2237-11-05 - Happy CF Day

The gang gathers on Scorpia for a celebration of the CF's one year anniversary.

Date: 2237-11-05

Location: Restaurant and Bar - Scorpia

Related Scenes: 2237-11-05 - Special Occasion

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1541

Jump to End

Colonel Ryan figured the crew could use a little CF-sponsored downtime after the snafus on Sagittaron. And what better excuse is there than the 1-year anniversary of the formation of the CF military? It's hard to pinpoint a specific day for the anniversary, but it was around this time last year that crew first started arriving here at Scorpia to form the crews for Battlestar Athena and Galactica and their companion vessels.

The Wolves have reserved the restaurant/bar for the evening and reasonable drinks (not the uber-top-shelf stuff) are on the house. Rooms for the night can be placed on the CF's tab as well. The rest of the resort is also open to the Wolves, but the main shindig is happening here in the bar.

There are upsides and downsides to a casual dress code. On one hand, it's pretty easy to relax, and quick to get prepared for. On the other hand, you end up with someone like Gage who clearly didn't prepare at all, wearing shorts, half-unbuttoned shirt and flip-flops like he's just come from the beach. Or a bar at the beach. He's possibly already started drinking, since he's carrying a bottle of something when he heads in with a handful of other marines. There's some cheer of "CF! Hoo-RAH!" going on as they enter.

Calliope reliably hits the shops whenever they get leave on Scorpia, and she's wearing her take from that today. An aquamarine sundress, with the strappy pink heels that are her go-to civvie gear. She does not look like she's engaged in any pre-gaming, judging by the surprised blink she gives when met with Gage's cheering. But she joins it with an awkward, "Uh, Hoo-Rah CF!" Pause. "I should've toasted that. I need a drink, probably." And she heads to the bar, on that note.

Like some others, Astraea is lacking in nice clothing. So the casual dress code is relatively easy to abide by. Unfortunately, the scale is somewhat set by what others consider casual wear. So in her short-shorts and a strappy tank top, she may well stand out when others appear in dresses and the like. She at least changed out of the bikini. As some others, she's pregamed. Not a lot, but enough to have that sort of languid ease in her stride as she makes her way in and starts a beeline for the bar. Free alcohol: yes.

Geoff does not have any nice clothes. At least none that are appropriate for the occasion. But he now owns some jeans, which he has paired with a brightly printed shirt bought in an Argentum Bay shop. It's hard to tell just from looking at him if he's pregamed or not, but he arrives alone and heads straight for the bar.

Given the Virgon media likely isn't going to be covering this shindig, Irene doesn't go overboard with her look for the occasion. A royal blue a-line, knee-length cocktail dress is the main item, with matching, strappy shoes, a light application of cosmetics and a few pieces of tasteful jewelry to complement. All she's done with her hair is put it up in a messy bun. So, for her, casual-ish and an okay comprimise between her usual Argentum Bay off duty wear and total Virgan formality. She seems pretty happy about it, and already more than a bit tipsy. That might be why she's leaning on the other pilot she arrives with, Faye. "Bingo." She chimes, before continuing in a more imperious tone, "I shall require a seat and more libation."

The raptor pilot's contribution, belated or not, earns some grins from the marines. Meantime, Gage is downing the rest of his (non free) beer, stashing his empty bottle on ledge lining the wall that is probably more for decorative than empty-bottle-holding purposes, before he slouches his way towards the bar, while others head for tables. There's an upnod for Courtois as he arrives at the bar, too. "Nice shirt," Gage says with a smirk that suggests his opinion might well lie otherwise.

Calliope orders herself a local cocktail made with a mix of rum and citrus juice, with a festive umbrella stuck in it. Another one of those things she always makes a point of picking up on leave. Astraea is spotted, and given a wave. "Hi, Nova. Happy CF Day! It's weird, right? I guess I did get my post to the Galactica like a year ago, but it doesn't feel like it's been that long."

Geoff is already ordering something clear and fizzy by the time Gage spots him. He turns to face the other one. "I make it look good," he claims. "Don't be jealous." He dips into a pocket for cigarettes.

"Soundbite," Astraea offers to Calliope with a faint smile as she bellies on up to the bar herself. It takes a moment for her to flag someone down (she's neither dressed 'hot' nor loud enough to draw more immediate attention). Her own order is for a cocktail. A specific one. That's heavy on the alcohol. The short pilot leans back on her toes. "Ain't been so long for me. I joined up right before Picon." She looks around the room. "Least it's all Dauntless here, from th' looks of it. Coulda been a mess otherwise." Of way too many people, like has happened on other leave occasions.

