The tall, athletic woman is in a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt with the logo for the C-Bucs on it. Her dogtags and the company she keeps clearly mark her as a Wolf, however. She is sitting at the table with a beer in hand, her hair up in a high ponytail, looking relaxed.

Geoff is on his cheap phone, talking to someone while he hovers near the bar. "Well don't frakkin' come, then," he says, sounding irritated. "Fine. Right, next time. Cuz this is a pleasure cruise, not a frakkin' war. Whatever." He hangs up and motions to the bartender for a refill before pounding the remainder of his drink.

In BDUs and dual-tanks, Charlie is definitely playing the part of off-duty marine tonight. Her dog-tags hang at her chest and her box-braids have been gathered into a sloppy psuedo-bun at the back of her head, a few fallen free to fall around her features. The trou aren't properly bloused, but her boots have been properly laced for every so often, Evan Calhoun has dragged her away from the table to dance when a song that the redneck Scorpian doesn't hate overmuch comes on to play. He's gone off to retrieve a pitcher of beer while they take a break and the sniper grabs a chair to turn around and drop into, picking up her cool, condensation-covered glass a bit breathlessly after the last spin 'round the floor. She lifts it to press against the fresh tattoo on her upper arm, cooling the mildly aggravated skin. Circles, like chains limned into her flesh. Twelve of them, with a few filled in with symbols of the colonies she's fought on so far: Tauron, Canceron, Picon, and now Caprica.

Gage generally isn't one to hang out at pilot's parties. It might just be a coincidence that he picked this, of all bars, to head to once he went off duty -- then again, maybe not. He's dressed in his usual casual fare -- khaki's and t-shirt bearing Tauron's colors -- fronting up to the bar. He's spotted the table of Wolves, but a drink first is in order. "Courtois," the other marine receives a nod, before he tacks onto Geoff's gesture to the bartender with, "Your best Tauron beer." Do they even have Tauron beer? Surely he'll find out soon enough.

Sitting at one of the Wolves tables is a face that might be unfamiliar to some. Sarice has ditched her greens and lab coat for the off-duty sweats and then the long-shirt and over-tank. She is nursing some sort of drink, that is probably non-alcoholic. Nursing, so to say, due to the fact that she has a ball of bright orange yarn sitting on the table in front of her, and she's casually drinking in the ambiance while knitting something that involves a round edge. Probably a sock.

Stirling was over at the table with the other Wolves, celebrating with the air wing. Now she's wandered over to the bar to speak to the bartender about something for their table. The CAG is clearly in off-duty mode, with her hair down, and tasteful jeans and maroon top.

Donny heard there was celebrations- and that means an excuse to drink. So, he'd naturally show up. He slips out of the washroom, flicking his wrists a bit to toss of a bit of water that the blow dryer didn't get off. He comes up to the Wolf claimed table and pulls out the chair before sitting down with a sniff. "So uh- dumb question, but who're the aces we're drinkin' to?" he asks, with glances left and right around the table.

All right, who invited the chaplain? Someone must have, because he's here! In uniform and everything, even, though he's less buttoned up than usual, at least. He looks a little tentative when he first steps in, but he relaxes when he sees the large crowd of Wolves already present, and heads for the bar. "Everyone!" That's the best he can do for a greeting before he waves to the bartender for a beer, in his turn.

Erin eventually shows up. She's been out-of-pocket, it seems, for a lot of the training mission. Maybe she's been working out a lot: she looks like she's put on muscle weight over the past month. Maybe she's been training hard: she looks a little more confident. Chances are, she's been stealing things: she has a shit-eating grin on her face that means she's either drunk already or has completed her contraband stash for her next sortie on the Dauntless.

"Hey, Rooster!" The recon Marine tries to get Donny's attention with a wave. "Rooster!" But the bar has filled up substantially, and there's noise, and she's kind of short. "Rooster!"

Another off duty marine, also in BDU's and the dual tanks (which on a guy his size almost doesn't qualify as a shirt really), is Chance Daly. Chance has just arrived, moving into the bar at a slow, even pace. His head bobs a few times to the music playing, and then he moves off towards the bar. He motions one of the bartenders over when he arrives, waiting his turn. "Water." he says. The bartender nods, pours him an ice water and delivers it. Chance turns, back against the bartop, sipping his water as he surveys the crowd.

"Iris and Bingo made ace," Elena notes to Donny, tipping her beer bottle towards him in greeting. She's slouched down in her chair, with her feet crossed at the ankles, making her look less Amazonian.

Ines has totally been here, honest. She was just in the bathroom, which is where young women seem to spend at least a quarter of their time out at bars once they've had a drink or two. But Correa is still, as is almost always the case in her duty fatigues, worn in a way that says very clearly she's not on duty. She's not wearing cosmetics that need refreshing. Her hair looks fine. She was in there for twenty minutes. So why?
Staring, wide-eyed, at a woman with running mascara and .10 more BAC than she ought to, with a deep need to talk about the myriad ways in which her relationship is actively falling apart.
When she does finally escape, Ines still has a bit of the deer-in-headlights look. Where did she leave her drink?

The bartender looks at Gage dryly. "Tauron beer? Little far from Tauron aren't you?" He gestures lazily to the beer taps. "Just what you see, pal." He also lists some bottled stuff.

Irene is one of the freshly minted ace pilots, a feat considering she exclusively flies a raptor, so she's at the mentioned party table for such. She's not quite falling down drunk, but she's got a shine on if her level of animation and smile intensity is anything to go by. So far, she's stayed upright in her chair, but she's anchored herself with an arm over the back. "... then we clipped a comm tower." She says, dropping the end of her story about some adventure she had back in the Virgon Royal Navy. Hard to say if anyone is listening, or if she started it and just rambled on until it was over. Like most of the others, she's in full off duty mode, wearing a soft green hoodie, worn in jeans, sneaks and the neon pink tourist sunglasses she hasn't lost yet. She's had them since Argentum Bay, so it's a record for her. She also has a little silver videocamera she fiddles with absently, as though she's forgotten how it works, or never actually knew and is trying to figure it out.

At the bar, a Caprican - a soldier judging from his haircut, an officer judging by his expensive watch - snorts and says to his pal. "I don't know what's worse about these CF blokes. That they mix their officers and enlisted, or that they have Taurons." Totally loud enough for Gage and those near him to hear.

Donny nods to Elena, "Alright, cool- I'll be sure to toast 'em when I get shit-faced." he says with a wide, growing grin. Then he realizes something with that said, and looks around in front of himself. "..Guess I'll need a drink for that." he says, standing up from his seat once again as he holds up a digit, "Sec'." He's turning over to get ready to make his way through the crowd before he -thinks- he hears someone calling him. Donny stops, looking left and then looking right, "Yeah?" he calls out, raising his voice a bit before he hears it again. Squinting, he begins to wade through the growing crowd with a bump here and there and a "Oops," and "S'cuse me." to go with them. Finally, he hears his callsign close up and breeches the crowd to find Erin, "Here we go- s'up, Chilly?"

Geoff looks over at Gage and nods, getting his clear drink from the bartender. "What's going on tonight?" he asks. "And who's the most likely one to bum a drink off of in here?" he looks over Gage's shoulder, scowling at the fellow Caprican behind him. "Why don't you shut the frak up?"

The chaplain receives a nod from Gage by way of welcome when he nears the bar. "Chaplain. Aint seen Arda about yet." Because he's making assumptions, of course! Chance's order of water earns a bemused look, too, from the combat engineer, but he's distracted from comment by the bartender's response. "Aint here by choice, friend," just a little emphasis on the last, with a twist of lips. "Aint my fault you're taste in beer is so pissweak." He gestures to one of the brands on tap, however. Apparently he'll settle for Caprican beer when there's little choice. While he's waiting for his beer, his head turns. Oh yeah, he heard that comment from the Caprican officer, turning fully and grinning. "Frak. They let Capricans in after they started this whole war -- guess they'll let anyone in."

"You know what's worse, someone thinking that mixing the officers and enlisted especially when it comes to an elite task force is a bad idea. We're supposed to have each others backs, after all, no matter, no matter where, no matter when, no matter what colony." Sarice muses, keeping her eyes on her knitting. "But, hey, good ideas - who ever listens to that, right little sock? I hope I'm making you big enough."

Elena gives a small wave to the Chaplain and Geoff, recognizing her drinking buddies from a few days back. She hears raised voices coming from the bar area, and she stops slouching so much in her seat, sipping from her beer bottle and eyeing the Caprican officer. She might even know him.

Al's brows shoot up as he overhears that not-so-quiet comment and glances over at the Caprican fellow. Looks him down. Looks him up. Then dismisses him with the kind of vague contempt that the Gemenese are famous for, but which Aldrich has pretty seldom displayed (at least in public). He says nothing, and focuses his attention on Gage instead, with a tight smile. "Yeah, I think she pulled the short straw or something, because she's on duty." He clears his throat, and dodges out of the way to avoid being the middle of whatever is brewing between the Capricans and the CFs. He just came for the beer, k.

