2237-11-14 - The Blue Drinks

Sunny wants ALL THE BLUE DRINKS. Al and Yelena catch up.

Date: 2237-11-14

Location: The Cove

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1566

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Maybe a blessing, maybe just red tape delays, but the Dauntless is still in port (as it were), meaning her crew still has plenty of free time when not on the limited duty shift. The Cove, placed conveniently on the beach, is often host to a number of military personnel. It's convenient, it has good views, and has plenty of booze. Not just Scorpian 'flavors.'

Yelena's wearing a pair of black shorts and a green tanktop. The latter is loose enough to show hints of a bikini underneath. Settled at a table that faces the sunset, she's got her hands around a large stein of beer and is just drinking while alternating her gaze between the view and a trio of marines playing the Pyramid-X game.

Aldrich has been walking on the beach... alone. As you do. But as sunset arrives, he wanders up toward the Cove and the promise of booze (or at least shelter from the evening breeze). He steps inside with a glance around, and once he identifies where the bar is, he starts in that direction. He does, however, note Yelena as he passes, and gives a faint but friendly smile of recognition on his way by.

Sunny bursts in. Literally. "Do you guys sell this, like, blue drink or something -- I don't know its name -- that's, like, real popular just -- " The bartender cuts her off, nodding. " -- you do? Trembling tacos, that's awesome!" She claps her hands together, and bounces on her feet for a couple of seconds. "Okay, like, I think I need -- hmm -- two? No, four. Four, yeah, four -- can I get four, please? I haven't had enough to drink yet."

Uh. Yeah, she probably has, but oh well. Sunny's an energetic, erratic bit of sparkle-dust. Shit.

She looks around, but she doesn't recognize Yelena or Aldrich -- immediately, at least. She probably would once the alcohol soaks into her tissues and hopefully calms her down to an Excitement Level of 3 or lower.

The place has just about everything. It serves military personnel from all twelve colonies, after all. But those bright, fruity drinks? They're a specialty. Required, even, for beach side hangs. Yelena, however, just has a beer in hand. She's mid-sip as Aldrich goes past. There's a brief furrow of brow as she searches her memory and... ah! The man is given an upnod of greeting and, should he look back? She nudges a chair out with a be-sandaled foot.

It could easily be mistaken as an invitation by others, too.

Manic Sparkle Pixie earns a slightly nonplussed look from Aldrich as he waits to place his own drink order, but when it's his turn, he gives a mild, "I'll have what she's having. Except just one." Hey, the blue drinks are /good/ but maybe not four drinks good. He gives a little smile to Sunny, waits for his drink to be poured, then retreats again. He must have spotted the subtle invitation, because he carries his drink back to Yelena's table and sits down, with just the faintest sigh. "Good evening."

Sunny beams pleasantly in the bartender's direction, and looks to Yelena when she nudges a chair out. For a moment, it looks like she feels like she's invited, but then Aldrich takes the seat and, well, noooooo. Apparently not. Disappointment, but it lasts for a millisecond before she exclaims, "Holy crap, that drink looks gorgeous. Wow." She receives it with both hands, and laughs admiringly. "Wow. I mean, I feel weird just consuming something this pretty."

It is a nice, deep blue. But it's still just a blue drink.

There's a brief smile over the edge of her drink and Yelena sets the mug down on the table. She's finished off only about a third of the thing, but it's large enough to be the equivalent of at least two bottles. "Nice to see a familiar face," she says to Aldrich, in a quiet voice. "When did you transfer out?" She is watching Sunny as she talks; lips twitching at the corners in mild amusement.

"Likewise," Aldrich replies, fairly solemnly for someone who is about to enjoy a neon-colored alcoholic beverage. "A few months? Feels like years," he jokes, weakly, but pauses to take a sip of his drink before continuing. "You? I don't think I've seen you around. Did you just transfer in?" He is also somewhat distracted by Sunny's... well, sunny-ness.

Whether or not Sunny's sunniness is true or bolstered by alcohol is difficult to tell. There's a bit of absent-mindedness in her empty-headedness. "This -- this is less a drink than it is a work of art," she declare to no one in particular before she takes a long sip of it. A long, long sip of it.

Her eyes roll back after she swallows. She closes her eyes after for a second, and sort of shivers. Was it that good?

"I need a place to sit," she mumbles, again to no one in particular. There's a stool nearby, on which she perches herself a moment later to enjoy whatever's going on in her mouth. It clearly seems to have an effect on her body.

"I was posted to the Kratos with Taskforce: Phoenix a few months ago. I'll be serving on the Dauntless now, however." Yelena's accent has a decided Tauran cant... if the tattoos weren't evidence enough of her colonial origins. She looks over towards Sunny, as well. She blinks a couple times, then notices that Al is watching, too. "Do you.. know her?"

Aldrich raises his eyebrows a little. "Oh? Well, we'll be glad to have you. We could use some... ah. Friendly docs." His attention is drawn back to Sunny, and he shakes his head slightly. "Know her? No, I don't think so. She looks familiar though." He smiles, then, mildly. "And she's certainly enjoying herself, isn't she?"

To be fair, Sunny's a medic. And like many medics on board, she's filled the role of 'Bitch Tuesday' in the sickbay from time to time. She's gleefully willing to do just about anything down there, but man it's hard to appreciate how chipper she is when she's changing bedpans.

"Mm." Sunny takes another long sip from her drink. "Mmmm." And another. "Oh, wow." And another. "Oh, wow." And another.

Yep. Drinking can be just as euphoric as sex, apparently.