It wasn't until Ines, Irene, and Astraea were finishing up a second pitcher of beer and the conversation turned to The Thing Happening Tonight that she realized the venue might be somewhere that she'd feel awkward wearing a uniform. Nobody else was going to be. Last-minute purchases are never exactly ideal, but the thought of being under-dressed has finally been enough to force her into buying civilian clothes.

So: a little pair of linen shorts in black, and a hip-length, boat-neck shirt in plum with elbow-length sleeves. Both colors help her look like she's got some color in her skin, as opposed to the truth, which is that she's gradually losing all of her melanin to life on the Dauntless like one of those sad little shrimps that live in underwater caves. The eyes will go next, probably. Also: boring, closed-toe, nude heels, in patent leather. The only thing they have going for them is how high the heels are, which is 'really high.' Maybe she's angry with her own ankles. Her beeline for the bar is probably meant to do something about the pain receptors involved.

Stirling helped to set things up, so she's been here for a little while. She emerges from one of the back areas of the bar/restaurant, where she was speaking to the hotel caterer. One of the waitresses now follows her out, pushing a tray with a big cake on it bearing the Timber Wolves logo in the center. Nothing too fancy, but best they could do on short notice. "Over there good?" Stirling asks the waitress, pointing to an open spot along a back wall. The other woman obligingly pushes the cake cart over there to set it up. "Help yourselves to some cake everyone," Stirling announces, before heading over towards the bar. The CAG has her hair down, wearing jeans and a simple patterned blouse.

There's a laugh from Faye, who's actually dressed up far more than casual. But, you know, on Virgon gotta make sure that there aren't any rumors that spread. So she's wearing a silver floor-length dress with high heels. To accent it? THere's a vandyke drawn on with marker, and Bingo is intentionally making her voice sound deeper. "What was that, my date as I'm clearly a man?" She doesn't sound particularly sober either.

Giving a snort, Gage says, "If I didn't know better I might accuse you of shopping with Harris." He might not be jealous of Geoff's outfit, but the other marine's reach for his cigarettes earns a flicker of interest, gesturing his wish to take one. "The frak are you drinking, anyway? I hear they're serving the good stuff." Just not the best stuff. He jerks a thumb towards Geoff's glass, "Give me whatever he's having, only the better version of it," which earns a bemused look from the bartender, who sets down a glass that looks almost exactly like what the other marine ordered. Except with one of those fancy umbrellas. He gives it a dubious look, lifts it -- then pauses as he spots the CAG approaching. Apparently that's worthy of a silent toast with a tip of glass in Stirling's direction -- a marine never forgets -- before he takes a generous gulp.

Calliope flits a look around the room, nodding to Astraea. "Yeah, I kind of doubt we'll get a lot of toasts from the Royal Marines. Gods I am happy to be off Sagittaron. I felt like every trip planetside was some kind of frak-up minefield." Now that she has her drink, she raises it awkwardly and shouts, "Ugh, to the CF again!" With alcohol this time. She spots Stirling after doing this, flushing slight. "Evening, sir."

Geoff shrugs. "Anything's better than looking at frakking brown and gray all the time," he says, extending the pack to Gage once he has a cigarette, unlit, in his mouth. "Just regular gin tonic," he says. "But basically anything's good in Argentum, right? They make some frakkin' good stuff. There's this blue thing? And this other thing called a Scorpian Sling."

"I'm terribly sorry, my good man." Irene corrects herself as she pats man-Faye's arm and loses focus to watch the cake being rolled in. When the cart stops and Stirling invites everyone to help themselves she quietly says, "That's very nice. They've brought cake." But, she mentioned libation, so she turns the party of two towards the bar, in the CAG's wake. She'll happily wave to everyone she meets, and sees, really. It's a very queenly wave too, hand up, twist at the wrist, fingers together and still.

There's a sort of blanching from Astraea mentions 'every trip planetside.' The woman takes a long drink of her own cocktail. "Tell me 'bout it." Some of them likely came away from that place with a deeper hatred than others. "Least Scorpia ain't buddy-buddy with Virgon themselves." Perhaps more distaste for Leonis, but still. They had their fair share of frakkery from the Royals, as it were. Many of which -- along with Leonese -- like to call the place a 'dumpster fire.' It's what happen when you divide people and then abandon them. Sagittaron will likely see the same fate someday. When Stirling calls out about the cake, Nova leans up on her toes. "I'll be right back," she says, carting along her drink as she makes for the cake.

