PHD 269: Last Call
Last Call
Summary: Air Wing work breaks up and heads to Harry Lemon's. Eddie should've been more careful with the nerd ratio.
Date: PHD269
Related Logs: Reference to Wingmen and Aberrations.

Hestia - Hangar Bay

Roubani is sitting up inside one of the Raptors, safe from roving deck crew and superior officers with agendas. Recently off CAP, he still has his Gunslingers flightsuit on, unzipped to the waist with the arms in a pool on the floor where he sits, flipping through a binder of data.

It wasn't a CAP day for Thorn, but he's spent his shift on the hangar deck nonetheless. Ever since the Great Overhaul Incident, the ex-Kharon ECO's been spending a lot of time here; if anything, it's made him even more territorial than before. As he passes his Raptor, something makes him pause in mid-stride; the ship is occupied. Frowning slightly, he steps onto the wing and ducks his head inside. "Poet," he says in surprise. "You lost?" There's a small smirk at that.

"The noise gives me headaches." Roubani scratches his eyebrow with his ring finger, sucking in slow breath in through his nose as he sits up and then lets his back slouch against the wall. "I hope you don't charge for the space. HQ's been a tad delinquent with my pay."

Komnenos gives an amused snort. "Well. It's not like I need th' cubits, so I think I'll let it pass this time." He steps the rest of the way into the Raptor, looking curiously at Roubani's binder. "What's all this, then?"

"The old startup sequence," Roubani says, tapping a finger on the page. "Seventeen amps, start to finish. The last time we worked on it, right before all the mess started. The last few notes." He leans over, reading off. "From P. demitros: dynamically allocate energy production in accordance to which systems are powered on. May cause power spikes. Could use direct manual control - interface for reactor controls manipulated by hand." He turns a page. "From V. Gresham: Ghost signals." His finger trails further down the page. "From disembodied voice on deck: Stop effing smoking in the birds."

Eddie arrives from the Central Stairwell.
Eddie has arrived.

"Seventeen. Hnh," Thorn grunts. "I'd still prefer sixteen." He squints slightly over Roubani's shoulder. "I liked Demitros' suggestion, but I haven't had time t' give it much thought." There's a frown. "Ghost signals?" Thorn shrugs. "An' it's my frakkin' bird… no frakkin' knuckle dragger is going t' tell me what t' do in it."

"I have no idea what Gresham was talking about," Roubani winces as he notices the lack of notes. "It was approximately forever o' clock in the morning by that point. I'll have to ask him. But." He tilts his head, scratching his forehead. "Demitros' might work. I have no idea how to test that on a Raptor; that's all yours, my friend." He and Komnenos are up in Komnenos' Raptor, away from the deck racket. Roubani's sitting on the floor poring over a binder, while Komnenos stands looking down at the work.

Eddie packs in from the interior of the ship, spilling out with a few other folks. The group seems to be heading to the shuttle transfer, as is Eddie bringing up the rear of the pack. She has a duffle slung over one shoulder and a spiral notepad tucked under her arm.

Thorn nods. "Shouldn't be too hard t' come up with a manual control for th' power distribution system," he opines. "I'll see what I can come up with." Movement in his peripheral vision pulls his attention away, as he turns to regard the trail of crewmen - and women - headed towards the shuttle transfer. "Mooner," he calls out to the young woman in greeting, offering a jaunty two-fingered salute.

"That would be lovely, Thorn, thank you. If that works, we can try both things out on the live test. See what stresses the system the least." Roubani runs his fingers through the hair he forgot to cut last night in the chaos, looking up as Komnenos saluts someone. He lifts a hand to wave to Eddie.

Eddie catches the greeting, then looks to the shuttle area and back to Komnenos. Mooner adjusts the weight of the strap on her shoulder, and changes her trajectory closer to the raptor. "Thorn. Poet. How's it going, boys?" She asks, offering a bit of a smile up towards the pair in the bird.

"Same as always, just about," Thorn replies with a thin smile. "Working, staying alive and — somehow — sane." He nods to the bag on her shoulder. "Where y' headed?"

"Fine, fine." Roubani echoes Thorn on that part. "Putting some work time in." Even off-duty. Who stops working around here? He notices her pack when Thorn points it out, lifting his chin towards it. "Back to Sapta Rishis?"

"My pride requires a bandaid, and by that I mean a good stiff drink. I was headed over to Harry's, yeah. You boys should come when you're done with…whatever it is you're doing." Eddie's standing a few paces away from the Raptor that Komnenos and Roubani are currently occupying, her head tilted back slightly to hold conversation with them. She has a small duffle slung over one shoulder and a notebook tucked underneath her arm.

Thorn chuckles softly at Eddie's remark. "I know the feeling." He folds his arms over his chest, leaning against the Raptor's door frame to talk to Eddie. "Might just take you up on that one, Mooner."