As one of the local Capricans, Paige is also one that has recently made Ace. She's been quiet for the most part, listening to the conversation and smiling polietly at Irene's story before giving a small laugh at the end of it. "It sounds like it was quite the thrill, Iris." the ECO offers before she hears the raised conversation and moves just a little further back. She's the double whammy of Caprican and Graystone. Instead, her attention drifts to Ines, and Paige mutters soto to Irene. "We should invite her over. She's always in her off-duty. Do you think she could use some help with clothing? I mean, I don't think she's quite my size, but maybe?" She lifts a hand in Ines in invitation. Much like the pilot, the ECO is dressed down in a sweater style knit short-sleeve shirt and courdoroy jeans, with soft leather boots set on her feet.

"Rooster!" Erin holds out a hand to fist-bump Donny. Presuming he does so -- don't leave a babe hangin'! -- she bounces on her heels and balls of her feet. "Wow, look at this crowd! I think it's great. Why don't they throw parties for us?" She snaps her fingers. "Ah, right, because no one does shit for recon Marines, am I right?"

She laughs merrily, and nudges Donny with an elbow. "You seen Specs around?" Specs = Spectre = Chuck = Charlie, probably. "Or Ghosty?" She pushes her hands into her pockets. "Think I need to do at least five shots with them, y'know? For old time's sake."

A glance is spared by Sergeant Daly for Gage and his attempt to get decent beer. Given that he's drinking water, perhaps he had some want for a Scorpian beverage. Or maybe he just doesn't drink. He eyes the Caprican, brow arched a bit. At least they didn't mock his colony, or he'd start throwing people around the bar. "This Caprican tripe is undrinkable." he comments to Gage.

Ines sails right past the volatile situation unfolding at the bar, smile wide and oblivious. She's spotted her drink, and once she plucks it up off of the table she was sitting at, she catches Paige's wave out of the corner of her eye and makes for the pilot table instead. Slides sideways into a chair with enough enthusiasm that it wobbles, too. "You'd better be really sure you've got to go, before you go in there," she informs Irene and Paige, picking up her glass and gesturing at the shadowy corner containing the restrooms. "It's like an ovarian bomb went off in there."
The drink is frozen, and fruity. Extremely girly. Highly unnatural colors, melon and red.

Spectre is, indeed, around. She's at a table with the pilots, blissfully unaware of the nasty comments being made in regards to her fellow marines thus far. Nope, Charlie is just downing her glass of beer while she leans on the back of the chair she's straddling while cooling down from the last dance. The empty glass is set -- nigh tossed -- onto the table as she takes in a deep breath and leans to look at the bar. Likely trying to gauge how long until the next round shows.

"Why, is it scary in the bathroom?" Elena asks Ines with a brow arched. "Or is the line just epically long?" She isn't looking at the other woman her eyes are on the situation unfolding at the bar. "I might know that jackass smack talking up there," she murmurs to Paige, in regards to the Caprican officer. The blonde cracks her knuckles ominously. "He may have grabbed my ass in flight school." He may not have either.

Irene seems to have figured out her camera so lifts it up and holds it out, trying to get a shot of the cake. Ace cake! The best kind. As Paige speaks, she tracks the camera over to her and zooms in on a nostril, and then back out again. "Who?" She looks up from the display and tries to figure out who Grayston is talking about. It isn't hard, not when Ines drops into a chair nearby. Perfect! She'll put the camera on her too. "Must be marines. Pilots have steel bladders. Smiiiiile!" She does. "We've decided to take you shopping, Kestrel. Be prepared!" There's no hints or tips from her on how that might be done, mostly because she moves one, trying to include everyone in her movie, from knuckle cracking Elena to blissfully unaware Charlie.

Geoff frowns at Gage, too. "What, you wanna be as bad as this Apollo Street snotrag?" he asks, pausing to drink. "We're all supposed to be on the same frakkin' side." He juts his chin at the Caprican officer. "I was planetside a few weeks ago and Caprica did not have this shit in hand. Had Cap City friends evacuating all over the place. Caprica needed help, now you wanna complain about it?" His gaze snaps to Chance. "You wanna start in on Caprica, too?" Apparently he's ready to go against all sides of this fight.

A chuckle rises from Donny as he shrugs, "Either that or they don't wanna deal with th' bill we'd end up with.". Donny curls his hand into a loose fist and bumps it agains Erin's- he wouldn't dare leave another marine hanging!
"Yeah- Spec's back at th' table." he says with a thumb pointed over his shoulder, "Or she's dancin' again.. I dunno, I'm too sober to remember anything." When shots are mentioned, he holds up a digit, "I'm 'bout to get a drink, don't you start any shots without me!" he says, and with that is wading right back into the crowds. Fortunately for Donny, he's oblivious to any rising hostilities as he goes to get a drink that'll leave him puking later in then ight.

The Caprican officer - let's call him WatchMan - sneers at Gage's response. "You hear that? He ain't here by choice. Well guess what, friend, you ain't here by our choice either. So how about you shut the frak up," is lobbied at Geoff.

His buddy overhears Sarice's remark and snorts. "'Elite' my ass. Everyone knows you're all just a PR stunt. Pretty faces in uniform." He nudges his bud. "She's frakking knitting for frak's sake."

Stirling, at the bar, sees the brewing trouble between her countrymen and fellow CF soldiers and shifts position down the bar so she's standing near Gage and WatchMan. "Back off," she tells WatchMan. "We're all on the same side here."

"Let me go help you get some of those shots," suggests Erin merrily, bouncing a step behind Donny to the bar. Like him, she seems oblivious to the argument on the other side of the bar. Seems. She may just be spying from afar with her Nosey Chick Radar(TM). You know, the sort of thing that coincidental bitchy-cats employ to be at the right place at the wrong time to snapsnap in some poor fool's face. Mm-hmmm.

The pitcher of beer in hand, Evan finally finished managing to pay for the brew and is making his way back to the table where Charlie is at when he catches some of the conversation. A moment of thought is given but then he simply shakes his head and continues his walk to settle down in a chair near the other Marine. "Remember what I was saying earlier about purpose?" There's an amused 'I told you so' look to his expression as he starts to fill glasses for those at the table.

"Yeah, it is," Gage's agreement with Chance's casual comment is pretty vehement. "But when you're in a desert, you drink piss, y'know?" Conveniently, his beer is arriving, and he tosses down a mouthful with an exaggerated grimace, presumably at the taste, then starts pouring some out -- some of it splashing, probably by no coincidence -- onto the Caprican officer's shiny boots. Geoff's reaction gets a flat sort of look from Gage. "Aint anything but honest, Courtois." And while he might be willing to go up against his fellow Caprican marine, it's a different story when they're facing a mutual enemy, for him at least: "Least he's man enough to help out other colonies, make up for what y'all frakked up in the first place." His gaze slants towards Stirling, but his gaze quickly snaps back to the Capricans.

"Look, if you want to question my knitting, why don't you come meet the edge of one of my knitting needles?" Sarice asks, mildly. She hasn't looked up yet, still focusing on her hand movement, but she is pretty good at the whole multi-tasking thing. "I'd love to teach you how to knit, after all. It calms me down, and occupies my hand, and works on my own reflexes, which is pretty damn important as a doctor, allied with the Timber Wolves or not." She's pretty chill while saying this - one learns to deliver bad news, scathing remarks, or the like without breaking face.

Suddenly, camera. Ines blinks at it, then crosses her eyes, squishes the end of her nose with one fingertip, sucks in her cheeks for fish-lips. Not camera shy, then. "Terrifying," she answers Elena in an almost toneless murmur. "If you're the kind of person who expects to find themselves on the far side of forty-five, chasing after and being rejected by men 'alf your age in seedy bars with questionably phallic names."
We've decided to take you shopping. Both of her brows shoot up. "Ah? ...For what?"
She twists in her chair to look bar-ward toward the mentioned smack-talking, wary. Scans the patrons. Finds a few familiar faces, and her expression sloooowly flattens, eyes lidding. "Ai, gods. Here we go again."

Irenes' comment about bladder control earns a snort from Charlie, who glances up towards her. She spots the camera and squints sidelong. "Uh-huh. Y'all got diapers in your flight suits. Steel bladders my ass. You ever had to sit in a sniper nest for eight hours?" She flips off said cameras, straightening in her chair to squint towards the bar, "I bet Calhoun got lost at the-" There he is. She grabs her glass for a refill, taking a long drink once he's done so. The raised voices at the bar do catch her attention and she watches Gage spill out some of his beer as she leans in her chair to prop her chin on the Scorpian Sergeant's shoulder. "Y'think," she murmurs by his ear, "we should go back our brothers up?"

