PHD 263: Getting Bombed
Getting Bombed
Summary: Three of pilots drink and one does not.
Date: PHD 263
Related Logs: None.

Is it any wonder Eddie's found this place as soon as the rumor surfaced? She looks right at home with the canned music, crappy lighting, and pilfered furniture. Mooner's occupying a table at the back that's actually an old spool for some conduit, sitting on a crate for a chair. She's even shimmied into some civillian clothes, too, for that matter. An enamel mug of clear liquid sits infront of her, being poked at with her index finger.

If there is a bar open anywhere in the universe at this point Castor is there, or rather, here in Harry Leomon's - he is not in his civilian clothes as much as he is in his off duties, he walks up to tbe bar and he orders….a glass of ice water as he goes to take a seat across from Eddie, "Problem with your booze, Edders?" He asks curiously as he waits for his ice water.

Eddie holds up her finger, showing flecks of something darker sticking to her pad. "I think it's…rust. Not that it bothers, just adding to the local flavor." As if to prove the fact, she licks the bit of moisture off her finger. Waste not, want not. "You're the only man who comes to a bar and orders ice water, Leda."

As ice water is brought to him Leda explains, "I made a promise to a friend not to drink, Mooner, so I am keeping my promise." He takes a sip of his water, "Though that might have been a promise I shouldn't have taken." He says as he looks over at Eddie's drink, "As for the flavor, we could all use a bit of iron in our diets." He sniffs trying to figure out what Eddie is drinking and when he can't figure it out he asks, "Is that vodka?" He then leans back against his 'seat' as he watches Eddie with her drink.

Eddie hitches her head at the giant still behind the bar. "It's whatever they pour into a glass when you grunt and nod." Grain alcohol. Great for getting drunk quickly and possibly stripping the paint off a Viper if you happen to hurl it back up. "Which friend?" She asks, actually making an effort at keeping up with conversation for once. Her booted foot nudges out another crate, if he's so inclined.

Castor says, "An old friend." He isn't naming names for now but he notices the grain alcohol and a smile comes to his face, "That is some heavy stuff to drink, Mooner, you must be a professional at this point." This is said admirably to Eddie as he takes another sip of his water, "Anyway, are you still going along with this prank war?" He then pauses and after a moment he asks, "And are you sweet on Exile?"

Eddie just about chokes on her drink with his last question, causing her to gasp for air that comes in pure fire. Her eyes even start watering, and as she's trying to regain her composure, she has to wipe tears away with the palms of her hands. "Day two of no retribution. I'm beginning to feel unloved." She says, her voice a little hoarse. "I'm trying to swear off pilots. Less of a headache for Marek that way." Which is to say, Eddie does not confirm nor deny.

When Eddie speaks Leda catches the choke, which, isn't hard to catch and he says, "You want some of my water?" Leda and Eddie sit at what can be called a table in a bar, maybe the last one in the universe, and they are catching up and talking about this and that. "And as for Marek, good on you, but from an outisder it looks like you are pulling some sort of piloty mating ritual with the man. I'm just saying so that you know." He takes a sip of his water and he adds, "And I don't know about feeling unloved, some of the greatest pranks need time to settle in. Still though you two are running around like a pair of kindergartners pulling at each others hair."

Eddie waves off the offer of water, or is she trying to backpedal out of this conversation entirely? She sets down her glass of grain alcohol, scooting up taller in her chair. "I guess if you're going by playground rules." Eddie concedes mildly. Being on a non-military ship, Eddie's gone for civilian clothes tonight, tossing on a pair of blue jeans and a man's white dress shirt. Her boots and dog tags still remain, however. "What about you. Who are you tapping?"

The hatch grinds open with a bunch of new arrivals from Hestia wandering in for the night shift of boozin' — and in their number is Isaiah Harrison, who pauses to eye the still with something akin to honest respect. "Well, I'll be damned," he mutters to the nearest passerby. "Moonshine." As he ambles further into the bar, he lifts his hand in greeting to the pilots he recognizes — although Eddie in her civvies causes him to take a double take.

Leda shrugs and he says, "Mooner, do I look like I am tapping anyone?" He offers this as an honest question because truth be told Leda hasn't been seen chasing after anyone. As the subject starts to change Leda looks over at Eddie, "You clean up nice though…maybe your new prank war comerade will show up and you can knock his socks off?" He then looks over at the door and he mutters softly to Eddie, "And look what the cat just dragged in."

