PHD 250: Playing Pool
Playing Pool
Summary: A bunch of pilots and a TAC officer find the Hestia's pool. Joy to the world.
Date: PHD 250
Related Logs: None

Say what you will about the Hestia — call it savior or interloper or easier to get lost in than Bang-Bang's collection of pilfered underthings — it has a mother-frakkin' pool, ya'll. This, to Lt. JG Persephone Tanner, would have been a squee-worthy discovery… only in her current condition, the dazzling aqua, chlorinated waters represent all work and no play for the little blonde Libran. Physical therapy is grueling… and at the moment she's taking a breakin in the shallow end, head tucked down, eyes shut and breathing deep… working through the pain.

Surely this pool's seen its fair share of pilots. Probably in various states of non-regulation undress, you know how pilots are. There's always the killjoy though, and that's (as often is) in the form of Roubani, who's fully dressed as he wanders into the pool area. Holding a locker key, he jostles it in hand and thins his lips, looking up then looong row of walking space before he can even get to the lockers in question. Sniff. Chlorine.

The echo of even the most delicate footsteps is vast in this space; the sniff ricochets off the walls and ceiling and floor. Persy looks up, bubbling a tiny laugh at the acoustics. "Hey…" she says, softly. It echoes.

Roubani has started up the side of the pool, paying next to no mind to those getting their swim on. Until one talks. He almost keeps walking, but then pauses and half-turns back when he realises the voice is familiar. "Tanner?" Hands slid into his pockets, he steps up closer to the pool edge. "Pardon me, I didn't recognise you without your coffee mug on."

Persy laughs again, spirits lifting above the fatigue that's visible in the tightness and shadows around her eyes. "Rou-Rou," she greets. No simple last names from this one. At least, so far, he's escaped names likes Kissymuffin. Rosebud… Pookie. "Yeah. I feel kind of out my element. I used to surf a little with my brothers, back home, but it's been lifetimes since…" Well, yeah. "How're you, sweetie?"

"Surf. On boards, in the ocean?" Roubani looks family amused by the mental image. Closing his hand around the locker key, he crouches down at the pool's edge, resting his arms atop his knees. "I'm fine. It was nice to see you at chapel. I would have told you then, but the occasion wasn't really permissible."

Persy laughs. "Of course! You've never seen surfing? It's awesome. Even though I was pretty craptastic at it…" She nods solemnly, her smile dwindling. "Yeah," she agrees. "It was good to be seen — but I completely understood. Understand." She looks down at her hands, resting them on the suface of the water like skimming insects. "The doc didn't want to clear me to attend, y'know? But I missed the last memorial. It was really important to me to make this one."

"I have never seen an ocean," Roubani says, lips twitching faintly. "Doctors are always so very overcautious. I can't imagine it would be so bad for you, not if you can be in a pool by yourself." His eyes flicker down, looking at her hands disturbing the top of the water, then back at her face. "Shall we see if you're still in good mental shape, after such a long convalescence?" He asks, with a hint of challenge in his voice. "What is the connection between surface tension and the equation on my arm?" Euler's Identity, tattooed on the left.

Persy blinks, apparently startled at the thought of never having seen an ocean. "I practically lived on the beach. We had a summer home on Caprica…" She smirks. "I was really kind of spoiled." She smiles warmly at Nadiv. "You'd love the ocean. Someday we'll find one — I mean, it might be… pink or viscous or something. But. You know. Big." A slight frown. "Which I guess isn't at all the same." Dimples delve deep and one eyebrow arches as Persy levels an Is That SO? look to the pilot-cum-engineer-cum-science geek's challenge. "Liquid has to minimize its boundary molecules and surface area to minimize its energy state in surface tension. The proof that smooth shapes minimize surface area relies on the Euler-Lagrange equation."

Roubani lightly snaps his fingers, letting his head dip forward with a defeated puff of air. "Bah. That was far too easy, wasn't it. Next time." He wags his index finger at her. "And I am not sure what to say about pink viscous oceans, other than that I am glad Case isn't here or she would find some way to make that sound rather dirty."