Samantha steps into the area, finally having gotten the flight clearance she's been itching for since she took that bullet. But the sims last night were the last things needed to get her back on that line of duty. Now, while she's not on CAP for hours, she's missed and neglected her bird. It's time to do some check overs and reaquainting. She steps onto the deck, in her off duty sweats, clipboard beneath her arm… the little trio catches her eye, a faint smile coming a moment later as she heads in their direction. If any bother to look, she still is wearing that irregularly shape ring on her left hand, the hand that grips the clipboard against her chest. "Poet. Mooner… Yesterday was frakking fantastic again, by the way. "…And then she looks over to the man, hesitating. "Thorn." She states in simple greeting.

"Is there anything there besides alcohol?" Roubani asks, hopefully. The tee-totaler (or close to it, anyway). "Well. I mean, I suppose I could bring something extra." Hmm. He scratches his nose, attention flickering over at the sound of another voice. "Oh, hello Passi. You look well."

"Good. You should. I'll keep a crate warm for ya." Eddie tells Kom with a little nod of her head. To Roubani, "Leda was drinking water in there the other night, so I'm sure they accommodate straight lacers. Nothing in there is quality though, just a warning." As Samantha comes up, she turns slightly to include the woman in conversation and invitation. "I'm heading over to Harry's. Boys might join when they close up shop. You're welcome to come too, so I can buy you that drink for whooping my ass."

Komnenos gives Roubani a look. "An' what would be th' point of that, exactly? You don't go t' a bar t' have frakkin' milk and cookies, y' know." He stiffens slightly as another voice calls out his name; Thorn turns his head to regard Samantha, jaw clenched. He regards her for a long moment, saying nothing at first. Finally, though, he settles on a sharp, staccato "Case."

Samantha smiles over to Mooner, a hint surprised at the invite, but not complaining. She nods smoothly, "I…I think I might do that. Just want to look over the baby…" She nods in the direction of her viper…"for a little bit. Other people have been touching her and it makes me nervous." Sam's only half teasing about that. The seat never felt right after someone else's buttocks was in it. She gives Poet a brief smile, "..thanks… feelin' myself again too. Just ready to fly." And then back to Thorn. It always comes back to Thorn…she's not even certain what to say there, but some of the smile falls from her eyes. She looks worried… sorry… and nervous, all at once.

"I would if they had good cookies," Roubani informs Thorn, matter-of-factly. Damn right. It's unlikely that he doesn't sense the tension between Samantha and Komnenos, but there's not a word of comment about it. He just nods to Samantha. "Good to hear. And you haven't lost your touch. Last night proved that." He gets up onto his knees, looking up at Eddie. "I might come over, certainly. Kisseus had wanted to see the place anyway, so I'll leave him a note for when he's off work."

Well, the tension in the air isn't hard to miss, but Mooner certainly didn't expect it. Not between Sam and Kom. "Whoa, hey. Whatever is going on between you two, can it or duke it out before you come over on the shuttle. I'm not going to have a perfectly good buzz ruined by a lovers quarrel." Eddie turns away from the group, already having cut into her drinking time. "See you over there, Nadiv."

Thorn turns his glare on Eddie for a moment, but says nothing to the younger woman. It doesn't take long for his eyes to shift back to Samantha, though. There's another long silence, but then his mouth opens to speak. "Well? You just going t' stand there, or do y' have something t' say?" The man's harsh Aerelon accent thickens as he speaks; a mix of pain and anger is evident in his voice.

Samantha tenses a bit more, her bird forgotten as she just gets -that look- from Anton. It's not a comfortable one… She looks back to Roubani for a moment…"Say hey to Kissy if you both end up going… hopefully we'll be along." And then to Eddie…"Aye, aye, ma'am… no quarrels. Wish me luck." She smirks almost wirily, and then finally her eyes find the angry Aerelon again. She stares straight into his eyes… "PHD 300."

"Right." Roubani gets up, heading away from the storm area with a nice dignified stride. He hops down out of the Raptor next to Eddie. "Let me just have a shower and leave that note and I will meet you over there, hm?"

Eddie holds her hands up, fingers splayed and palms towards Kom in silent capitulation. Her eyes are wide with that, 'hey man, your fight's not with me' look. Before she peels off for her previous destination. "Bring some chalk." She tells Roubani before she splits off to catch her ride.

Well, Thorn's never been great at choosing his battles, but he is at least smart enough to know when he's chosen the wrong one. Most of the time, anyway. Eddie gets a small, almost imperceptible nod before he again turns his attention to the woman of the hour. Thorn blinks as she addresses him directly, at first not comprehending the significance of what she'd said. But then, comprehension dawns in his eyes. "You're sure," he asks, his angular features softening ever so slightly.

Samantha flickers a single look towards the other two, but right now she's about as bare and raw as she gets, even if no one else might get the meaning to anything she's said other than it just being another day. But, soon enough, her green eyes are back with Thorn. She almost hesitates, but then she nods slowly…"…Sure. Don't ask me why. It's a pretty round number and sounds nice." She admits with a faintly wiry smile.