She nods her head and waves as well, much more MANLY! With a stiff raise of the arm and a little twisting of the hand from side to side. Yes. Manly. Faye is totally the other's date. She walks alongside Irene and whispers, "Wait... Do I hold your arm or do you hold mine? I'm so backwards right now."

She meant to get to the bar, but partway there Ines glances off to the side at nothing in particular, and there's Faye, with a marker moustache. It's enough that she scuffs a toe and trips a little -- she hasn't worn heels since the war kicked off -- but she recovers quickly enough and breaks into a lash-narrowed laugh. "Bingo. You look so dapper."

"Soundbite, Nova," Stirling greets with a light smile as she approaches the bar, just as Astraea is getting up to get cake. The tip of Gage's glass is noted and recognized with an amused, subtle wave. After getting the bartender's attention, she asks for two bottled beers.

Gage's, "Hoo-RAH!" in response to Calliope's toast is emphatic, earning another downing, gulped mouthful of the gin-and-tonic mix. Maybe the umbrella makes it palatable, or maybe he's already at the point that taste just doesn't matter. He tucks the cigarette from Geoff -- with a nod of thanks -- behind an air, like he normally does on missions. For later, presumably. "Scorpian Sling, huh? I'm game," he makes a gesture as if to say, after you.

Nicole saunters in late. Not that it might be any surprise, she's also pulling off what looks like it could be an apron - the same sort that the people running around here tending are wearing. A pull to remove the clip on tie, and then she pops the top few buttons, giving a flash of cleavage as she walks into the party wearing platform heels. Now.... where's tha man she owes cigarettes.

Geoff toasts vaguely and lights up his cigarette. He finishes off his drink and orders two Scorpian Slings from the bartender, which when delivered are light pink with some fruit in them, though they're /plenty/ alcoholic. "Thank frak for open bar," he says. "I have been /waiting/ to get trashed on the CF's dime."

Calliope's eyes go cake-wards, but she doesn't go for a piece quite yet. She's got more cocktail drinking and slouching at the bar time to log. "Any plans for leave, sir?" she asks Stirling. "I'm going to try and reclaim my tan. Or as much of a tan as I ever get." A wave is directed at Irene and Faye when they're spotted. And Faye's mustache gets a laugh. "Bingo! That is a look. You totally pull it off."

Irene whispers to Faye, "You hold your arm out," And rather than wait for her to figure it out, she manipulates the arm into the proper position and links hers through. Done. "Like that. Now acknowledge the compliments and reply in kind. You are an officer and a gentleman." She further suggests, the whisper a bit louder. With that all sorted, she smiles at everyone nearby but says nothing else. It's handsome Bingo's time to shine.

"I hadn't really given it much thought, to be honest," Stirling admits to Calliope. "Getting a tan sounds relaxing." She notices Geoff and Gage arrive at the bar, and calls over. "Oh, Corporal." She pushes one of the bottles of beer down the bar towards Gage. "Think I owe you one." Considering she dumped his last drink on someone's head. The gesture is largely symbolic since all the booze is on the CF's dime, but, well, there it is. Calliope's laugh draws her attention to Faye, who gets a bemused look.

"Ah, yes!" Faye says as her arm is moved into place. Without missing a beat she holds her hand up and waves to Ines, and then Calliope. As ines was first she nods her head and smiles in a very manly smirk. "Why thank you. You look lovely tonight, not nearly so lovely as my date, but what can I say? She is quite the charmer!" A stiff nod, a pok-pok of the heels as calliope then talks to her. She raises her brows next ot her, "Why thank you! I might add, you quite pull off your look as well. Absolutely smashing, have you met my beautiful date Irene. I believe her callsign is, Iris, is that right?" She looks to Irene for confirmation. YES! NAILING IT!

Gage is side-eyeing the drinks a little, because they have fruit in them, and he tends not to abide fruit ruining his perfectly good drinks. Still, as Geoff points out, it's free, so, he lifts it up. "And so say we all," he agrees fervently with his fellow marine, before he takes a gulp. Apparently it's just alcoholic enough to satisfy him. He glances around -- nope, no one noticed, right?! -- and his brow lifts in surprise at Stirling's words, hand readily snapping out to catch the bottle she slides down. "Think it's the other way around, Major," he says with a grin. "But I won't say no." Because beer tastes better when it's someone else's dime.

Geoff starts in on that one. "Gin and tonic's maybe more your speed but it's no frakkin' fun," he says. Even though he's the one who started with gin and tonic. Or /was/ that his start? Cigarette now lit, he drags on it and pulls over an ashtray.