"You're on the Dauntless?" It's not the only ship in dock at the moment, after all. That earns Aldrich a slightly broader smile from Yelena. "Good to know. It's been... overwhelming, so far. The way everyone bunks together is... well, on Kratos, medical staff had their own berthings. We weren't with everyone. The Wolves are a... strange setup." But she's looking back to Sunny, brow furrowed. "I'm not sure she's okay."

Aldrich raises his eyebrows slightly. "Oh, yes." He chuckles faintly, with an apologetic tone. "Sorry, it's been a difficult couple of days. I'm afraid I'm not exactly thinking clearly." He doesn't explain exactly how or why it was difficult, apparently preferring instead to move on to the topic of Sunny. "I don't know. I think many people get a bit strange on shore leave."

In the intervening time between when she ordered and when she finishes off her first drink, the bartender has made the remaining three Sunny ordered. The medic polishes off her own drink, and then sets the empty glass aside.

"That was amazing. Wow." She snickers at the bartender. "Goes down real smooth and sweet. Can't beat that!" Sunny then slides over currency to pay for it all, and then picks up the three drinks she has in her hands. "I'm going to find a nice table out on the beach, and just toast out there -- I just know it." Not that the bartender cares. "But thank you, thank you. I'm -- this is going to be a great couple of hours."

And then, off she goes to drink. Life's simply for Aerilonians, apparently.

"Was it a difficult campaign?" Yelena watches Sunny go before giving a small shake of her head and turning back to Aldrich proper. She picks up her beer, taking a long drink. "I've heard bits and pieces 'round the ship. Sagittaron, yeah? Something about insurgents?" There's a sort of wry tone to her voice. Even the word 'insurgents' is spoken in almost disbelief. But then... Tauron.

Aldrich shakes his head a little, his expression darkening a little. There's something different about him than when she knew him before. He's more solemn and less prone to smile than he once was. "The Virgans are fracking baby killers." Another sentence he probably wouldn't have said before. At least not quite that way. "And they got some of our people killed in the process."

Yelena blinks a few times, clearly surprise. On a few counts. She doesn't protest the claim of what Virgans are. After all... Tauran. "Well. Yes." She takes a long drink of her beer. "Frakked up they got your people killed. I'm sorry to hear that. Hope you tore 'em a new one."

Aldrich hesitates a little before admitting, "I may have started a bit of a fist fight on the Virgan base." He smiles, without humor, and has a longer drink of that blue cocktail. He sighs a bit. "I'm ready to go back to fighting monsters, rather than being expected to work with them."

"You?" Yelena looks a touch surprised at this. "You started a fight?" She laughs, once, into her stein before taking a long drink. "Frak me, but things have changed since the Legion." She leans back, crossing her legs and balancing her drink in her lap. "No one, I think, enjoys fighting other people," she decrees, even if she knows it to be a lie. It's one for the chaplain's sake. "Fighting Cylons is easier and something we can all agree on."

Aldrich smiles, still without too much humor. "Yes, a bit. But I think sometimes people forget the more...martial aspects of the gods..." He looks down at his drink, unconvinced by her lie, and takes a deep breath. "Well, anyway. How have /you/ been since the Legion?"

"Some people, maybe," Yelena says, rubbing her index finger against her lower lip. "My people are often keenly aware." But then, Taurans tend to be rather 'fight' inclined as it is. The war suits them, in a twisted way. She gives a small shrug at his question. "Busy. Busier. The Fleet is..." She exhales slowly, looking down to her beer. "They're going at it hard. Much more than the Legion ever did."

Aldrich nods slightly, and gives another wan smile. "Yes. And the Wolves go harder, I think. At least, it seems that way." He has another drink of the blue stuff. "Another change from the Legion, by the way. They've got me going into the field." He looks at his glass, tilting it to watch the contents swirl around. "On a volunteer basis. But I agreed."

That earns a broader look of surprise. Yelena lowers her drink, holding it with both hands in her lap. "The field? You?" Her lips twist wry. "The Wolves really are quite different." She shakes her head slowly. "I picked a bunk, but I still feel as if... is it the right one? Will I be welcome there? It was really much easier when it was all assigned and sorted by role."

Aldrich lifts a shoulder slightly. "Well, I mean. It gives me a better chance to provide last rites when needed... And I help the medics." There's probably more to it, but he leaves it at that. His smile splits into a crooked grin at the worry about the bunk. "To be honest, I think it's good. It keeps us close-knit. And I doubt you'll be unwelcome, regardless of which bunk you picked."

"I hope you don't have to perform last rites often." Yelena looks a touch concerned about that. For all her gruffness and utter lack of fraks to give in the face of dire injuries, she is a healer at heart. "It is war, but..." Loss of life is loss of life and when it's on your side? She does answer his grin with a brief smile of her own, lifting her beer for a long drink. "That's what I've been told."

Aldrich's previous solemn look returns when she mentions last rites. "More often than I want." He finishes off his drink, and blinks owlishly. Perhaps the alcohol is kicking in. He takes a deep breath, "Speaking of unwelcome..." He pushes his glass away, and starts to scoot back his chair. "I have to go find my girlfriend and find out if she's still my girlfriend. But it was nice seeing you again. I'm glad you're going to be with us."

There's an arch of brow from Yelena as Aldrich pushes away from the table. She clears her throat in an attempt to hide a chuckle, but the twinkle in her eye likely makes it obvious yet. "Well. Good luck with that. Can't be sleeping on the proverbial couch after all." She lifts her mug in a form of salute. "Hopefully I'll see you around. And not in sickbay."

Aldrich lifts a shoulder a bit. "From your lips to the gods' ears. This one might be the proverbial curb." But he smiles and lifts a hand. "You'll see me in there helping make the patients comfortable, but I'm sure you'll see me around the ship, also. Come by the chapel, if you like. It has a lovely view." And with that, he starts off, walking with only the slightest of unsteadiness.


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