Flash Forward - Sapta Rishis

When she was fresh off the shuttle, she ducked into a bathroom to change. Now she's in Harry's in her comfortable civvie clothes, having picked a larger table this time to accommodate the people she invited. Whether they show or not, well that's a different matter all together. Ashtray - Check. Liquor - Check. Mooner is green for inebriation with the go ahead from her liver. Commencing in three…two…one…

Roubani got his shower, left Kissy his note. His smoking's been down to nearly nothing lately, but he brought a pack along. How can one not, really? In his offduties, hands in pockets, he stops at the door to take an orienting glance around before heading to the table Eddie's staked out.

Eddie gives a little chin up nod to Roubani as he enters the room. Each other are easy to find, as the traffic in the place hasn't picked up enough to have a lot of regulars yet. Hey, maybe Eddie's on the fast track to that. "Okay, rule of thumb. Just because it looks like water, doesn't mean it /is/ water." She tells Nadiv as he comes over to the table, as she's drinking grain alcohol from an enamelware cup.

"However, if it smells like paint thinner…" Roubani's voice is amusedly wry as he settles into his seat. "…well, who's kidding. It will be drunk anyway." He digs his fingers into the soft pack, pulling out a cigarette and reaching across the table, wiggling his fingers. "Lighter?"

Eddie runs a finger beneath the collar of her white dress shirt until it hooks on the chains she has there. They both come out in a snag, the lighter necklace and the dogtags, and she looks down awkwardly trying to separate them until she can pull off the one with the zippo and pass it across to Roubani. "How was the shower? Flour free, I hope?"

"Eventually." Roubani flicks the thing to life and then crosses his legs, pushing the lighter back with his fingertips. "I'm surprised they came up with something as innocuous as flour. But that all said and done." He takes a drag off the cigarette, exhaling through his nose. "Feeling alright today?"

Eddie hooks her finger back in the chain and drags it back towards her. She toys with it a moment, when he asks his question, as if she's still trying to figure out the answer to that herself. "Yeah. I'm fine." She opts for finally, leaning back to go through the same process of lighting her own cigarette. "Just all part of the dog and pony show, right?"

"What dog and pony show is that?" Roubani asks. He tips the arm with its elbow on the table, knocking the back of the cigarette with his thumb until ash drifts into the ashtray.

Eddie gives a little shrug. "Life." She answers flatly, shifting her cigarette to her other hand so she can take a swig of her liquor. "As long as I keep being the same old Mooner everyone expects me to be, all will be swell. Somedays, you just put on a face and play your role like a good little girl."

Kisseus shows up some while after the others, having taken some time to find the missive and get his hindquarters to the right place— he's never been over to this vessel before. And for the occasion he's borrowed a civvie shirt off of someone— nothing fancy, just a t-shirt of such a color grey that when seen from behind it might be an ordinary off-duty tee, but in front, rather than the usual reminder that this Raptorbunny belongs to the N A V Y, there's some manner of cartoon mouse with big shoes and a big smile waving cheerily from the center of the chest. The shirt's a little on the small side, and someone with an eye for tailoring might easily come to the conclusion that the shirt was stitched to better fit a woman's body than a man's, but he seems comfortable in it as he wanders in. He's not even quite sure he's arrived where he's supposed to be until he spots the other two and his features light up with a smile, and he lifts a hand in unconscious imitation of the mouse on the shirt before he adjusts course and heads over. "Dudes! What's up?" he greets the pair of them.

"Mmm. That is life." Roubani gives her a tiny little smile. "But no matter the expectation, it is still our decision to live it like we choose to." His eyes lift and head tilts at the familiar greeting of one Kisseus Matto. He's about to say hello, but cans it for an obvious study of the shirt instead, "Well, you look pretty."

Maybe Matto and Eddie should switch, as she's wearing a man's white dress shirt and Matto is wearing a snug woman's tee. Cute. His arrival knocks some of the rust off her smile, but she didn't come here to pout about her own lot in life. "Aren't you just like sunshine on a stick." She motions with her cigarette to one of the empty chairs, but it's not like he needed an invitation to claim one.

Matto slides into a chair next to Nadiv and then slides a little further, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting up straight again, "I try my best," he tells him, a jocular note underlying the words that edges on the flirtatious. Elbows find the table and his back its usual sort of slouch and he looks to Moonshine with a crooked grin, then back to Nadiv, "So, what's the occasion?" he wonders. "Or are we all just feeling pleased enough to be alive that we want to make sure we don't wake up tomorrow feeling quite so well pleased with the fact?"

"I was brutally knocked out and dragged by the hair," Roubani announces, quirking a finger Eddie's way. "Awoke duct taped and naked inside a Raptor trunk, spirited away only to the sound of maniacal cackling." He pauses and clears his throat, adding mildly, "She cleaned me up well, but don't be fooled."

Samantha arrives from the Docking Hub.
Samantha has arrived.

Eddie has claimed a larger table, and now she occupies it with Matto and Roubani who are sitting side by side. Mooner leans back, touching the filter to her lips again as she takes a deep drag, exhaling in a smoke billowing chuckle. "Funny, that's how most of my dates start out." She shrugs to the question though, answering. "Just came for a drink. No occasion other then torturing my liver."