With Whisper speaking up, Paige lifts her head for a moment, and turns her attention back to Elena, Irene, and Ines. "I should really check on my brother while I'm here. Well, half brother. He flies for the Caprican Navy." she comments before chuckling softly at Ines' comment. "Oh Ines, that's any female bathroom I've ever been in. You just have to learn to tune it out. Now, for you." she reaches over and gives Ines's shirt a gentle tug. "This techincally, is you out of uniform. Do you not have any civilian garb?" she asks in concern. "And yes, like Iris said, you are totally going shopping with us!"

Geoff walks around Gage to get at WatchMan. "Who the frak you calling pretty?" he asks. "Frakkin' jealous cuz all the money in the world won't make up for that busted mug of yours. I grew up West of Hephaestus Street, motherfrakker, you think I'm softer than you? I used to roll rich twerps like you for dope money, so don't jump yourself up about what a badass you are." He looks over at Gage. "Nobody should be throwing shade about frakkin' colonies; it's the least of our frakking worries right now."

Elena begins slowly winding her ponytail around the elastic holding it, then tucking in the ends into a bun. Less to grab onto if a fight breaks out. She looks like she's itching for one. It's been a while, and she got to see the mess the Cylons made of her home. Without a toaster around to shoot lately, she's a little edgy. She smirks at the camera as it passes. She gives her boots a cursory glance to make sure the laces are tied right.

A sip of water is taken by Chance and he slides his gaze over to Geoff. He arches a brow at the other marine, and remains silent for several moments while he stares at the smaller man. Finally he sighs and just shakes his head at Geoff, "I was talking about the beer, kid. Cool your jets." Another sip of his water and then looks over at the Caprican officers, then at Gage, then back at the Caprican's, eyes narrowing just a bit. And then there's Geoff again. He just frowns a bit and then shakes his head.

Aldrich manages to obtain and pay for a beer, just in time to spot Geoff heading for WatchMan. He gets a kind of alarmed look, then slips through the people to kind of...insert himself between Geoff and the other Capricans with a broad, manufactured smile. "Hey, hey, hey... Didn't we come here to celebrate something?"

Donny finally appears through one end of the crowd, grunting as he's already fished out and laid some cubit's down on the counter. When he's there, he's ordering his drink and the simple thing is whipped together quickly, and then a few shots of vodka to boot until he's standing there waiting for Erin. There goes his latest paycheck. "So what're your bets that after these shots we're gonna be stumbling all the way back to base?" he asks, moving up to his tip-toes to peer over the crowd back at the table. No one better have taken his seat...

"Snipers just pee their pants. Wooly told me so." Irene says, and if that guy tells her something, it's totally true. Why that would ever come up in casual conversation is a mystery, but there it is. Of course, she's smiling a little shady-like, so she's probably just teasing Charlie. The camera goes to Evan when he sits, and she pushes her empty mug towards the pitcher he's pouring from with a thankful smile. Being as focused as a magpie surrounded by shinies, she's then back looking at Ines and Paige, nodding. "We'll find you the best stuff. Mum knows where to shop here." Solemn nod. And finally, given Elena's interest, she pans to the bar. Picking up on the tension and the snippets of words being tossed around over there, she asks the obvious question, "Are we fighting?"

UglyMug (the buddy who made the crack about the PR stunt) quickly gets all up in Geoff's face. "You better watch your mouth, frakwit. Maybe go hang out with the knitting lady. That seems more your speed." He snorts derisively.

Meanwhile, WatchMan bristles. "Yeah, y'know what, not everyone on Caprica's name is Greystone. And I didn't see anyone complaining when you were raking in the orders for more Cylon units for your colonies." When Stirling tries to intercede he gives her a smirking leer, clearly not deterred. "You can be on my side any day sweetheart. But first I think this asshole needs to try some other Caprican beer." He picks up his drink, intending to dump it on Gage, but gets jostled from behind by UglyMug and the sudden press of people at the bar - and it lands all over Stirling's shirt instead. The CAG just does that hands-up I can't believe that just happened pose, grimacing angrily.

Elena grunts at Irene. "Might be. Starting to look like its leaning that way. Oh hell, what's the Chaplain doing? He's going to get his teeth knocked out." She grimaces a little. Then WatchMan is dumping beer on the CAG. "OH HELL NO!" she declares and gets up, "No one disses the CAG." She starts heading that way, fists balled.

"Stumble back?" Erin grins at Donny. "Man, you gotta try and find someone to take you back to their place. Frak, haven't you seen those vids about enlisted men and townies? They'll totally try to lay you up like a cheat pallet, and then make you think that -- " And then there's a commotion behind her, and she looks back just as Stirling gets a beer shower.

Sometimes, in this life, there are perfect moments for people. In the instant that tempers flare and alcohol is abused, there can only be one picture that sums up Erin's reaction. It is a perfect picture, one that is simply impossible to describe in words.

It is here: https://imgflip.com/s/meme/Evil-Plotting-Raccoon.jpg

Grinning like that is just not right for a pretty girl like Erin. Yet, here she is, rabid and ready for action.

"People have been talking shit about Caprica since we frakking got here, I'm sick of it," Geoff says to Chance. "People didn't act like this the other places we've been." He frowns at Aldrich. "Get out of the way, Preacher." He snorts at UglyMug. "Don't talk about her, you don't frakkin' know her," he says. And he pushes WatchMan's shoulder. "Can't hold your frakkin' liquor, obviously. Get the frak out of here, fancypants. Take your busted friend."

Gage grunts, and shifts his shoulders. There might be a brief smirk as Geoff steps forward, though it disappears pretty quickly at the Caprican officer's words, his expression flat. "You want to take this outside? Or are you yellow enough that you're only capable of throwing insults so you can feel like a big dick?" And then there's beer being dumped -- nearly on him -- definitely on the CAG. He can't help it: he starts chuckling. "With aim as good as that, no wonder you needed our help taking back Delphi."

"Yo, no way." Says Donny, his brows skyrocketing as he watches WatchMan just pour out his drink on Stirling. Then he notices UglyMug getting up in a marine-bro's face, "No. Way." he says- a grin both amused and excited growing. Then he see's Elena putting them up. "Yo, Chilly, it's FIGHT NIGHT!" he says with a loud chuckle and holler as he's already trying to push his way back through the crowd to get back to the table as fast as he can. Whilst doing so, he's leaning his pint back and guzzling it down as fast as he can. He -has- to get in on this.

Aldrich sighs and...facepalms. Yes, he literally puts his hand on his face. "Gods above, Geoff, are you /that/..." he cuts himself off and shakes his head, muttering something in Old Gemenese, then, "Fine. I tried. Be an idiot and give them exactly what they want." He takes a step back out of the way. Sometimes you just have to let nature take its course.

Ines drops her eyes to the point of contact, where Paige tugs her shirt. On reflex, really; not because she minds. "You mean for all of that free time I'm going to have?" She's amused, but there's something more complicated underneath it, and there's no time to explain it anyway. Ines' eyes go wide as saucers as one of the locals dumps beer on the Major.
Then Elena gets up to stalk that way.
"...Shit!" As the hive starts to hum, duly kicked, she stares at her glass, then tips her head back and tries to drain it, frozen or not. Someone's struck a spark at the fuse on this powder keg. It's not a question of if anymore, but when, and she's pretty sure they're about to stop serving drinks for a while.

"Thanks, Geoff." Sarice says mildly, standing from her seat. The lieutenant stretches slowly, threading the knitting needles back into the ball of yarn. A orange sock lies there, completed, lonely. It's missing its' second half. It is lost, and lonely, and much like Sarice, irritated at being interrupted during its' creation. She does not, admittedly, make a impressive feature standing up. Most of the room beats her in height, and Erin is much scarier than she is overall for both being about the same height. Her drink gets downed. It's not alcoholic. This is probably for the best. "You know, for colonies attempting cooperation and peace, why are we fighting each other?" Ah, now she gets philosophical.

Other people are spoiling for a fight. This is a bonding experience. Or the like. As Irene and Elena seem both up to the challenge and excitement, Paige frowns. These aren't Cylons. They're other people. Her kinsmen in some aspects. But then again, so is Stirling. It all leads to a very disquieting moment of Paige trying to figure out her role in all of this.

And for now, it is the inactive observer that is ducking further back away from the fight. Because she is so not going to screw up her manicure for this.

Oh wow, that's some perfect timing. Irene has the camera on the gang at the bar when the drink gets poured on Stirling. She has it in frame and everything, not even blurry. Her jaw drops. She stands and looks so, so indignant about the events transpiring. "HEY! THIS IS MY PARTY! AND YOU CAN'T POUR DRINKS ON MY CAG AT MY PARTY!" She loudly informs the Caprican offenders, projecting her voice across the room, high and clear. They've crossed Irene, and they've broken her party rules. This is intolerable!

A few chairs are pushed back by both the Wolves and some other Capricans in the bar - both the military types and just some random civilians in on the action. Some scurry for cover, and the bartender - entirely too late - yells, "Look I don't want any trouble in here!"