Eddie pins her hair back from her face with one hand, "Do I /look/ like I can knock anyone's socks off?" She repeats in the same inflection of voice that Leda himself just used in reference to him 'tapping' anyone. When the man in subject enters, Eddie leans around Castor to see. "I'll be frakked sideways by Zeus' pronged dick." Ever hear that term 'cuss like a sailor'. Yeah, Eddie likes that one. She smacks Castor in the arm with a little balled up fist (goodnaturedly if rough) as if he summoned the devil himself.

"I'll have some of that," Exile orders as he reaches the bar, ending up with a glass of hooch shoved into his hand. " With a nod of thanks and a salute to the pudgy man in the picture, he pushes away from the bar and heads for Viper country. "Evening, kids. What's shaking?" With a grin, he lifts his glass and tosses back a measure — then coughs and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. "That's the good stuff."

"I'll have some of that," Exile orders as he reaches the bar, ending up with a glass of hooch shoved into his hand. With a nod of thanks and a salute to the pudgy man in the picture, he pushes away from the bar and heads for Viper country. "Evening, kids. What's shaking?" With a grin, he lifts his glass and tosses back a measure — then coughs and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. "That's the good stuff."

Color Leda amused since Isaiah is in the room and he he is equally amused by Eddie's reaction punch and all as he looks over at Isaiah and he say to Eddie, "Yeah, I think you could knock just about anyone's socks off if you hit them hard enough. Though the question here is, will he spot you and join us?" And as Harrison comes over he says, "I do believe he is going to join us." Leda looks at Eddie, "Don't worry, give me a sign and I can run interference for you." Spoken like a true street rat and with an equally conspiritorial wink as he takes a sip from his ice water. He looks over at Harrison, "Not much, yourself?"

Eddie slouches back in her chair, hitching up one booted foot in the seat with her. Look. She's casual. She's chill. Unlike Castor who just about looks like the cat who at the canary. "Anyone ever tell you you're smooth, Leda? They were lying." Mooner finally offers Harrison a lopsided lazy smirk as he joins them. "Looking to get drunk and do something stupid. You?"

Harrison glances back and forth between the two for a moment. "I thought I'd see what all the talk is about," he offers before he claims himself a chair. "I didn't realize they were making their own hooch over here."

Castor takes a sip of his not-booze and he looks at Eddie, "Never said I saw smooth, Mooner…blunt object that is me." He sets his water down and he looks over at Harrison, "Well, I figure a bar opens and I have to see it." He then asks, "Now, the real question is why did you pick now to come in? This isn't some nefarious prank plot is it?"

"I hear Harry Lemon died in the first prototype of the still when it exploded." See? This is how rumors start, or at least get propagated. Mooner eyes the level of liquor left in her glass before taking another sip. Even she won't just down this stuff in one shot. At least not this early in the evening. Her gaze flicks up between Castor and Harrison, "Yeah, Shep. We got bored pranking each other, now we're double teaming up on you. Might want to rethink that water you're drinking."

Harrison is quiet for a few moments, glancing back and forth between Eddie and Castor before taking another sip. "I came over here to get a drink. I didn't even know you frakkers were here stinking up the place, or I might have stayed over on Hestia." He lifts his glass and salutes with it before taking a man sip, which is almost like a drink except … not. "No wonder Harry Lemon died," he whispers, post-cough. "I bet the fire burned for a month."

Leda looks over at Eddie, "Is that so?" He tilts his head slightly, "Well, that is somethting I hadn't heard. I'll make sure the information gets around though." See, this is how rumors get spread. "Anyway…" He looks at Harrison, "Hey, don't hate us for being awesome and finding this place." He takes another sip of his water, "Or maybe you are just jealous that we got here first."

Eddie drags her foot off the chair to pop into a standing position. "I vote jealous." She says, and finishes off the last of her drink. Gods that burns. There's a shiver that telegraphs up her spine and causes goosepimples to stand out on the line of her collarbone and what is exposed of her so very very scarred arms. "Ready for another round?" She asks Harrison. So what if he just started on that glass. Seeming how she's on her feet, she seems to be volunteering to fetch it.