Matto slides one of his fists under his jawline, eyebeams drifting lazily between Nadiv and Moonshine in turn as they speak. "Heh!" he utters in reply to Moonshine's punchline— at least, he hopes she's joking. Pretty sure that Nadiv is, at least, he smiles warmly at him, "Well, it was nice to find an invitation out when I got home," he remarks, "Even if I missed the nekkid Raptor bondage. A drink would be nice. Or… well," he turns to eye the contraption warily, "I guess I shouldn't judge before tasting it."

"I'm not complaining." Roubani smiles at Eddie, resting his elbow on the back of the chair. "You two can drink the concoctions first. They smell dangerous. Even moreso than Thorn's feet before his showers."

Samantha steps into the room, better late than never, but sadly alone. Seems her boy had CAP and she still had a few hours free. Either way, Sam's just in her comfortable sweats, already fingering a pack of cigarettes in her hand as she makes her way through the room, looking around appreciatively as she goes.

Eddie hitches her head at the bar, as there are no waitresses. Maybe there will be someday, but right now you fetch your own booze. "You fly, I'll buy." She tells Matto. She's still nursing her first glass, "It's not so bad, if you don't mind the rust flavor."

Matto was looking so comfy, too. But he drags his elbows from the table and grins brightly for Moonshine before heaving himself up out of his chair again… for moonshine. "Thanks, Eddie," he tells her, using her name, for once. "You can have some of mine if it ends up being potable, N. I don't know about finishing a glass of it, myself," he admits. "We'll see how it goes," he adds, shuffling off toward the bar, spotting Sam as he goes, "Hey, Beece," he calls to her.

Roubani makes a slight face at the mention of the taste of the drinks. He moves his leg so Matto can get past, working on the cigarette while the Raptor driver's off in the alcoholic wilds. "I'm such awful bar company," he tells Eddie, with self-deprecative humor in his voice. "Shall we still do lunch, perhaps tomorrow?"

Samantha gives a casual little salute towards Matto as he calls her odd nickname he's chosen. "Kissy bear." She blows him a kiss in the air and then closer approaches the table. "Anyone complain if I sit?" She asks politely first. Maybe she's almost learning manners. As long as there are no complaints, she turns the chair and settles into straddling it casually. "And you're welcome to get me somethin' too, Kissy. I mean… I won't complain." Since he's going to the bar anyway.

Someone opens the hatch, a woman with a smudged face and a bright smile. She looks around and spots Eddie, giving a sharp whistle to garner Mooner's attention. Eddie looks up, rolls her eyes, and pushes back from the table. "Sorry blokes. Friend of mine. Let me go see what she wants." She knocks back her remaining liquor, then calls over to the tender. "His first one is on me, and one for Blondie too." Meaning Samantha. "Hey Sam. Lunch yeah. Tomorrow is fine. I scribbled some notes down somewhere." She tells Roubani. "Be right back. Don't have too much fun without me."

Samantha gives Eddie a quick wave as the woman moves to head out

Eddie heads through the exit labeled <O> Out.
Eddie has left.

Matto tips his head as if having been physically stricken by the blown kiss, grinning at Sam the meanwhile and then drawing two glasses of the stuff from the tap, cautiously, and carrying them back, "Alright, here we go," he remarks to himself as he sets the glasses out on the table, toward the middle, then settles down again. "I won't raise any holler," he tells Beece as he settles in and draws one of the cups closer to him, leaning down to sniff at the liquid therein, then turn his head aside, jaw gaping as his eyes scrunch up into a face, tears welling at their corners.

Roubani waves to the departing Eddie and then grimaces, watching Matto sniff at his drink. "Shall I get the fire extinguisher?" He pulls a second cigarette from his pack and rolls it towards Samantha, in lieu of invitation. "Everything…ah…work out?" He asks the female Lieutenant, vaguely.

Samantha settles into her straddled seat, looking up as Matto returns with the glasses. She pulls one towards her and lofts a brow, bringing it just a bti closer as she sniffs also… only coughing the tiniest of bits. But gods, it makes her cough! "…Frak.." She breathes out softly. "Is this stuff engine cleaner?" She then, despite the distaste, plugs her nose and slams back the shot of it. Now her eyes are watering…"Fraaaak…" She hisses out at the burn, trying to blink past it. Sinuses are clear now! Finally, to Roubani, she wiggles her left hand. Ring still in place. "…Wedding's set for day 300.."

Matto tries waiting for his nosehairs to uncurl… eyes fluttering open wet and wavery as he blinks into the light, half-surprised the stuff hasn't burned through his sinuses and scorched his retinas. "Maybe so… I dunno how safe it is to have lit cigarettes in here," he points out, and almost seriously, too. "Day 300, eh? Into the gates of fire, yah?" he teases Beece a little bit, then finally takes a tiny sip of the stuff from the edge of the cup, setting it down again and swallowing what little of it makes it to the back of his throat before coughing. "Ghah."