"Say that again you motherfrakker?" someone from behind UglyMug hollers as he overhears Gage's crack about their aim. He comes over - and he comves over swinging.

When Geoff pushes WatchMan, his wingman UglyMug pushes back - not just a tap to the shoulder, but an attempt at a full-on shove.

WatchMan glares at Geoff and Gage in turn, but it seems there might be something to that yellow comment because he doesn't immediately come on swinging. "I'm not the one hiding behind a girl," WatchMan points out snidely.

Stirling shakes out her shirt for a moment, before her eyebrows arch at WatchMan's comment. "Excuse me, I need to borrow this," she says to Gage, reaching over to grab his drink so she can throw it in WatchMan's face. As the beer drips from the Caprican officer's chin, the CAG steps to the side and motions toward WatchMan with an, "All yours, Corporal."

Elena steps up to WatchMan and she pushes him in the chest with one hand. "Oh no, you're the one DUMPING DRINKS on a woman. That's my CAG you frakking asshole. And I think I remember you from Flight School. WatchMan, right? Here's a girl, come show me what you got. I'm Caprican. And I'm a Wolf." All 5'11" of her.

<FS3> Donny rolls Melee: Success (8 6 3 2 1)

<FS3> Elena rolls Melee: Good Success (8 7 7 5 4 4 3 1)

<FS3> Chance rolls Melee: Good Success (8 7 6 6 4 3 1 1 1 1)

"If you give a shit about Caprica, step outside," Geoff says to WatchMan after sparing a glare at Aldrich, even though he staggers back a step at the shove. "Don't frak up some honest guy's business by picking a fight, you rich pricks. Get the frak out of here." At least he hasn't thrown a punch yet.

<FS3> Gage rolls Melee: Good Success (7 7 6 5 5 4 2)

<FS3> Charlie rolls Melee: Good Success (6 6 6 4 3 3 3 1)

Chance apparently has decided to ignore Geoff in favor of eyeing the two Caprican's who have started to escalate things. And then there's a beer spilled all over Stirling. Chance isn't a pilot, but still...this is a matter of principal. Being as big as Chance is, he's used to people avoid starting shit around him. Apparently these two didn't get the memo. He's about to start telling them to get lost when one of them starts swinging and the other gets a drink in the face. He grunts and shoves his six and a half foot frame forward, pushing at one of the two Caprican's and setting his feet. "Outside punks, let's go!"

With a grin to the CAG, Gage's gesture seems to indicate be my guest to Stirling. "You got a problem with your hearing, goat-frakker?" is Gage's immediately response to the approaching Caprican. The man's swing connects, firmly and with a loud smack against the marine's jaw. Oddly, the Tauron grins, and leaps forward to return the gesture in kind, aiming for the other man's kidney. He's not playing fair, true. But he's a frakking marine.

And then the Capricans are starting to shove their chairs out and close on in and, well, Charlie can't just sit still, nope. There's a kiss to Evan's cheek and she's downing her beer... but not setting down her glass. "I've got your back," she offers to him. Then, in Scorpian, as she rises from her chair. <<Love you!>> And there's one of the Caprican marines descending towards the bar: apparently, in spite of the 'mingling' comments earlier, they don't mind shoving their way in, now. "Buddy, learn to watch your frakkin' six." Because he's getting a glass broken over his head.

<FS3> Geoff rolls Melee: Great Success (8 7 6 6 6 5 3 1)

Donny comes weaving out from the crowd- in this time, he's also knocked back two of the shots he had for others, and left the empty glasses and other shots on a nearby table as he LUNGES from the crowd and comes out from the side as he swings his left fist forward in a jab straight for UglyMugs chin from the sidelines. To go with it? "RECON, MOTHER-FRAKKER!" Did it do anything? Maybe a bit, but the Capricans no doubt still standing.

Geoff doesn't start with throwing punches. In fact, he just drops his center of gravity into a crouch and throws his shoulder into UglyMug's middle, aiming to drive him toward the door with the ultimate goal of dumping him into the street. Where people can fight him at their leisure.

His back? That would imply Evan is going to be jumping into the fight. He absolutely isn't. Instead he pushes his chair back and brushes his hands on his pants, moving to the side. There's a waiting look and then he nods as Charlie smashes the guy over the head with a bottle. That's when the Scorpian makes his move. Go for a headbutt? An elbow drop? Neither. Evan goes for the guy that's been knocked down and steals his wallet.

Geoff successfully shoves UglyMug back towards the door - and right into Donny's punch. The man goes down. WatchMan snarls at Stirling when she pours the beer all over him, but apparently he's not the type to hit a woman. And then there's Chance, towering over him, and he just holds up his hands, his face still dripping with beer, "Hey man, I don't want any trouble?" Bit late for that though, as there are smaller fist-fights going on all over. He peers at Elena, "Harpy?"

Chaos ensues, and Aldrich finds himself kind of in the middle of it, trying to avoid spilling his beer or getting punched by anyone. He holds up his free hand in a gesture vaguely reminiscent of a 'I come in peace' pose. "Is this /seriously/ what we're going to--" He has to duck out of the way as one of the Wolves (who knows which one) nearly barrels into him. "Hey! Non-combatant here!" he announces with obvious annoyance.

Other Caprican Marines? Aw, yis. Erin spies Charlie coming down from her perch, and cackles to herself. She rubs her raccoon paws together, finds herself the other of the two she's selected, and then springs into action.

Like this: https://a.fod4.com/misc/Attack%20Cat%20Baby.gif

Sure, Erin's not a cat, but the way she blind-sides the Caprican target she's selected? Magnificent and marvelous. "Recon!" she cries out with a hoot. Because now's the time to go frakkin' crazy.

<FS3> Ines rolls Wits: Success (7 6 4 1 1)

"I really hate that callsign," Elena says, before she throws a punch at WatchMan's face, because she is SO over him. "THAT is for grabbing my ass in Flight school you assmunch!" And then she kicks him in the shin. "THAT is for the CAG."

<FS3> Chance rolls Melee: Good Success (7 6 6 6 4 4 3 3 2 2)

<FS3> Charlie rolls Reflexes: Success (7 5 4 3 2 1)

<FS3> Stirling rolls Melee: Good Success (8 8 7 6 2 2)

<FS3> Charlie rolls Melee: Great Success (8 8 8 6 6 4 4 1)

Stirling ducks and moves away from the bar, very emphatically turning a blind eye to the chaos. Unfortunately the chaos doesn't quite turn a blind eye to her. Like Aldrich, someone careens into her. Stirling stumbles, annoyed. When that someone then tries to take a swing at one of her pilots, the CAG catches his arm and rabbit punches him in the back of the head.

Donny hobbles a bit as he waves off his fist after feeling his knuckles having connected with UglyMug. When he looks back and sees he's down, he begins to lose it with a fit of laughter. "Hah! Dude you got FRAKKED up!" he says, shouting down at the Caprican before he drops down and he begins to run his victims pockets for his wallet. There's a glance up to Geoff, and he flashes him a childishly excited grin, "We make a good team, yo!" he says before he slips out UglyMugs wallet and puts it along with his own. There's his paycheck back. Now he's standing back up, and looking around for a new victim before he acts.

After the Caprican stumbles back from the blow, Gage shifts his jaw, grimacing as he presses the palm of his hand against it for a moment while he takes a breath. He looks towards WatchMan, but other Wolves are jumping in, and the marine's grin broadens. "For the Wolves!" he yells, not so worried as some of the others about taking things outside. No Tauron beer in here, therefore nothing worth saving! The Caprican's moving back in towards him, and with another grin he steps forward to take a swing -- but the Caprican's fast and he ducks the punch, which instead heads right for Aldrich.

Sarice slides through the crowd, using her smaller size to find gaps that she can get to Aldrich to. "Dear Chaplain, come on." Her voice says behind him, offering her hand. "This is not a space for either of us." She says agreeably, not lifting a hand to anyone but him. "Yet here I remain, since I'm sure the people will need me." Whether he takes her hand or not, Sarice slides through the crowd back towards her table in the far corner, where it's fairly safer - not to mention, a corner plus a table makes a great fort if shit really goes south.

Chance's general fighting style is pretty standard marine, augmented by sheer size. He's got a good amount of skill, but when you are that big, you don't have to work all that hard to grab someone and punch them in the face. So Chance does just that. After Elena punches and kicks WatchMan, Chance shakes his head, "Too late, punk." He snatches Watchman up by the shirt and then punches him in the face once, letting him go to stumble back against the bar.

Apparently, Calhoun is going to be Wagner's cleanup crew. Not that she minds. "I want steak." Because if he's collecting cubits, they're going out on a nice date soon. "...and a top-shelf scotch." While she's giving an advanced order, however, the man she dropped has a buddy... and he actually manages to brush his fist across her shoulder before she turns back and knocks him solid in return. He is knocked the frak out. His heels even pop back up in the air. She scoffs after, drawing up her fists with a scowl as she moves towards the bar and her fellow marines in that general vicinity.