Sizemore tentatively heads into the place, not entirely sure what exactly to expect. He catches sight of a couple of his fellow pilots, and heads on over. "So what's the poison of choice?" He stops short of taking a seat, having not being invited to join them after all.

"Yeah," Isaiah replies to Mooner, offering a small smile. "I think that two should be enough, though. Any more and I'll be sleeping on Harry's table, such as it is." He takes a longer pull from his glass, getting the level of booze down to about halfway, and only a couple of heavy shudders. "Frak… it's moonshine, Crunch. Best rotgut I've had out of a still this side of … Sagittarius." A beat. "I think."

Castor looks at Isaiah and he sniffs and he says, "I'm thinking not so much…based on the smell. Seems a bit heavy…if you can swirl it for me I can tell you about how much alcohol is in this mix." Leda might not be drinking now but once upon a time he was leg….wait for it and hopefully no one is lactose intollerant because the second part of that words is…dary when it came to drinking. He looks up at Sizemore, "Hey ya, I believe this is a grain alcohol." He looks over at Eddie, "Then again, you miight already know the alcohol content."

"Aaaaaaaaaaand one more for Crunch." Eddie says with subtle enthusiasm to the man tending behind the bar. She hardly waited for Harrison's answer before ordering up the drinks. He must be keeping a tab, as she doesn't offer any direct payment. Clinking all the glasses together and holding them by sheer virtue of will, she heads back over to the table. "Drink up boys. This one's on me, and you better take them fast before it becomes literal." No wet t-shirt contests for Mooner. "The alcohol content is: hot and DAYUM."

Sizemore takes up the glass brought over by Eddie and raises it appreciatively. "So say we all," he says before knocking the stuff back, followed by a wheezing cough. "Frakkity-frak-frak… musta added battery acid for a bit of oomph." He blinks back a bit of eye-watering. "So how's everybody?"

"Ain't no labels," Isaiah murmurs after another encounter with the glass that leaves it mostly empty. He eyes it for a moment, then tosses back the last few drops before he grabs the next glass from Mooner. "Thank you kindly. I'll try not to puke on you later." He offers a wry grin before he glances at Crunch. "Good."

Leda for his part continues to keep watch on the pilots as he is waiting for drunken antics to ensue, the pilot might not be drinking but he knows the patterns and the only joy he gets from being sober when booze is moving around him is watching drunk people and laughing at the things that they do. Then again, he gets to be the designated sober officer on deck which means he is going to watch people drink and possibly stop them if they move out of drunk and stupid entertaining into drunk, stupid, and aggressive. "So say we all." He says lifting his glass of water.

"So say we all." Eddie repeats, possibly just out of habit. She's not going to knock back that whole damn thing, no way, but she does take a healthy gulp. "Trick to not getting a hangover is to never stop drinking." She tells Harrison with a wry grin, "Later, huh?" Is added with a little snerk of laughter before she's looking over at Sizemore. "Living."

Sizemore grins to Eddie and nods. "Beats the alternative." He works on unbuttoning his uniform jacket in some effort to get comfortable. "Went to a bar like this on Canceron before I signed up. This… is actually a step up."

"I can't make any promises for the present," Harrison replies as he eyes his glass, then shrugs and tries to choke it all down. He gets about halfway before the fire makes him stop, and another coughing fit racks him. "There was this bar on Picon, not far from Fleet Headquarters, that I used to drink at when I was home. Pink Cat? Black Cat? Something like that. Topless bartenders — it was pretty classy." Well, not really. But it was a bar, right? "But hey, we're lucky to have a bar at all. I guess that makes this the finest damn bar in the universe. TO HARRY LEMON!" He raises his glass in toast.

Castor looks over at Eddie, "I can say this much the hangover that follows is a pain in the ass." He speaks from experience, "Worst two days of my life." He says as he has been sober now for a long, long, while. He looks over at Sizemore as he says, "And yeah, for a dive, this place is alright. Glad to see it got put together." He looks over at Harrison when he stops and coughs and a smirk comes to his face, "Drink it like an officer man, you can't roll with the big dogs if you pee like a puppy."

Eddie hoists her glass up in the air, "To Harry Lemon!" She repeats with gusto, and not to be shown up, she's slurp…slurp…sluuuurping the last of her drink to the point where her eyes are watering and they're scrunched into tiny slits of pain as the burn travels down her gullet and sets her stomach on fire. She's sputtering by the time she comes up for air, clunking down her glass on the table and doubling over with a painful sounding half laugh/half cry. "Gods DAMN."