Roubani raises both brows at the news, looking pleased indeed. "So it's set! Oh, well that's marvelous. Are you going to have someone make a dress? Who's going to officiate? Details, woman."

Details??…-Details-?! Roubani is suddenly getting the very same deer in headlights look that Thorn got when he first asked about a date. The look that says Sam Passi was NEVER supposed to get married in her life and she has no frakking clue how to do this. She flickers a gaze to Kisseus, almost begging him for assistance, or at least another drink…"Uh… " She really doesn't have a single answer for any of those things. "…Maybe I'll wear a towel?…and… maybe… Well… this ain't anything about the gods… do we need an officiant…or whatever? Can't we just sign a piece of paper?"

"You're going to get married in the shower?" Kissy wonders at the towel comment. "You -could- do a naked wedding, y'know. I've seen some of those," he recollects. "But most of them pretty spiritual. I think the command types can say the magic words and all that, if you didn't want a priest to do it. But they might appreciate it if you wore clothes. Just you and him and I think a witness or two will do it," he adds. He's still working on that first drink of his, taking another sip, the level of the liquid decreasing millimeter by millimeter.

"Sign a paper? Oh." Boo. Roubani exhales a drift of smoke away from the two of them and waves a hand. "Well, whatever makes you happy. And keeps you /fully clothed/…" A Look at Matto there. "…until the honeymoon. Still, it would be too bad if there weren't even a little ceremony. Gifts and all, that's half the fun."

The blonde pilot across the table from them is still looking rather skittish. Sam's not exactly the big puffy dress and bridezilla type at all. "… AH… I guess. We ain't really…discussed it. I'm not good at planning these things. And yeah, yeah…fine…I'll wear clothes. I guess I got that polkadot dress I could wear…" the one she's worn every single formal dance they've had since the colonies ended. But it is a cute dress. "Though…I'll say married in the shower is starting to sound more and more amusing. Everyone can come in their swimwear."

"If you're going to go with swimwear, why not the pool?" Kisseus suggests. "Water and fun, something a little different, with approximately one hundred percent fewer people wandering through to take a dump," he notes with a grin, taking another tiny sip and then offering the cup toward Nadiv to see if he wants to try it.

Roubani eyes the cup suspiciously, as though he suspected that all Matto's suggestions were borne from the liquid within. "A pool wedding. That's…different." He smirks. "I /still/ vote for out on the hull, and I shall never change that."

Samantha laughs a bit, daring to take another sip from her own cup. Maybe that will make all of this less nerve wracking. "Pool could be…Fun. I'll bring it up. Maybe -he'll- want to plan the thing…dunno if he and the gods get along any more than I do… and who knows to officiate. Could Spider? Guess were both the closest to him, really… unless one'a your two wants to open your big mouths?" She inquires, giving them each a pointed, curious look.

Matto drinks again, himself, more boldly, now, as the first five or so sips have lulled his mouth into a numb burn. "Man, if I can get one of the ecumenical staff to ordain me, I'd totally swing that," he laughs a little. "You'd probably have better luck with that, N," he notes, though, lifting the glass as though in toast to the Poet. Oh, yeah. That stuff's mad mashing the 'relax' button on the Kissybear.

"I think they /don't/ want an ordained person, Kisseus. That's the point," Roubani says, with a slight half-smile. "I…really don't know if Marek technically has 'the power', legally." Fingerquotes there. "If that concept even exists anymore, gods only know. I have heard of JAG officiating, or the ship's CO."

"…Hell, Nadiv…if it was you… I think I could handle someone ordained. I think I'd want them there… If it was you." Sam actually means that, her voice a bit softer than before, drink forgotten as she looks up to her friend and comrade across the table. "…and I'm sure Kissy can hold a book or something… or maybe be the ring boy and flower girl all in one. We can get him to toss toilet paper shards to a kazoo choir." Yes. This is the dignified wedding Nadiv is semi being hinted at to officiate!

"Whatever you need, dude," Kissy tells Beece, toasting her, next, and taking a drink before settling the cup down for the time being. "I think she's made her choice, N," he remarks aside to the Poet, "There isn't anything for it, now. Just don't go taking any oaths to Artemis or whatnot," he begs that much indulgence for his soon-to-be-priestly boyfriend.

Roubani clears his throat softly. "No, I…I'm sorry, Passi, I can't do that. Ordainment is sacred." There are plenty of things a Sagittarian will joke about, but most won't cross the line into religion. He's in that 'most', even as he sounds apologetic. "But maybe you might ask Ensign Fulk. 'Fiver', the chaplain. He was a pilot, you know. He's an excellent man, I'm certain he could do something comfortably secular for you. I'd go with you to talk to him if you wanted."

Samantha frowns, that 'well, damn' look on her face. Harder than she thought it'd be. "… Frak…I dunno. Don't know the man for my life. I'll talk to Thorn. We'll figure somethin' out. We got a month, after all… All the time in the worlds." She admits, knocking back the last harsh gulp of whatever is left in her mug. At least her throat is almost numb from it now that it doesn't hurt quite so much. "…Thanks for the offer of help though. Both of ya. I might come begging later."