A heavy beer mug goes flying over Irene's left shoulder, close enough to rustle her hair, so apparently all her party rules are out the window with that. Her authority is not respected. That being so, and nearly everyone rushing to the bar to join in, the bus driver climbs up onto her chair for an elevated view of the unfolding fracas. "Who threw that?" She demands, but nobody answers. "Mum, the natives are agitated." She reports to Paige, perhaps looking for direction as she's yet to jump in. For now she's just guarding the cake.

Geoff seems angry, but he looks up at Donny with a solemn expression. "I owe you one," he says. Then he twists his hand in UglyMug's collar and throws him bodily out of the bar. "Let's toss the other frakker," he shouts. "Get back to drinking!"

<FS3> Elena rolls Gymnastics: Success (7 7 3 3 2)

<FS3> Evan rolls Stealing Shit: Success (7 5 1)

<FS3> Donny rolls Watch Heist: Failure (5 4 2 1)

Elena grins at Chance and gives him a nod of approval. "Nice." Then she's backbending to get out of the way of a swing from another Caprican, and splitting off to go beat some sense into the dumb bastard. With style, because she was a stunt woman in action movies and she had a lot of fight training for them.

The fight continues raging around him, and Calhoun does what he seems to deem as most important at that time. Robbing the Caprican's as they drop. A wallet here, a class ring there. He at least has the dignity to not steal someone's wedding band although the thought does cross his mind. "You want some new boots too?" He calls it out over his shoulder towards Charlie, wincing as she laces the man and starts making his way over.

The sound of bad furniture scraping roughly across a floor: is anything so universally recognizable as the signal of a barfight beginning in earnest? Ines is on her feet after she hears it, slamming her glass down on the table. Wincing, because pounding frozen drinks is the highway to brainfreeze. She has that very long ponytail wound up into a bun in seconds flat -- seconds during which she watches Irene chastize the patronage for spoiling her party.
It's a moment so surreal that all Ines can do is laugh, and as she's laughing kick the empty chair beside hers into the trajectory of angry Capricans looking to reinforce the pair that were at the bar.

Two greedy eyes fall upon WatchMan. And funny enough, they're Donny's- he's noticed some loot that looks a whole lot better than the wallet he just snatched. And that's the thing on the Caprican officer's wrist. Channeling all the knowledge he's gotten from playing hours of Assassin's Code, he begins to try and wade the crowd. He thinks he's pulling it off well, but he's kinda just bumping against people as he then comes up on WatchMan after he's finished getting a snap to the face from Chance and, without much ceremony, he just tries to straight up begin prying the watch off of the officer. Slick, Donny. Real slick. "C'mon, let this shit go."

Aldrich might have managed to duck in time, but then Sarice has to go and try to help. Al looks aside at her, just in time to get punched in the jaw by one of his own. He stumbles back, beer goes flying, and he only just barely keeps his balance. He's left looking kind of disoriented as he pinballs off in another direction. Apparently he's decided this is not the place he wants to be.

Erin has some class. She does not rob the Capricans. She just takes their alcohol.


And then, she puts herself on a stool, her ill-gotten gains set before her on the counter, where she can watch Donny trying to take the watch off of the officer's wrist. "What are you doing?" she asks, laughing at him openly.

<FS3> Gage rolls Melee: Success (7 7 5 4 2 1 1)

"Frak, Chaplain. Get out of the way!" It's not exactly an apology from Gage, but he's understandably distracted, because the Caprican is leaping forward to aim a punch at his face. It impacts, to Gage's grunted reaction, staggering back a step and spitting out blood. Before the Caprican can capitalize and press his advantage, the combat engineer is rushing him, the momentum sending them both crashing into the table next to the Wolves' gathering spot. Sorry for ruining the party, Irene! A Tauron's gotta do what a Tauron's gotta do.

<FS3> Charlie rolls Reflexes: Good Success (8 7 7 6 5 1)

<FS3> Elena rolls Melee: Good Success (8 8 8 6 4 3 3 2)

"Only if they're new!" This, called in response to Evan's query. Charlie doesn't want some stinky Caprican's boots. She's nearly to the bar when Gage goes tackling the Caprican, barreling him towards the table. She barely gets out of the way, turning sidelong and towards Erin. She slides an arm around Chilly's waist, grinning at the other recon marine. "Hayes! Was wondering if you were caught up in all of this. Tell me, honestly, you set it off, right?" She's teasing. There's a healthy sort of flush on the Piconese woman's features. She's loving the whole thing.

Elena gets grabbed from behind, her arms locked, by one of the Caprican marines, and the pilot uses it as leverage to leap up and shove another one in the chest with both feet, and slam the guy holding her back into the wall. Then another fist comes from somewhere and catches her in the mouth, drawing blood. That only makes her grin and leap back into the fray.

<FS3> Geoff rolls Melee: Great Success (8 8 7 6 6 4 4 2)

<FS3> Chance rolls Melee: Good Success (8 6 6 5 4 3 3 3 2 1)

Geoff ducks a blow from a civilian Caprican he hadn't seen, but takes a body blow with an 'oof.' "Frak off, I'm a Caprican too, you dumb frakker!" He yells. "Get the frak out of here." He manages to deliver a kick to that guy that sends him stumbling toward the door.

<FS3> Paige rolls Melee: Good Success (7 7 7 6 3 2 1)

<FS3> Paige rolls Stealth: Failure (4 3 3 2 2 1 1)

Moving towards WatchMan as he recovers against the bar, Chance finds himself grabbed from behind by another Caprican marine who'd been drinking there. Chance grunts and shoves his back against the bar top, effectively shoving the marine against the bar top. He throws an elbow back into the mans head and then turns back on WatchMan, "Get the frak out!" he bellows.

<FS3> Irene rolls Melee: Success (8 6 3 1 1)

"Ooops. I can fix that." Sarice says, following Aldrich. It's the only thing she can do at this point, almost apologetic for getting him hurt. Either way, Sarice is on her way out. She'll see some of you tomorrow.

When Elena gets snagged, Paige gives a panicked little noise. She's not sure what to do, but she has to do something. Grabbing a beer bottle, she brings it down on the back of the head of the man that was attacking Elena that she headbutted and sends him tumbling towards the floor. The sad part of this? Paige was trying to be.. stealthy.. about her attack, but well, the Graystone only draws the attention and the aggro. She gives a small eep of worry and settles herself for attack sure to come.

<FS3> Erin rolls Stealth: Great Success (8 8 7 7 7 3 3 2 2 1)

<FS3> Erin rolls Melee: Success (7 5 4 4 3 2 1)

<FS3> Aldrich rolls Melee: Good Success (7 6 6 3 3 3)

<FS3> Elena rolls Melee: Good Success (8 8 7 6 5 4 4 2)

<FS3> Geoff rolls Melee: Great Success (7 7 7 6 6 5 2 1)

Elena turns at the smashing sound and gives Paige a grin for her heroic effort. "You'll break a nail, Princess," she points out, before punching a guy coming at the ECO square in the nose and dropping him like a sack of wet cement.

Aldrich shoots Sarice a kind of sour look. So unimpressed! He'd be on his way out, too, except this time a Caprican takes a swing at him (probably by accident) and that is apparently the last straw. "You know what..." He pushes up his sleeves, winds up, and punches the dude on the chin, laying him out. "I do /not/ want to be in this fracking fight." It would be impressive if he didn't immediately get shoulder chucked by the dude's friend and knocked to the ground. Whoops.

Erin looks over her shoulder at Charlie, grinning at her. "What?" Snort. "Now, why would anyone think that I would start something like this? Seriously. I'm a lot more subtle than that, except when I'm not, of course." She looks back at the fray, frowns at something, and then hands her beer to Charlie. "Here. Hold my beer."

She slips off her barstool, and sidles up behind the man that Paige just smashed over the head with a beer bottle. Before he can go aggro on the Raptor ECO, the Trash Panda pulls a trash panda move: she delivers a swift kick to the nether tenders from behind, and then goes back to her seat, just like that.

And then, she takes her beer back. "Thanks." Swig.

Geoff boots the first Caprican and hops out of the way of another. When that one goes sailing past him, he uses the momentum to help that guy out the door, too. Now, Geoff is not unfamiliar with the bar fight as a leisure activity, and it pretty much always ends the same way, so he loudly advises, "CLEAR THE BAR BEFORE THE COPS SHOW!"

"I'm tryin' to get a hundred percent discount on a new watch." answers Donny, his lips twisting off to the side of his face as he's fumbling with the expensive accessory with a surprising amount of focus for such shoddy and brutish work. "Dude- seriously, how tight did you strap this thing?!" he growls, before eventually just giving up. "Frak it!" he says, letting go and stepping back to -try- and avoid the consequences of his actions an to make his way around to join his recon buds, not counting on the fact that the Caprican might not have liked the notion of having his watch stolen. He comes around and leans back against the counter with a slow sigh, "This party is sooo lit.".