"Whisper," Astraea offers to the CAG as she passes, drink in hand. The petite Raptor pilot winds her way through the crowd towards the cake because cake. However, as she retrieves a piece, she's actually wrapping it up carefully in a napkin. Saving it for later or to bring someone who isn't exactly present at the moment? One never knows how fast cake will disappear. With the purloined (totally legitimately, mind!) treat in hand, she takes a long sip of her cocktail and stares back at the Wolves by the bar. Likely debating just how to reintegrate herself.

When Faye commits to a theatrical performance, she really commits. Charisma bunk! Ines can't compete with the likes of Faye and Irene for theater, but she does a marvellous impression of a simpering, swooning young lady left behind in the wake of a gentleman markedly out of her league. Wrist to crown, that sort of thing. The tragedy of being overshadowed by a superior beauty, etcetera...!
...yeah. There were two pitchers of beer earlier. Past-tense. This is the result.
She's still trying to snuff out the silly smile that lingers after that moment when she gets to the bar, where she queues like a civil human being, ensuring that her odds of actually obtaining a drink plummet to near-nonexistence.

Stirling smiles at Gage's response. "Not sure how you figure that, considering I appropriated your drink, not the other way around. At any rate, cheers." She lifts her own beer bottle in a little toast and drinks. Only then does she fully study Irene and Faye's performance, still with a vaguely amused expression.

There is no arriving late to a party; it's simply arriving when you want to and that's always been the motto Addison has lived by. Wandering his way in to the gathering that's already well in bloom dressed in of all things a simple pair of shorts and a shirt. Passing by the bar he snags a beer and sidles his way along the edge of it in a silent, observational manner.

Irene puts her hand to the side of her mouth and whispers further direction to her date, Sir Bingo, "They already know who I am, we work together. You should introduce yourself, but under no circumstances should you tell them your name is Dirk." Destination bar for her after that, slipping behind Faye and floating quickly after Ines, playing her role in whatever's going on with an entirely straight face. "Kes... Have you considered my invitation?" She asks, eyebrows slowly creeping up with some hopefulness that wavers a bit when she notices Astraea on the way back. "Nova? Have you reconsidered your opinion of horses?"

"For a worthy cause," is Gage's amused response to Stirling, with a nod of thanks. He's committing, finishing the rest of that Scorpian Sting and nudging it away, before pulling the beer towards him. Clearing his throat, Gage snorts out a laugh, nudges Geoff, and nods in Faye's direction, clearly bemused by her getup. "Well, could be worse. Could've been one of those Caprican officers." The way he says officers sounds like it could be easily substituted for assholes. He gives a flicker of fingers towards Nicole as he notices her, calling in low Tauran, <<Siska. Beer?>>

Geoff looks over his shoulder when nudged. "The frak are they doing?" he wonders. This is his first time to notice the performance. He glances back to Gage. He's known to be touchy about the Caprican thing sometimes. But when it comes to officers, he's got no defense of them. He drinks deep.

The alternative to 'goofy' with Ines when alcohol is involved is obviously 'sentimental.' Her wry look stalls out as Irene poses that question, gradually replaced with a small, tentative, but earnest smile. "Yeah. Um." She's not a shy person, but something about the ask seems to leave her feeling that way. "I'd like to. If you don't think it's -- if it wouldn't be imposing." She glances Astraea's way after that, waiting to see if the Scorpian's done the requisite soul-searching about all things equine.

"Uh, yeah, we've met. Hi, Iris." Calliope offers that to Irene, along with a little toast, as she sips her cocktail. The Faye/Irene pair gets a chuckle. Gage earns a little squawk. "Hey! What's wrong with Caprican officers?" Pause. "I mean, OK, there's stuff wrong with some of them. There are reasons I didn't just join the Caprica air force. But..." She trails off on her not-so-rousing defense of her home colony.

Nicole starts to walk through the party, sticking more toward the edges as she looks left and then right. Her mouth pulling into an easy smile one might expect on any person meandering through the background as they flick about, trying to find someone but seeming to not find who she's looking for. Plan B... She would - What? A turn of her head and she looks at Gage, <<Beer? Sure. Just so long as it's not that Caprican crap.>>

Faye continues off into the party after giving waves from one side and then the other. She gives a half bow in her silver dress to Calliope before turning to look at Irene, whispering, "Okay," before the woman escapes off to talk to others. She walks up to the bar and standing there says, "I would like a brandy please. The manliest one you have. Put it on my tab. Doctor Dirk."