Sizemore raises his hooch, "Harry godsdamned Lemon. Long may he inebriate." And the rest of his glass is shot down his throat, with a noticeable wince following. "Frak. Smooth shit, that."

Harrison eyes Leda blearily over his glass. "Says the man drinking -water-. You want room to talk, you step up to the still with the rest of the men." He pauses, then slugs Eddie in the shoulder in a playful sort of way. "Present company and all that. This here, Leda… this is the real deal. We're gonna have to shave Eddie's chest after this — that's how real it is." He grins, then tosses back the remainder of his glass even as his liver screams for him to stop and his esophagus and stomach start forming a picket line.

The older pilot looks utterly amused at Harrison and he says, "Harrison, I won't retract my statement but Mooner here can verify that back in the day I would have drunk all of you under the table." He then adds, "And Eddie's chest isn't in need of shaving…but…if you wanted to come up with wacky hijinx I think you are at the right table, between you and Mooner here there is no end to the insanity that you both could come up with." The last part was appreciative and as he watches the pilots gathered he walks to the bar and he pays for another round of drinks which he brings to the pilots, he may not be drinking but he is all about enabling his friends, "There, another round, fair enough?"

Eddie rocks with the playful punch, somewhere in the midsts of wiping moisture away from her eyes with a grind of her fingertips. "Hey now. No shaving my chest. I don't want you knicking anything important." She straightens up, leans slightly, then straightens up again. Who knows how much she had to drink before anyone else made it over here. "Set it up." She says to the next round. "But first I have to find a pisser on this godsdamned boat, before there's a breach in the damn."

Sizemore cocks a thumb over his shoulder. "Thought I saw the words 'potty room' knife-scratched into an access hatch further down the corridor," he says in response to Eddie before taking up his second glass. "Good thing I'm not flyin' back…" And half of it and about 2% of Crunch's braincells go byebye.

"Potty room?" Harrison asks with a hint of amusement in his voice as he accepts his next round. "Hot damn, we are flying the friendly skies aboard the good ship Sapta Rishis." He lifts his round in salute, but to what is anyone's guess. All he says is, "Don't fall in, Mooner. We don't want to lose you," before he starts gunning it down. Still, straight turpentine into the guts isn't anything pleasant, and he only just barely gets the glass empty before releasing a war whoop. "Frak… that'll cure what ails you, yes sir." Never mind the tears.

Castor looks over at Eddie first and then at Sizemore and when talk of proper potty placement comes up the pilot smirks and then when Harrison speaks he says, "Damn well better cure all that ails you since it is pretty much kills all that is in you." He says with a huge smile on his face.

Eddie tugs her shirt up on her shoulder, and starts weaving towards the exit. "I hope you have a SCUBA team on standby." She says back over her shoulder, flashing the boys a rare full smile.

Sizemore grins and snickers, watching Eddie exit. "Tell ya one thing, guys, Mooner's a fun one to be around." He sloshes the rest of the transparent death-juice in his glass. "Gods, I needed this."

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd as Eddie disappears Leda turns to Harrison, "Okay, seriously, are you trying to get into her pants or what?" Leda was asking Eddie about this earlier but now he wants the story from the otherside. "Seriously, this prank war of yours looks like flirtting pilot style." He looks over at Sizemore, "Mooner is one of the good ones, yeah." He turns his attention to Harrison as he waits for an answer, the Shepherd is in full effect here.

"I shortsheeted her bed before I left the ship," Harrison murmurs as he pushes his cup away. Three is definitely his limit. "I have no idea how she's gonna get into her bunk and get covered up in the state she's in, but I wish I was there to record it." He pauses, turning his attention back to Leda with an upticked right brow. "No. She started it, I intend to finish it. Somebody's gotta pay for the pucker in the Mock II simulator seat after she scared the shit out of me."

Sizemore blinks. "Pucker? Simulator? Okay, there's a story I haven't heard… someone mind catching me up?" He glances between the two of them, hoping for a recap.