"It's not that bad, once you get used to the stuff," Kissy finally gives his judgement on the beverage, leveling a stare at the stuff from where he slouches down comfortably in the chair he's claimed and stretches out his arm to land his hand on Nadiv's leg, giving it a squeeze. "Yah, plenty of time. Oh, hey, uh, Demitros could do it, right?" he realizes. "Another guy you could ask, I dunno how close you guys are, but he's a pretty great guy. Oh, N, speaking of, when's that whole shindig going down?" he wonders after the other wedding N's got a hand in planning.

"Well, it would introduce you to someone new, right?" Roubani smiles encouragingly at Samantha. "He's very friendly, I promise. You would like him." He looks back at Matto, distracted ether by his nickname or the hand on his leg. "Whole shinwho? What what?"

Samantha seems oblivious, for the moment, to hand-thigh knoodling under the table. Probably a good thing for all of them. Sam tries to wave down someone to help them, she certainly not feeling up to standing up to get more booze, and yet part of her definitely -wants- more booze. "Knight? Maybe…I do know him a bit more. Maybe I'll ask… and yeah… someone else gettin' married? Everyone's shakin' up these days. Wonder when we'll see the babies start."

"The Chief, dude, the… Doc…" Kissy re-iterates, "The whole… wedding thing… with the brothers and the sisters and the several days of rites?" he wonders more specifically at Nadiv, hand, for the time being, content to rest where it is, draped there lazily. A hiccup reminds him lift the cup and take another short drink. "Babies," he giggles. "Oh, can you imagine? I mean, probably a poor plan right now, and all, but… I mean, can you imagine?" He sounds almost enthralled by the notion of wee ones toddling about. "But no. Frak, kids… you can't raise kids in a place like this. Kids need to know there's more to life than guns and death and toasters."

"Oh, I don't know," Roubani scratches a hand through his hair as he answers Kissy. "I haven't seen Locke in weeks. I assume she'll be in touch if they go through with it." As to the talk of babies, he just scratches the end of his nose with his pinky. "I would not exactly recommend children here either. Aside from being a terrible place to raise them, it's extremely dangerous."

Kai arrives from the Docking Hub.
Kai has arrived.

Samantha nods in affirmation, "I agree…and us front line fighters got all the protection we need anyway…" Right? Dear Gods, say she's right. She can't give up frakking! "But… the back line fighters… you can't tell people to stop. And it feels like there's a weddin' every week these days. Ah well… we'll see. Life goes on, no matter what… and that's what we're fightin' for, right?" Sam seems to give an encouraging, if slightly drunken smile at that thought… "Still gonna ask Spider about the ceremony, though..don't want a stranger up there, since Thorn's insistin' on havin' the damn thing…I want it to mean somethin'."

"What d'y' mean 'if?'" Kissy wonders, slumping just a little further to rest the mug on his tummy as he lounges there, "I mean, trouble in paradise, or what?" he asks. "Right," he adds, to Sam, as though he were well aware, though he really has no idea on the state of the contraceptive supply, himself. "So you two -are- being careful and all. That's good. No accidents, yo," he prescribes, drinking again, slowly, letting the engine grease have a good long while to seep into his system and leave him lax and slurry. "Where'd you keep a kid aboard, anyhow? And what'd you dress 'em in? There aren't any kids clothes' around, y'know? Can't have a ship fulla kidduns runnin' around all bare-assed. I mean. You could. But it might not be seemly."

In a wing chock full of drinkers, someone's gotta be the designated driver. Marek, through whatever cosmic bad luck or unpaid debt, is tonight's. Having finished up some paperwork back on Hestia, he's donned his flight gear and rolled out his raptor driving skills. Which is to say, hangovers aren't the only thing that'll be nauseating his passengers on the way back. He thunks into the makeshift bar in his flight suit, pauses a moment to appreciate the spraypainted-on sign on the door, then continues the rest of the way inside.

"Well, I don't know," Roubani answers Matto, a shrug in his expression. "I just haven't heard." And he's not the sort to go prying, so that's that. Move over, Kai - between these two boozing it up, he's the stone sober one in the trio even with ample opportunity not to be, simply working on a cigarette. "There does seem to be a wedding every week lately. Willem and Persy are still in the pipe as well, as I recall. Ad I was sure there was another…I can't remember, but I'm certain there is one. At least yours has got a date, unlike some of these slackers." He takes a drag off the cigarette, exhaling through his nose and raising a brow slightly at Matto, shrugging. Kids, not his strong suit. Even in discussion.

"Hey. That's all on Thorn…I was content to slack with the rest of them and get married in some ephemeral tide of a future… He's the one who has to get all huffy when I said I wasn't certain about a date." Sam's smile softens, just a bit, "But…I do love the man. If makin' it final will make him happy… well.. stupid things we do for love, you know?" She adds, flickering a quiet, curious, unspoken look between both Matto and Roubani with a weight behind it that says she's implyign something she's finally learned never to ask. She hasn't quite noticed Kai yet, tipsy and caught up with her fellow pilots.