"Are they still terrifyin'?" Astraea halts her drink's progress to her lips at Irene's query. "Then no." She does cast a look over Faye, but doesn't say anything. By this point, there's not much the pair could likely do to earn much beyond a 'huh.' sort of reaction. At least not from the newly reserved Nova. She still holds the slice of cake carefully in hand, making no move to eat it. No, for the moment, her entire focus is on imbibing liquids.

Stirling's eyebrows lift at Gage's comment about Caprican officers, and Calliope's response. "I like to think some of us at least have redeeming qualities," she observes mildly, looking more amused than put out by it. And then when Nicole piles on too, she chuckles softly - even though the words were in Tauron. "Caprican officers, Caprican beer... and here I thought we'd catch a break with everyone mad at Virgon."

"No frakking clue. But more power to them," Gage seems to be in a good mood for once. Must have something to do with the free booze. He takes a long pull off his beer. Calliope's squawk earns a sidelong look. "Aint met too many that weren't assholes." A beat, "Present company excluded," with a sudden grin. Because well, she's probably pulled him out of a shitty ground situation a fair few times over the months, and apparently that counts for something in the marine's book. There's a briefly surprised look at Stirling -- maybe he didn't realize she was Caprican, before he coughs. "Old habits," he says, and then with a glance to Nicole, <<It's not Tauran, but it's not bad,>> he replies, waving toward the bartender to score a beer for his fellow marine.

Geoff finishes his drink and orders one more shot, looking over at Faye with a lifted brow. Then back to Gage and Stirling. "I'm gonna get out of here before I get into another fistfight over Caprican shit," he says. "I want to tear up this frakkin' beach tonight, anyway."

"Well, they're not allowed in the house." Irene says, solemnly, about the horses. So obviously the invite is still open and she's willing to make accomodations for horse-dislikers, even. Then, Ines is given a bright smile, "Not at all. It'll be fun." The way she says that, it's like, if it even gets a little bit unfun she'll do drastic things. Terrible, drastic things. The kind of things she might suddenly be tempted to do to Faye. "What did I just say?!" She blurts, slightly out of character, as she reaches up to plug up Doctor Dirk's mouth with her hand. Stahp!

"I totally have redeeming qualities!" Calliope insists to Gage. She holds up her hands to Geoff. "And I'm totally not fighting tonight. After that mess on Sagittaron, I am never fighting again. Err, without orders." This prompts more drinking. And a wave of her hand to Gage. "Don't sweat it, Tomak. We're all Colonial Forces here. Or something camaraderie-y. I suspect the Public Affairs corps has a slogan for occasions like this."

Stirling seems amused by Gage's surprise, then shakes her head to Geoff, "If I started a fight every time a Tauron insulted Caprica, I never would have survived primary school," she observes mildly, sipping at her drink some more. She nods her agreement with Calliope. "Indeed." The antics of Irene and Faye are glanced at, but Stirling still hasn't quite figured out their game. Or what it might have to do with horses.

Nicole takes the beer that's offered from the bartender and takes a sip as she raises an eyebrow. She looks over Stirling and raises a beer, "It's not that I dislike Capricans. Your people are nice enough, well, as much as any other people. I just hate the beer." She shrugs and takes a sip of it with a bit of a frown down toward her glass.

"No horses in the house?" If Ines weren't tipsy, she might be able to sell that look of disappointment as genuine, like she's actually reconsidering her interest now that she knows they won't be able to bring the horses inside. But she is, and the look doesn't last, anyway. She decides to take advantage of Faye's ability to aggressively acquire drinks by poking her once in the ribs. "Could you get me something, too?" She should probably not be vague, but she's had just enough to drink already that she's not thinking about the dangers of that.

"Aint no one fighting tonight," Gage sounds pretty sure of that. Certainly, he seems pretty mellow about it all, maybe due to the copious amounts of alcohol, the fact they're on actual R&R, or otherwise. "Later, Courtois," he says, with a lift of fingers. Calliope's protest earns a grin. "You do," he says, after a squinting moment. "I think you're good at pool, right?" he's reaching, probably misremembering, but hey, he's trying. "And your CAG's pretty badass, so, I guess you're not all bad." Yeah, he'll never say that sober, more than likely. He reaches to knock the top of his beer bottle against Nicole's in toast.

Geoff downs his shot, clamps his cigarette in his mouth, and lifts a hand in a wave before he hits the road. He was probably just looking for an excuse to do that, anyway.

Even so, Astraea seems skeptical. "How... big is this place? Hawk an' Milkman were tellin' me 'bout estates once and... It just seems too much." She holds her glass a bit tighter, looking somewhat anxious. "All that wasted land an' room, y'know? And now horses?" To her mind, it may be that she'd be a prisoner in the house, with horses lurking around every corner and tree outside!