"... ohmygods." Aldrich goes down again, and Sarice covers her face as she blindly takes a few steps, plastering herself against the wall on accident with a oof. "I'm so, so sorry--" She says, anxiously, before going for her yarn, then the door. Good bye, friends. Medico is going. She isn't going to risk anything else at this point. Also, time to start the apology blanket.

Irene seems to remember that she has a camera still, so gets it back up and filming something other than the floor and her shoes just in time to catch Gage bulldozing the Caprican into the next table over. Ooh. Aaah. So cool. She's being the best director ever up there on her chair, when in the commotion someone nearly kicks it out from under her. There's an eep from her and a frantic waving of her arms like she's trying to fly up and away like a bird or something. It doesn't work. The camera slips out of her hand and plops messily into the dead center of the aces cake and gravity goes after her too. There's nowhere to go but down, so she leaps for it, and well, the nearest softest looking thing happens to be the tangle of musclar limbs that is Gage Tomak and the Caprican he's fighting. So, she lands right on them on the ruins of the table, putting an elbow into the bad marine's chin more accidentally than anything, "Don't kill me!" She squeaks.

<FS3> Paige rolls Melee: Good Success (8 8 8 3 2 1 1)

<FS3> Ines rolls Melee: Failure (3 3 2 2)

"I was just trying to help!" Paige says as she looks at her nails. Nothing broken! But yes, she has drawn aggro. That is until Elena and Erin are moving in to the rescue. The ECO gives a small smile of thankfulness at the rescue of the two women from the Capricans that were attacking her. That is until Irene is attack. Oh hell no. Mum senses engage and Paige quickly storms towards the Marine trying to attack Irene. "Get your mits off my pilot!" she yells, jumping on the Marine's back and starts beating him with her small fists against his shoulders - rather effectively.

Somewhere in the background, the distraught-looking bartender can be seen on the phone with one would presume the police, clutching a baseball bat to use on anyone who tries to come over the bar.

A few people seem to hear Geoff's warning and start disentangling themselves from the brawl.

WatchMan - battered by both Chance and Elena and bleeding from the mouth - is sprawled on the ground and tugs his wrist back from Donny. "Frak man, what the frak are you doing! Get the frak off my watch!" He'll take a swing if Donny doesn't.

<FS3> Chance rolls Melee: Good Success (8 6 6 4 4 4 4 2 2 1)

<FS3> Donny rolls Melee: Success (7 6 5 4 2)

Elena watches Paige go mother hen on Iris' behalf and she just laughs merrily. She goes to one of the broken tables and grabs a pair of legs, twirling them expertly, before using them to usher more bleeding Capricans out the door. "Come on kids, I think I hear the clean up crew coming!" she warns the Wolves.

One could get the feeling Gage doesn't regret the crash into the table for a second, despite the fact that he's groaning as he sits up, and there's glass that's cut into his upper arm just above his tattoos. It's probably because the Caprican looks in worse condition than he does, just barely. They're busy grappling to see who gets on top, but before that gets far -- there's Irene. Gage grunts at the impact of her landing on him, though it's worse for the Caprican, whose eyes roll back at that elbow to the chin, slumping down. "Nice..." he's panting a bit as he slumps back, "...party."

While she holds Erin's beer, Charlie totally takes a swig. While watching the bar. Half to keep an eye on Evan and his shenanigans to make sure she doesn't need to jump his rescue and half to keep an eye on the rest of her marine brethren. Still, it's a nice break to catch her breath and have a drink. She relinquishes the beer back to the other recon marine upon her return. "You and your pilots." And hten Donny's in trouble, so she breaks away and starts in that direction- even if Chance is there, who knows, they might need a third to duck in and join the fray.

Geoff sees that fateful call, and he knows what that call always is. "Don't get frakkin' busted, Wolves!" he yells, echoing Elena, and then slips out the door. He's off and running. Frak all this.

Seeing WatchMan attempt to punch Donny, Chance lunges forward at the Caprican officer and snatches the offending hand. He casts a glance at Donny, a quick nod sent his way, "I got your back, bro."

It's all fun and games until someone punches a chaplain.
Fact: the Leonese, for all that they're very cosmopolitan, have some very religious families. Whether Ines is religious or not is beside the point; in the world she comes from, people do not assault clergy. She sees Aldrich get chucked on the ground and her eyes go wide, her mouth open in a sudden, scandalized gasp. "How dare they!"
She's not a marine, but she's a soldier. She had basic training in hand to hand. These guys are drunk. How hard can it be?
Really hard, as it turns out. She vaults over a chair and then a table and into the chest of someone who must weigh at least twice what she does, throwing furious fists and spewing a torrent of equally furious Leonese, and if this is detrimental to Alrich's assailant in any way, it's probably only because he's trying to figure out why the hell this person is pummeling him with her noodle arms. None of her blows do any real damage, driven mostly by pique. They...lack finesse. If she gets him in the jaw at all, it's probably more luck than skill.

Donny wasn't counting on having this much resistance for the watch. Well, then again, it -is- a really nice watch. Donny is wincing and pulling his head back a bit as he sees WatchMan pull his fist back and get ready to connect it with Donnys nose before Chance comes to his rescue. There's a blink, and he's looking back at the larger man and tossing him a grin and thumbs up. "Frakkin' A, dude!" he says before he turns back around and goes for a swing, hooking the Caprican officer right in the chin before he pushes back from him. Considering Donny's wheezing laugh right now, he's loving every part of this. "Holy shit we need to do this more often guys!" he calls out loud to the entire bar as he looks around.

When the warning bell is called, Erin rolls her eyes. "And I just got back on my ass to enjoy this frakkin' drink." She snorts, grumbles, and then puts her beer back down. "Cheese it!" And then, as she makes her exit, she shouts at Donny: "Rooster! You're out of your element! Come on!"

<FS3> Stirling rolls Melee: Success (7 6 5 4 2 1)

After Donny punches WatchMan, Chance hauls the woozy Caprican up over a shoulder, walks rather calmly to the door, and hurls the Caprican officer out onto his ass on the ground.

Classy, that's what Evan considers himself. A bartender in his own right on leave, the fact that this has been going on for a bit does seem to alarm him some and he looks around. A spot on Charlie has him moving that direction and he goes to snatch at her elbow, "Hey, when I yell scatter, grab our people and get the hell out, yeah?" He tilts his head towards the doorway.

Aldrich would very much like to avoid being busted, but he kind of has this Caprican who is very determined to turn his face into Chaplain-pudding. He holds his own, as far as anyone can in this sort of dirty fight, but neither seems willing/able to heed the warning to skedaddle. And then... in comes Ines, in all her noodle-armed glory, and saves the day. In fact, it kind of works. Sort of. Both Aldrich and the Caprican are so confused that they break off, stumbling back away from each other. After a disoriented moment, Aldrich attempts to grab Ines by the arm, "I'm getting out of here. You might want to do the same." If she doesn't take the warning, he'll leave her behind. In any case, he takes the opening to head for the door. Limping, but at least still in one piece!

Hearing his name again, Donny hops on his toes over to the exit, "Alright!" he calls back out to the recon raccoon, and he's looking left and right with a grin. He then makes his way over towards the exit as well, snickering all the way as he takes out the wallet he earlier snatched. "I've got cash for Taco Town on the way back to base!"

"I saved your life, Tomak!" Irene beams at him, from really close up since she's like, landed on him and everything. Finally, her sharp elbows have come in useful. She hears Paige yelling about her pilot and she offers some reassuring words, thinking she means the guy Gage flattened into the table, "It's okay, I killed him, Cap!" No worries. Just a little friendly murder. She gets to her knees after that, brushes some broken glass off of Gage and starts to woozily stand up. She may have broken herself a little bit.

<FS3> Paige rolls Melee: Great Success (8 8 8 8 7 6 4)

Stirling has mostly been trying to stay out of the brawl, but seeing someone take a swing at the Chaplain and then seeing one of her new pilots swandive into the fray... Stirling steps over. The man jerks his arm back, cracking the CAG in the side of the face. That's going to be a shiner come morning. But after a grimace and a stumble, Stirling manages to pull him back away from Ines. "That's enough," she warns him, locking up his arm.

The Caprican marine's yelled warning is certainly heard by Gage, judging by his, "Motherfrakker. Last thing I need is more laps from the Gunny, or worse," he's muttering, as he attempts to lever himself to a seated position as Irene climbs to her feet, nodding thanks when she brushes some of that glass off. He grins at her, "Yeah, you frakking did, you badass." He climbs to his feet, one hand reaching out to help steady Irene as he does so. "Time to go, Harris," he says, taking a step towards the door in the wake of the departing pilots.

Elena is ushering people outside with a kick here, and a swat with a table leg there. She shouts over to Stirling "Need to go now, boss!"