"Legsy. Birdbrain," Kisseus thinks of another couple waiting on queue for the chapel and hiccups up their names in an intoxicated staccato, though he's probably pretty sure he didn't say Birdbrain out loud. Another drink fails to bring another set of names to the forefront of his mind. He's getting a little on the drunk side for hidden eyebeam signals. "Is Kitty really still seeing what's-his-name? You know, I had the weirdest thought about Kitty in the shower before it was floured out of me th'other night. You know? I thought, you know what's weird? How she showed up on this ship where her brother just happened to be. Do you think that's weird?"

Kai hasn't exactly drawn attention to himself, up until now. After spotting the familiar trio at the 'bar', he threads between a few makeshift tables amounting to storage crates and empty tylium barrels, and bellies up next to Matto. He's already pulling down the zipper on his flight suit, and hunting for a cigarette. "Classy place," is remarked, low-voiced, to none of them in particular. The smoke's slid between his lips, and he pats down for a lighter. Frak.

Roubani snaps his fingers at the mention of Legacy and Sparro. /Duh/. "Yes, that's right." He might have caught the look from Sam. He might not. Hard to tell. "Yes, yes, Thorn happy. Gods bless you, Samantha Passi, for a happy Thorn is a boon to this entire bloody ship." He glances at Matto, raising an eyebrow. "And I have said what I think of that. Three pairs now, of siblings? And all male-female. No two brothers, no two sisters. Speaking of the odds going through the roof." He looks up as someone pulls out the chair Eddie had vacated. "Well, we're all such classy people, sir." Dry. As. Desert. A slight smirk, and he flicks his lighter across towards Kai with his fingertips.

Of course, timing is what it is… and Sam needs to hit back for the ship, a shower, an hour nap and then hopefully sober enough for CAP. Probably good she didn't drink more. Sam stands, frowning at the brother-sister thing…"…it is a bit…weird. Maybe the gods are… watching out for us?" That's about the only other explanation, and she sure as hell doesn't seem to believe it. Shaking off a bit of a shiver, she sighs, "I need to head back for CAP… ya'll don't drink too much. Here, sir…have my seat. Good to see ya.." And with that, she salutes the table and heads off..

"I think it's… -weird," Kissy sticks to his word of the evening, brow clouding up as the liquor draws him into a sullen and pensive place. "Dude," he lifts his mug to the Marek, then drinks, finishing about half of what was left in there, "Speaking of blissfulness and wedded stuff, how's wifey?" he wonders, cheer not quite touching his voice even if there's a warm, drunken amiability still lurking there, just… darker than his normal mode of speech. His hand's still draped casually over Nadiv's leg, where it looks like it might take up residence unless Nadiv decides to move it.

Having walked in mid-conversation, Kai probably doesn't know what's being discussed, much less having an opinion to offer. He flickers a small smile for the loan of the zippo, lights his cigarette in two tries, and tosses it back across the table. It skitters to a halt almost precisely in front of Roubani. "Night, Passi," he murmurs to the departing Lieutenant, and appears to have absolutely no qualms about taking the offered seat. It's slid into gracelessly, and accompanied by a weary-sounding exhale. Wifey? "She's good." If the faded patchwork of bruising along his jaw and marks on his throat, barely visible beneath his unzipped flight suit are any indication, Marek has a strange idea of 'good'. That, or he's been getting creative with the PT. "How about you two?" The casual affection seems not to bother him in the slightest.

Roubani's leg is mostly hidden by the table, which is probably the reason he's letting that hand stay there. Public affection's so not his style. "Oh, fine. Eddie was actually the one that started this mess, and then she cruelly left us all to our own devices. She owed Passi a drink from last night for shooting her down." He glances at Matto, lips twitching a little at the word 'wifey'.

"Oh, is that why we're drinking?" Kissy wonders. "Cheers, B—where'd she get to, now?" Kissy wonders, having been lost in a maze of sullen contemplation while she tagged out for the Marek. "Well, cheers, anyhow," he drinks, not quite bringing himself to finish up the liquor, grimacing down into the cup and then offering the rest of it over toward N. "You wanna dry it?" Presumably he meant 'try' it… or else that's a Leontinian turn of phrase for finishing a drink by way of 'drying' the cup.

Mention of last night has Marek looking very briefly chagrined, an expression which he conceals for the most part in a drag of his cigarette. "Sorry I couldn't make it," he murmurs to Nadiv, turning his head slightly to exhale away from Matto. "How'd it go, aside from Morales pulling out the fancy moves on Case?" Kisseus gets a brief glance, but he doesn't comment on the drunkenness. Seems he trusts the younger man to police his own alcohol intake and patrol schedule.

"It was rousing," Roubani says to Kai, sounding pleased with the outcome. "I've got the visuals screen saved, if you want to see it sometime. There was a shocking upset in overtime." His voice plays with the drama of that statement, eyes widening and hand splaying out to wiggle his fingers. "Eddie and Willem were thinking on running something themselves soonish." He looks back at Matto and smiles a little, again eye the drink with mock-suspicion. "Oh, absolutely not. One of us has to stay non-combustible tonight. Tell me, is it more like windex or paint thinner?"