The hand over her mouth marks her stop and she stares over at Irene, "I apologize, my lady. I was simply trying to buy us drinks. As it right. For us male companions." In drag, with marker vandykes, "My deepest apologies. What ever will it take to make it up to you?" She stands as erect as possible, and picks up her glass of brandy. Swirl, swirl, sip... SPIT! Ew.

Irene lets out a long breath. It's not a sigh, but it almost turns into a uuuuuuh. Almost. "If you don't want to, it's fine, Nova. I get it. Virgons are bad. Horses are bad. Virgon horses are the worst ever." Her mouth shutting hand is taken back, "Buy everyone a round for me, Doctor Dirk and I'm going to stand over there for a minute." By the cake. She turning that way when she realizes it's Stirling in the jeans, so nods through an impulse to salute. "Sir." Then she's going to go have her stand off and maybe some cake.

"I'm decent at pool!" Calliope affirms with a smile to Gage. She will happily take the compliment on her bar game skills. "And on the whole not-fighting thing, I think I require cake as a drink buffer." With that, she heads over to get herself a piece.

Stirling lets out another chuckle at Gage's comment. "Well, I don't know about that. But <<thank you>>." The last words are offered in rough but passable Tauron. She nods to Nicole, "Fair enough. This beer is pretty decent," she observes, of the local brew bottle she's holding.

Nicole clinks the glass back and then raises her own to Stirling then, "May the beer not suck, and the company be grand. But above all, thank the gods we're on land." She takes a sip of her beer.

"Want to throw down sometime?" appears to be Gage's concession to Calliope. That's right, solve world problems over pool bets and beer. What a peacemaker. And then she's off for cake, and Stirling's speaking Tauran. There's another flicker of surprise and this time, Gage is taking note -- something wary briefly in his expression. "Huh," and then, <<Welcome,>> with a sudden grin. "And so say we all!" is his hearty affirmation of Nicole's sentiment, drinking deeply of the beer.

Operation 'Get Faye to Get Her a Drink' fails spectacularly, and the other person Ines would ask is Irene, and she's -- well, that's an awkward moment. She pivots to face the other way without much of a plan, but then-
"Cage!" No, wait. "I mean, Gage!" She never calls him that. First time for everything. "Could you-" One hand up, she gestures loosely at the bartender on the other side of a single row of people from herself. This is an apparently insurmountable obstacle for her. "They never notice me! It's a curse."

"That's not..." but Irene is departing and Astraea's shoulders just sag a bit as she sighs. Both her hands are full, so she just ends up rubbing at her brow with the side of the hand holding her cocktail. "I never said..." But it's clearly too late and the woman just rests back on her heels before turning to angle for the bar. She downs the rest of her drink before she gets there and leans out to call for a whiskey. Double. Neat.

Calliope smiles broad at Gage's question. She's apparently easy to make peace with, if it involves billiards.

Faye stands at the bar and nods her head, "Yes! Yes! Quite right, I'm deeply sorry my beautiful date. I will gladly buy everyone a round." She turns to the bar, and gestures, "Everyone, a round on me. Your middle-shelf if you would please." Or, in other words, the most expensive free stuff. She nods, err he nods, and turns to look for his date. Ah, there she is by the cake. She leaves the drink behind in exchange for a tray, which she offers to Ines and Irene, before the glasses of middle-shelf booze come to Gage and Sterling's group, "Ah! I hear you are the commander of this group." Faye says to Stirling, and nods her head, very manly! Yes! YOU GOT THIS FAYE! "Quite the amazing wing of pilots. Very good, all of them, especially the Raptor pilots." YES! Two points for complimenting her date too! Right? That's how this works?

Calliope smiles broad at Gage's question. She's apparently easy to make peace with, if it involves billiards. "Totally! The table on the Dauntless isn't terrible. It's finally getting enough dents in it to be fun. I'm trying to stock up on stuff to tide me over for the next tour while we're on leave, so I'll have some decent stuff to bet." She looks faintly triumphant at Stirling's input in Tauran...which she also plainly doesn't understand a word of, but she enjoys it by CAG proxy. re

Irene finds her way to the cake cart easy enough, but never gets around to actually getting a piece. It just gets stared at, not angrily or anything. It's a nice cake. She's just two, maybe two and half sheets to the wind and might have forgotten that cake is for eating, or that she was upset about something and standing by herself for a minute was the plan. A little quiet staring at dessert ought to sort her right out though. Eventually. If she doesn't pass out first.