<FS3> Charlie rolls Melee: Great Success (7 6 6 6 6 5 3 2)

When Evan grabs her elbow, Charlie almost jerks it back into his midsection, but she realizes it's him just in time. There's a flash of a grin for the man and she nods. There's a tilt of her head for the bartender. "'Bout time anyway." She leans to press a quick kiss to the Sergeant before leaving him to his tast and she to her own- which is to start clearing the way to the exit for the rest of the Wolves. Unfortunately, this gets her decked at least twice. She's going to have a few bruises of her own, but the recon marine gets a fair bit more malicious herself in making sure the Colonials have a fair and clear path towards the door. A couple more Capricans are going to be playing the part of 'rug.'

More people are getting the message that the cops, or the MPs - or hell probably both in a civilian bar this close to the base - are on their way. The bar is thinning out, but there are still a few little skirmishes going on here and there.

"Ooh. Tacos." Erin cackles to herself and takes to lightly jogging out of the bar. "You're buying, Rooster. I'm holding you to that." Beat. "And were you trying to steal a man's watch? Frak, man, that's ballsy." And out she goes.

"It's time to go, I have money for bail, but not that much." Paige murmurs quietly as she rests on hand on Irene for a moment to make sure she's alright, just in time to see another Marine tangoing with Ines ineffectively swinging at a guy. The ECO was on her way to take care of another pilot and grits her teeth, and when Stirling locks his arm up, Paige slugs him. And Paige? For a moment, she's smiling in satisfaction before she grabs her hand. "Owwwwwww!" she yelps, shaking her hand.

Glancing over at Stirling as she shakes out her hand, Paige smiles thinly. "Buy a new ace a drink?" she asks as she continues to shake out her hand. She's not only a Caprican, she's a Graystone. It'll be hell in the press, but Paige is going to stick by her boss.

There is a stereotype. It involves temperamental women from Leonis throwing things at some hapless individual or out of a second-story window, usually in a lover's tiff, whilst shrieking unintelligible but almost certainly deeply insulting things.
Ines isn't shrieking, but she's giving that guy a piece of her mind -- whatever it is, who can even tell? -- and it's not a situation calmed by the way Stirling takes his elbow to the face. If anything, it just redoubles her ineffective, deeply indignant efforts, which means she's oblivious to Aldrich's wise suggestion that she join him in getting out.
And then Paige rings his bell. It stops Ines not because she's angry, but because she turns an amazed look on the woman who, not long ago, declined to participate because of her manicure. "Princess," she says, tone all approving awe. And, after a suitable two, three seconds of staring, her brows once again assume The Danger Position as she looks up at the poor man long enough to slap him. Just once.
She's better at slapping than punching.

<FS3> Stirling rolls Melee: Success (7 6 3 3 2 2)

<FS3> Chance rolls Melee: Great Success (8 8 7 6 6 6 5 2 2 2)

Elena quickly chucks the tablelegs aside when the sirens can be heard, and she moves back to right a barstool and slide up onto it near Stirling. "This should be interesting."

"I'm going!" Irene replies, ready to follow Gage out, until she remembers a vitally important detail: her camera, in the cake, with the video evidence. She gasps at Paige, eyes going crazy wide, rushes back to the party table and plunges her hand into the cake without a moment's hesitation. Her hand comes out with the camera and a sizeable chunk of cake innards, and frosting up over her wrist. That handled, she looks around, watching as people rush out, and some keep fighting, to the room, she says, "What is going on Caprica? You can't pour drinks on the CAG at my party! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS!" Violence happens. Now what to do? She beelines for her co-pilot and the CAG as it happens. "Are you not leaving?"

"Get the frak off, bitch!" the big Caprican tries to shake off Stirling. The punch from Paige rattles his cage, and the slap from Ines just makes him even redder (if such a thing was possible) but finally the CAG manages to force the man to the ground with the arm lock. "Little busy here, Imbros," she calls back to Elena. The CAG is in no hurry to leave, since some of her pilots are still here. "You guys should go." It's clearly more a suggestion than an order.

Chance moved back in from the door way to try and see who else needs clearing out, "Let's move it, Wolves!" And at that, two more Caprican marines bum rush him. He takes a shoulder to the gut, but again, being six and a half feet tall has its advantages. Chance knees the one who grabbed him and grabs him by and arm and the waist of his pants, throwing the man off towards the door which he hits with a meaty thud. The second threw a punch that Chance managed to dodge and counter, knocking the marine to the ground. And with that Chance stalks off towards the door to get gone.

<FS3> Paige rolls Melee: Success (8 7 5 4 4 2 1)

Aaaand, cue sirens as some Caprica City Police pull up in front of the bar. It takes them some time to get out of their cars, sort out the situation, etc, so there's still a chance for people to slip out through the door. Or out the back.
Elena chuckles and leans over the bar to claim a bottled beer from the cooler. She pops the cap, dabs the blood off her split lip with a napkin, and takes a wincing sip. She squints at Stirling, one eye starting to swell already, and grins. "Nah, we stick together, Whisper," she points out. "It was clearly some ladies defending themselves from handsy guys."

Gage makes it as far as the doorway in the wake of Chance's departure just as the local police arrive. Sure, he could try and claim innocence, but the fact that he's bloodied enough to be unable to deny he was involved in whatever went down here means he holds up his hands instead in visible surrender. "Corporal Gage Tomak, Timber Wolves," is all he'll say for the time being.

There's a moment of thought from the prim and proper Princess. Then Paige moves and sets one foot in the middle of the Marine's back that Stirling just finished downing and strikes a big game hunter pose and smiles wide for Irene's camera. "I will be staying." she admits and glances towards the Major. "After all, someone has to make sure that it's well known that Hamfist here..." she grinds her heel into the Marine's back, "Knows not to frak with a pack of Female Wolves on the prowl." There's a wink at that, before stepping off to open her purse and take out her ID for the arriving MPs.

Recon is often first in and last out. This sticks when it comes to making sure the other Wolves get out. Charlie will make sure the door is clear and that none of the Capricans bar the way for any pilots (especially) heading for the exits. Marines are expected to get into brush-ups. This sort of behavior is part and parcel of marine life. Especially for a Corporal like her. They frak up all the godsdamned time. And if she gets busted back down to Lance? No skin off her nose. But an Officer, well, that's a damn sight harder. But when a few of the officers opt to stick around, she just looks vexed. Even so, once the cops are through the door, she takes one last shoulder-check of a Caprican into the bar before she steps away, wiping the back of her hand across her jaw to fall into step alongside Gage. There's a glance to make sure Evan made it out; he had a lot of other peoples' property on him. That wouldn't fly very well.

Irene gets a shot of Paige doing her pose, partly obscured by a blob of frosting on the lens that she hastily flicks off before trying again. Satisfied she's got some footage, the camera is shut off and stuffed into her hoodie pocket, cake goop and all. She sees both Charlie and Gage stopped at the door, and also being loyal to her co-pilot and CAG, she doesn't bolt for the back door. She just quirks a smile and begins to idly lick the frosting off the back of her hand. "I'll try to look innocent." She decides, already magically getting dewy eyed like she's working up a big cry.

Aldrich was trying to make it out before the cops arrive, but between dodging this fellow and ducking that fellow, he hasn't quite made it before the cops arrive, and he looks distinctly put out by that for a second. He considers his options, mutters something under his breath, and then stalks over to the nearest wall, plops himself down cross-legged, and closes his eyes. That's right. Pay no attention to the meditating chaplain.

Ines pushes out a tight breath and watches the man put face-down on the ground. The rare tempest appears to have passed, leaving behind only a faint flush high on her cheekbones.
Sirens are the next thing to penetrate the haze of alcohol and adrenaline, and they do a finer job of it than a bucket of ice water. She glances toward the door, sees a few shadows through the front-facing windows as some of their compatriots make it out...
And then the police.
She draws a long, deep breath, exhaling it as a sigh as she settles back, propped on the edge of a table. It's resigned...but there's a helpless little half-smile there, too.
Caprica has been a hell of a way to get to know her new unit.

Stirling offers a little smile at Elena and Paige, nodding to their loyalty. She's still holding HamFist in an armlock with his face planted on the floor. "Stop struggling before you break your damn arm," says the CAG who hardly ever swears. Seeing Irene out of the corner of her eye, she mumbles to Paige. "Tell Iris to get rid of that camera."

Whistles are blown, and the cops wade in with billy clubs to break up the remaining fights. The zip ties come out. The active combatants get their attention first - some more belligerent than others. Then anyone with obvious 'battle damage' is asked to go line up over at the wall.

Elena chugs down half the beer she swiped from behind the bar, then raises her hands, slides off the stool, and smirks as she moves over to the wall. "Evening officers," she says cheerfully, her dog tags clinking.