Castor looks over at Harrison, "Short sheeting?" He frowns, "She is going to whip your ass all over the place…" a beat, "When she sobers up." He then looks over at Sizemore, "I've got a theory that Mooner and Exile are in this prank war because they are secretly sweet on each other. So far, neither of them has denied it….or confirmed it." He takes another sip of his water as he looks over at Sizemore, "Any thoughts on this issue?"

"I was in the sims, and she jumped on my canopy like I'd just hit a corpse out there. I nearly crapped my pants right there." Harrison's eyes narrow slightly as he listens to Leda's theory. "Anyway, I stole her skivvies and hung them in the hangar bay, she stole my pants, then cut out the ass end of another pair that she happened to have, and now I've short sheeted her bed." He shrugs before he covers a burp with his right fist. "Hell, it keeps things lively around here, Leda. That's reason enough to prank her like crazy."

Sizemore snickers and shakes his head. "I just got the biggest damn wake-up call the other night about how romance-illiterate I am, so I am so not the right guy to ask. But, I have to admit, Exile, it does ring up a bit like a courtship."

Leda tips his water to Sizemore, "Thank you." He turns and he looks over at Exile, "See, I told you so, now the question is we see the smoke….is there fire?" He asks as he blinks and looks over at Sizemore, "Wait, were you hit on last night? Was some lady throwing herself at you and you didn't see it?" He raises an eyebrow…as the Fleet turns indeed.

"Not that I've seen," Exile replies calmly as he peers into his glass. Shouldn't there be more booze down there? Sigh. "She'll be cursing my name as soon as she tries to get into bed, anyway."

Sizemore shakes his head to Castor. "I frakkin' wish. No… actually, I think you were there… when I was trying to cheer up Booster? Smalls got all up my face the whole time. Then Booster tells me Smalls is carrying a torch for her." He shakes his head. "Frak me for caring about a friend, not to mention my wingman since I transferred to Hestia…"

Leda blinks for a moment and he looks over at Sizemore, "That…yeah…." He looks over at Sizemore and he offers, "Iggy confuses me on all levels I get the feeling she wants to kill me and yet at the same time she wants to keep me around." He shrugs as he looks over at Exile, "So this is the way it goes down….we just watch you to until we find one of you in the others bunk?"

Harrison looks up from his glass, brows lifting. "I guess so," he offers quietly, although the mention of Iggy seems to have him distracted, at least for the moment. He's quiet, then he clears his throat. "Smalls has a hard on for Booster, and anyone who hasn't seen it before this is blind."

Sizemore sighs and nods. "Sign me up for a cane and dark shades then. But frak, he knows Iggy used to be my wing." He shakes his head and takes another drink before continuing. "Seriously, if he's that into her, he should make a damn move."

Castor looks over at Harrison for a moment and he looks a bit off, "Fine…you two play your games." He looks over at Sizemore, "Some guys are like that…they wait and live behind the scenes waiting for the woman they love to somehow notice they are there." He chuckles, "I haven't seen it work yet but I guess it has to work sometimes."

Harrison shrugs as he pushes to his feet, using the table for support for a moment. "Smalls is a good kid. I think he's just too shy to make a move — or too afraid that Booster will gut him like a fish if he tries." He shakes his head, then runs his arm across his eyes. "I think I'm going to call it a night, gents — Harry's finest has worked its magic."

Sizemore snickers and nods to Harrison. "You got a point on both counts, Exile. I think I'd better go find my ride back to Hestia, before I find Iggy in my bunk again. And get the evil eye from Smalls. Again." He knocks back the rest of his drink and carefully rises to his feet.

Leda looks at the pair, "Looks like I need to make sure you both get home safely." He says as he stands, water is left behind so that he can care for those who are still moving in a drunken state, "Gentlemen, just keep yourselves squared away."

Harrison just shakes his head as he ambles toward the exit, doing his level best not to get up close and personal with anyone on the way out. "Can you honestly say you'd *mind* finding Iggy in your bunk?" he asks with a grin. "If she weren't going to kill you, that is."

Sizemore nods to Castor and then again to Harrison. "I can think of a fair number of worse fates, Exile. By the way, thanks for the lift, Tinman." His speech is only a little bit slurred.

"Save the thoughts of women for when you are sober." Leda continues to move through the doors with the two pilots, "Come on, I need to get you home." He looks over at Sizemore, "Anytime, Crunch, anytime."

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