"I'll drink to that," Stirling agrees with Nicole, smiling lightly and taking a drink. The bottle is just being lowered from her lips when Faye is calling to her. The CAG arches her eyebrows. "Uh. Thank you," is offered somewhat slowly, perplexed and certain this is a prank of some sort she just hasn't figured out yet.

Once she has whiskey in hand, Astraea simply upends it into her mouth. She drinks it down quickly and just needs a few seconds of eyes closed before she exhales the burn. A pilot's gotta be able to drink. It's part of the resume. The glass is left on the counter before she pushes away, still holding that reserved piece of cake. There's another look to Irene by the main dessert before the Scorpian starts to angle her way for the exit.

"You're on. Just make sure you bring some Tauran beer," Gage tells Calliope. Because that stuff is worthy of betting, for a Tauran at least. There's an abrupt tension as Gage hears that, Cage, earning an instant scowl that stays when he turns his gaze on his bunkmate. So much for mellow. What a look, so expressive in his scowling sentiment turned on Ines. He's momentarily distracted by Faye's approach -- she earns a scowl too, just by dint of being present in that moment. "Aint getting you nothing fancy," he replies to Ines, before he leans forward and mutters something to the bartender. Gage's probably tall enough to reach back and hand the drink back over to Ines. It's a clear liquid, no ice. It certainly smells alcoholic and strong.

Look: look at the trusting soul that is Ines Correa, flashing a smile at her bunkmate for retrieving her a drink. She doesn't seem to process the scowl, but in her defense, he wears that expression a lot. "Thanks!" And then there's Faye with a tray of lovely-looking drinks after all. Some of them are fruity and cute, and have inedible things stuck in them. She looks at them with some momentary longing, but it would be rude to take one after having Tomak get her something else, so she shrugs and lifts the glass in her hand. "Ah, snuck one in! Thanks though."
It's only then, after the adorable drinks have moved on, that she actually takes the time to look at what she's been given, and concern makes its first appearance. She lifts it. She sniffs. Her eyes water. The realization that mistakes may have been made is slowly sinking in.

Calliope makes short work of that cake, doing a little more mingling and drinking, but she gradually fades into the background. Eventually she'll wind her way back to her room.

Faye moves off to her date once more with the pok of her heels and a bit more sway than she meant... What? She's been drinking too, and stops at the cake. She holds out the tray to Irene. "For you, my dearest date." She nods and stands straight again, only a slight sway now that she's still.

Stirling is still a bit perplexed by the act going on over there, but finishes off her drink and rises. She speaks to a couple of the other pilots briefly before wandering off to another part of the resort.

Nicole gives a toast back to Stirling and smiles a bit dryly before continuing on with her beer with a dry laugh.

Gage is watching. His scowl threatens to deepen at Ines' apparent moment of hesitation (or regret, as the case may be). Apparently he intends to keep looking until she drinks, sipping at his beer. There might be a hint of satisfaction in his gaze as he pushes away from the bar and over towards her. "Something wrong, Correa?"

Eyebrows angled into a worried configuration, Ines turns her head to search for Faye, as though she could maybe surreptitiously swap this glass of -- what is this? -- with one of the cute drinks she saw earlier. That plan becomes impossible when Gage refuses to focus on anything else.

"What? No!" From somewhere underneath the chilly burden of a nameless, building dread, she dredges up a smile. It's very...stiff. "It's fine!" It doesn't smell fine. "Thanks!" And then she's actually trying to edge away, half-turning, like she's due back at a conversation with Irene, which she is not. "There's cake, so I'm...gonna..."

"Hmm?" Irene responds, slowly. Oh, drink. She takes the one, lifts it up to Faye in a silent toast and tips it back in one go. That's probably not a great idea. "I am." Think. "Going to my room. Dirk. I don't even care." She puts her empty glass down almost in the cake, but luckily lands it more on the tray. Good enough. "Tell Tomak I'll get him his beer after I get back from Virgon." Wait, he's right here. She peers towards where she's sure she last saw him, swaying and points in his general direction, ominously. "When I get back from the happy pony sparkle party." She'll start to make her exit then, since she has that other party to attend or has to fall asleep in the hall outside her room. Something.

Gage grunts by way of response to Ines. "Aint you going to drink? It's special, made in the village I grew up in." He's making that shit up, but how could she possibly know that, aside from the grin that splits his features. He could just be super proud, and heck, it's an improvement on the scowl. Gage turns his baffled gaze on Irene, brow furrowing in sudden concern. There's drunk, and then there's sparkle pony party drunk. "You okay Harris?" It's a moment of inattention that could be taken advantage of, if Ines were quick.