Kisseus has fairly consistantly demonstrated three consecutive stages of drunkenness— the giggles, first, then an onset of a gloomy pensiveness, after the dispersal of which he tends to go about kissing boys. He seems firmly entrenched in stage two, for the moment, and he regards the drink for a long — too long, really — and thoughtful moment, before, "Paint thinner," he announces, as though he were pronouncing time of death, "Definitely." But, that said, he heaves a great sigh and downs the last of it, setting down the mug. "Aaaand I'm done." See? Boy can set a limit. "Sounds nice," he adds. "Are you going to invite the bunnies next time?" he wonders. "Or are… Moonshine?" Grammar. who need grammar?

Kai chuckles softly at the windex comment but otherwise listens, and smokes, quietly while Roubani speaks. "Started a trend," he remarks with faint amusement that isn't evident in his staid features. A column of ash is tapped off his cigarette, and into a tin cup partly filled with water and littered with cigarette butts like belly-up fish. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind seeing it some time."

"You know me, sir. The forefront of fashion," Roubani replies, deadpan. "How was your day, then?" He then glances at Matto's drink at the confirmation of its taste, grimacing slightly. "Done? Are you sure? I believe I see some asbestos floating around the bottom there, sure you don't want to get that?"

Matto grunts a little bit, screwing up his face with a scrunching of eyelids and lips as he tips to the side and buries his face into Nadiv's shoulder. "No more," he murmurs muffledly into the shoulder, sounding rather as if he's yielding under torture.

It isn't common for the CAG to crack an actual grin, but Roubani's dry-witted remark prompts exactly that. And a dimple, to boot, as his teeth are flashed and a laugh barely smothered in time. Hard to say what he finds so funny, though the asbestos hunting's a contender. "Good," he answers finally, typically vague. Then a little more elaboration, "Had a dinner date with some airframe maintenance checks. I even picked up the frakking tab." Gentleman that he is. "Am I going to have to carry you onto that bird, Kisseus?" is followed up, blandly.

Roubani has a Mattoface in his shoulder and a laughing CAG. Either - or both - of which could be the source of the little grin that lights his face. Like a supernova, it's quick to brighten and then promptly begins to fade away. He shifts in his chair just enough to make the shoulder a more comfy place to sprawl on, his arm landing conveniently on the back of Kissy's chair. "Airframe maintenance, stellar. No wonder you fled." He turns his head, craning his neck back to see the top of Matto's curls in his face. "Oh, don't worry about this one, he'll be fine. If I have to tie enough balloons to him to float him back, I will."

Before Kissy can gather enough words in a coherent row to make some protest against being carried away, Nadiv's standing up for him— not to mention giving him a nicely angled shoulder-pillow to snuggle against as he lets loose some string of sleepy and contented-sounding syllables. The hand that had been lurking on Nadiv's thigh gets slung across his waist, now, like a seatbelt, as Kissy makes himself comfortable. He'd be to bed soon, anyhow, were he back on Hestia, and the liquor and the warm body next to him are just about doing the trick.

Roubani's statement is, of course, nullified by the fact that Kissy just practically fell asleep on his shoulder. Oh Lords.

Maybe it's the thought of a bevy of balloons tied to the Madman that finally does it, but Marek makes a hoarse little sound in his throat that sounds dangerously like a laugh. And he hasn't even been drinking. "Much as I'd like to see that, I have a feeling he'd blow his landing." Get it? "Get it? Blow his.. frak. Never mind." And with a grunt, Spider's finishing off his cigarette, dropping it into the tin of those that've gone before, and hauling himself back to his feet. "I'll grab the boy, you grab the door." Yes, he's serious about carrying him out. And really, as the bulkier pilot, he's the natural choice.

Matto was indeed well on his way to drooling. At the ruckus of motion and departure from Nadiv's other side he voices a few more little noises and snakes his other arm in between the chair back and the Poet, completing a circuit of arms. This one is his, and he looks fairly close to becoming intertwined with the other.

Roubani gives Kai a horrified look. Not at the carrying offer - at the pun. Which morphs after a second to appreciation. "Well done, Karim." He chuckles under his breath and moves his hands under Matto's arms, holding him up for sacrifice to be carried by the stronger of the sober two. "And, ah…thanks." Still smiling a bit, he weasels out from under so he can indeed get that door. Poor Kissy. Not every day the boss carries your drunk ass home.

The Captain's had a kid. He's probably accustomed to carrying dead weight that doesn't care if it slobbers on him. Once Roubani's disentangled himself from the boy, said boy is grasped around the waist and hauled up out of his chair. "Shit," Marek proclaims, somewhat muffled by Matto's shoulder, "he's heavier than he looks." And then, it's raptor ho! Poor Kissy? Poor everyone, after the ride home they're about to endure. All he does is flash Roubani a wink on his way by, expecting him to get the hatch, as was arranged.

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