Working his hand over his jaw and wincing afterwards, Gage observes to Charlie, "Don't see Calhoun. He make it out okay?" He lets himself get herded over to the wall, hands on his hips -- gaze straying to one of the nearby Capricans who gets the same treatment, with a brief, wolfish grin. There might just be a faint wince of guilt as he spots the Chaplain praying over there. Godsdamn.

"He was-" Charlie is shoved a bit towards the wall, not moving quite fast enough for one of the cops. "...by the door keeping an eye out." Which means one can presume he made it out. She lines up with the others, lifting a hand to rub at her jaw. There's a glance back to one of the Capricans who is being pulled to his feet by a companion. "Frakker got me good," she mutters to Gage. "Assholes."

Sliding by Irene, Paige murmurs, "Put the camera away, they have a bad habit with 'breaking' things here." she offers quietly before presenting her ID to the MP. "I am afraid I assaulted one of the Marines that attacked my wingmates." comes the delicate admission. And she goes to move to line up on the wall as well. She's still shaking out her hand. "Think I sprained it." There's a frown and a wince as she moves it. "Miranda is going to be cross with me."

Aldrich opens one eye when a cop approaches him, then the other. He stares at him with the most unimpressed look that any chaplain ever did wield, and then casually climbs to his feet as though it were his own idea. He pointedly pays no attention to the cop as he moves from one wall to the other, places his back against it, then sits down cross-legged and closes his eyes again. Ommmm. (Okay, no, he doesn't really make a noise. Funny as that would be.)

Irene ditches the camera with a heavy heart, leaving it on a chair on the sly as she passes by it on the way to the wall. She doesn't look so bad off, as far as 'battle damage' goes. It looks more like she got into a fight with a cake more than anything. She just stands there and turns on the innocence, eyes all big and doe-like, just a babe in the woods here and slightly traumatized. If asked, she produces her ID without a fuss, careful to wipe the icing off it.

Stirling releases the Caprican and raises her hands in a non-threatening manner when the cops wander their way. "She tried to break my frakking arm!" the lug protests to the police, to which Stirling calmly replies, "He tried to assault one of my pilots." She pulls her dogtags from her still-wet shirt and says, "I'm Major Stirling, Caprican Navy on loan to Colonial Forces. I'd like to request my people here -" She makes a vague gesture towards the waiting Wolves. "Be taken to the base while you sort this all out." The cop, unsure what to do, calls over a sergeant, and Stirling steps over to have a quick word with them.

Gage's grunt seems to be agreement with Charlie, or maybe it's an acknowledgement of Evan's likely freedom. "That CAG's got balls," he adds, with a darted glance in Stirling's direction, her 'captive', and her pitch to the locals. "Frak. Should've seen that goat-frakker's face when she dumped my drink all over him. Thought he'd piss himself." He's chuckling now, earning him a sharp look from the police.

Elena isn't very good at looking innocent, so she looks up at the ceiling instead. "Hopefully the brig at the air base is comfy," she murmurs to Paige.

Tilting her head against the wall, Charlie lets out a laugh as Gage retells his end of things. "Fought her own? Well frak me." She's just waiting to have her hands zip-tied at this rate, as if she's old hat. Then again, teenage surfing pro. All those trips away from home, without parental observation? Chances are she got picked up by local police a time or two. Or eight. And that was before she enlisted. "Assholes are just pissed off they needed us to retake Delphi is all. Most important cultural city and they couldn't protect it-" she's getting a few looks, so she glares back at whoever's closest. "Frak you lookin' at?!" So she might still have some adrenalin going.

Aldrich clears his throat, glances over toward Charlie or possibly whoever is nearest, and comments, "Whether you lost or won the battle, it seems we're itching to lose the war." Random chaplain is random. But he then closes his eyes and goes back to meditating (praying? Who even knows with him).

Whatever Stirling tells the sergeant, it must be convincing. Probably some spiel about how the last thing they need is taking the Capricans and the Wolves to the same set of holding cells. That's just bound to not end well. She comes back to the gang to report, "They're going to get the shuttle to take us back to the base. We'll have to give statements of course but they shouldn't keep us long. Those guys I can't do much about." She says with a glance over at the folks who were actively pummeling Capricans when the police came in. Stirling frowns, folding her arms and looking unhappy. "I'd say you're not far off, Chaplain."

There's no reason for Ines to go to the wall. She's not hurt, save her pride, but that's another bag of beans altogether. Still: most of the people she knows and likes are over there, with the exception of Stirling, who says something to the police that wins a startled look from Correa. Not one that lingers. She tilts up off of the table edge and puts some distance between herself and the police, and takes the opportunity to sidle up to where Gage and Charlie are, so that she can say to the Marine out of the corner of her mouth: "So, it was you, right." Not really a question. Looking, as she is, at the ruin of the bar, furniture overturned, drinks spilled, glass shards on the floor. Cake destroyed. "What did you say?"

More chuckling from Gage at Charlie's commentary about Delphi. He reaches for his ear, but there's no spare cigarette tucked here, and the ones he'd usually rely on -- Aleksander and Geoff -- are nowhere to be seen. Instead, he grimaces and folds arms across his chest, and gives an equal, frak off look at one of those glaring at Charlie. Aldrich's words draw his gaze to the Gemenese priest, as he says, "Hey, Chaplain. Sorry about that right hook." When Stirling comes across, he listens, nodding. Then: "Appreciate the support, Major." By his grin, he's probably not talking about the getting them out of jail part so much as the drink in the face part. He glances left as Ines approaches, brows going upright. "Didn't throw the first punch." This time. Having learnt from Aleksander's pitch, he adds, "Frakker was disrespecting the Wolves."

When Stirling comes back with her report, Charlie lets out a long sigh. "Thanks, Major." There's a respectful sort of nod there as the Corporal sags back against the wall. She casts Aldrich a sort of look. For Gage, there's a bit of a grin; camaraderie, after all. When she notices him going for the cigarettes, she offers a helpless shrug. She has none. "Bet we can find some on our way back to base." Maybe. There's a hopeful look towards Stirling. "Sir, think you can, uh... get your marines some cigarettes for their night in lockup? Perhaps?" Hey, they're already in a fair bit of trouble. What added harm can she cause in asking?

Elena gives Stirling a sharp nod at the report. "A night in the brig won't hurt us much. Hope no one was looking for a promotion any time soon though."

Gage earns himself a dry look from the chaplain, who is beginning to look distinctly purpley in the facial area. "The whole thing was idiotic," he murmurs, chiming in to respond to Ines's question, then looks away again, this time to stare blandly at a broken chair some few feet away. "Responding to disrespect only shows the enemy your weakness."

Irene stands against the wall, still finding more icing on her hand from time to time. She eats it. There's a look down the line at Gage, Charlie and Ines and the hint of a laugh she tries to keep under wraps. She is trying to look innocent, after all. She doesn't drop that until Stirling gives everyone the sitrep and she sighs out a bit of relief. "Thanks for the party. It's a good one when it ends with the gods angry with you." She finally smiles.

Ines responds to Gage's answer with an amused but skeptical look, the meaning of which is obvious: that was totally not the question. She lets it go, though, and leans to get a look at Aldrich around the several other bodies between them, her expression is pensive. It's a long moment before she says anything. "I think it might be more complicated than that." Gently said, and even with some hint of apology. She manages to catch Irene's look while she's leaned out that way, and shoots back a theatrical widening of the eyes, paired with a fleeting smile.

"Likewise, Corporal," Stirling replies to Gage, a tiny smirk suggesting she's also referring to the drink incident. Because it would be unbecoming for a Major to deck a Caprican officer, even if he deserved it. There's a little nod toward Charlie. "I'll see what I can do." Stirling takes a seat while they're waiting, and a perceptive sort might notice her fiddling with the camera Irene left on the chair. Pocketing the memory card. Stirling figures this will be enough of a PR nightmare without photos of it being plastered all over the newsnets.

The sniper receives an appreciative look from Gage at her question of Stirling. Regardless of the outcome, he still respects the attempt. At Aldrich's comment about the enemy, his brows go upwards. "Sure you aint got a bit of Tauron blood in there, Chaplain?" His shoulders shift in a mute shrug at Ines' skeptical look. "Welcome to the Wolves," is all he says instead, giving a low chuckle. "Brig time before you've even made it to the Dauntless. That might be a record."

Aldrich snorts faintly at Ines's comment. "Remind me to tell you the parable of the prideful rooster, someday." Such a party-pooper. His brow goes up, and Gage is given another of those bland looks. "No, I think I'm very much Gemenese at this moment." He doesn't often say that like it's a good thing. Whoops.

Irene definitely notices her camera being fiddled with. She is so going to lose that footage and the Timberwolf video yearbook will be lesser for the loss. There's words in her brain that threaten to come out of her face about that, but she's smart enough to bite her tongue. In fact, she doesn't say much about anything. She remembers her Virgon Royal Navy officer's handbook; when neck deep in a hole, quit digging.


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