Faye sets the tray down and then joins in beside Irene as she starts off, "Right! Right, we probably should. I'm sure we can tell him at a later date! Hah! Get it? Because you're my date! Hah Hah Haaaah." And she runs an arm around Irene's waist as she steps out of her high heels... She was getting good at that!

Here's what Ines isn't tonight: quick. Two pitchers of beer. Two. She was just one of three people involved, but one of them was Irene, and just look at how that's turning out! Besides, anything serious enough to get Tomak looking worried is probably worthy of attention. It's enough to interrupt her not-as-subtle-as-she-thinks-it-is suspicious look, but while she misses the opportunity to find a potted plant to dump the drink into, she's able to recover and come up with an idea that'll kill two birds with one stone. "Maybe someone should make sure they get back, um...safely."

"I'm okay." Irene lies. "Everybody hates Virgons and my raptor exploded and I was in it, but I'm okay." Which might have made it a little more traumatic, certainly. How that's connected to everybody hating her colony isn't entirely clear, but she's okay! "We got a cake." She adds as if that's somehow very relevant. When she gets a steadying arm around her waist she smiles a bit, and walks precariously onward on her heels. On the way, she turns to look over her shoulder and politely offer a farewell, "Bye!"

Gage turns his gaze back to Ines, and now, not only has she not imbibed the drink he went to all that effort to get for her, she also wants him to be chivalrous. The frak? He kind of does this weird staring thing where he's oscillating between between scowling and bemused. And then it clicks. Not him, her. And then he's eyeing Ines, along with Faye with her arm around Irene's waist, and he's grinning, because suddenly it's perfectly clear in his drunken state what's going on. "Uh-huh. Yeah. Go do that." He totally knows the score, now, that grinning expression turned back on Irene. He totally buys the lie. "Cake, huh?" He infuses two simple words with all sorts of insinuations. "Have fun."

Ines stares. She stares at the scowl expectantly, stares at the sudden grin with some bafflement. And although she misses the insinuation being made, when he says the words 'go do that' she stares at him incredulously, and jabs a finger downward, turning one of her feet slightly to the side to give him a better look at the Extremely High Heel on her shoe, which is what she's pointing at. "Are you out of your mind? What am I supposed to do to protect them if some...person...looms up out of the darkness-" Like they do, and absolutely in real life rather than the movies, "-to menace them? Break my ankle at them?"

In the background, Ines and Faye are probably drunkenly tottering out of the room and out into the street, which Ines, in her deep concern for the two of them, fails utterly to notice.

Gage squints down at her heels as if baffled. "If you want to creep on them in the lift and up to a room, be my guest. I have other plans for my night in a plush hotel. There was this pretty girl at the restaurant who was talking about Cage Lowjack, you know?" It might be true. It might not. He gestures towards her, "You gonna drink the drink I got for you, or not?" With a fold of his arms across his chest. He's going to remember this, surely, whatever the answer.

It's possible for someone more sober than she is to watch the realization sink in. It starts as suspicion, gradually accumulating trace evidence from the last five minutes, and evolves at some point into doubt. Disbelief. Reassessment. Realization, and then-

"You think I'm-" She turns her head to look over her shoulder. The other two pilots are definitely gone. "With them?" Eyes wide, she turns that look of astonishment back on him, narrowing her eyes momentarily as though second-guessing: no way. He wouldn't. But no, her eyes unsquint. Yes, he would. For a long moment that incredulous, jaw-dropped look persists, finally ending with lidding eyes and a flattening expression.

"You're mad," she decides, and with what she hopes is an incensed look drains the glass in her hand in one go. The regret hits her before the burn does. She sets the glass down with a clack and then gives his chest a weak shove, grimacing. "Gods! The liquor from your-" Almost-burp. "-home village tastes like a pickled foot! There's nothing alright with that! What is wrong with your mouth!" And with that she about-faces, prepared to stalk off.

Okay, it's hard not to react to her reaction, especially with this much alcohol behind it. It only takes a moment for Gage to start laughing -- that kind of infectious belly laugh that can only come with the truly drunk. "Correa, your face. Frak, wish I'd a camera," he says, fervently, and then, in Tauran, because it comes more easily, <<Wait, we have another tradition. Once you drink the first you have to drink a second--!>> He's clearly bullshitting her, though he won't, mercifully, try and stop her.

Ines is still wearing the crumpled look of someone undergoing a personal tragedy as she does stalk out, stopping only once to (while lamenting in Leonese in a steady stream that veers between exasperated, irritated, and weepy in tone) grab a piece of cake to take with her.

Priorities.


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