Persy snorts mirthfully. "I'm sure she would." Which reminds her, "Rosebud looks good — she still treating him well?"

"I suppose so," Roubani says, scratching fingertips through the front of his hair. "They've announced that they're engaged, so one can assume things are rolling along."

Persy laughs. "Shit. You start a trend, and soon everybody's doing it…" she looks down at her ring, smiling. "That's good. I'm really glad for them." She peeks up, eyebrows lifting. "And how about you? How's your heart?"

Roubani smiles a little. It's faint, but there's no mistaking a fondness in it. "My heart is very well, thank you." He drapes his arms back on his bent knees. "And you have no idea. I can count…two marriages and at least three officially pending ones, not including yours."

Willem arrives from the Gym - Deck 8.
Willem has arrived.

Bright laughter bounces around the dim poolscape. "I'm so glad, Roubear," Persy sighs happily. "Foremost and especially for you." She clasps her hands together. "I can't wait until there are babies!" Whoa.

"It's very Vicsekian, isn't it?" Roubani muses, tapping his fingers on his knee. They stop midair as she comes out with that last, and he blinks. "Babies?" He's fully dressed, crouched at the edge of the pool next to where Persy is floating and doing her PT.
Willem has partially disconnected.

The guy's got timing, he does. Slipping through the front doors, an alert and lost-looking Wil makes his way inside the pool and locker room area with his personal-issue duffel bag slung upon his arm. He strolls languidly as he tilts his head about. Doubtless he's been here before, but the novelty of a POOL in SPACE still hasn't worn off. He just stops and stares a moment, mouth opening slightly as his gaze works over towards the pool. "Huh."

Ah, that echoic monosyllable. Persy would certainly recognize it anywhere. She turns in a little warble of water-motion, beaming Wil-ward. "Hi, baby!" she chirps, and the delighted greeting bounces all around. "Don't worry. I have designs on your loins, of course, but not the breeding kind. I mean, not right away, anyways. You're safe. I'd buy you dinner first, obviously."

Roubani looks up, though he doesn't stand. Too comfortable. Well, that's certainly the right person to be walking in just now. "Hello. We were not actually discussing your loins; she just spontaneously brought that up just now."

There's a pause, a locking of the jaw, an attempt to say something and then a slow, almost-smile. "Oh, I get it. Er. Sorry. That all probably came out wrong. Let's try this again. Hello, Persephone." He displays a slight flash of teeth as he settles against the wall to unlace his boots and places them securely by the head. "Hello, Nadiv."

Lacing her fingers together and playing with her ring a bit, Persy hunches her shoulders up cutely. "Aaaaaaack-tually, we were talking about all the people who are getting engaged and married. I wanted to make sure Sammipants was treating Rosebud good, still. And. You know. Since people are hitching up, babies are gonna happen eventually." She beams. "Which will be SO amazing."

"Let us pray there is a safe place to be raising them before they come along," Roubani says, not quite as beamy about the prospect as Persy is. "Adult deaths in combat are one thing already. The deaths of children would be another."

Wil's look is that of a man torn. Maybe torn between the perspectives of both. After setting his bag down, still in his fatigues, he pads carefully poolside and it's clear that he's absorbing -some- of Persy's general goodwill in regards to the situation. It's clearly infectious. Infectious enough, anyway to briefly concede to flashing a full-on, goofy sort of grin even if it doesn't linger for proverbial days. "I think what's happening is only natural. Good to set trends, though." He pauses a few beats and then nods, the grin turning smug before it fades completely. "That's something we've, well, -really- got to worry about. Warships weren't exactly made for this sort of thing. We'll have to adjust. My money's on just finding a planet and stopping for a while if we can find a way to hide." He sounds like this is actually feasible, though.

Persy nods. "I don't disagree, Rou," she tells Nadiv, softly. "But there are no glad deaths. There's no easy mourning. All tragedy is… tragic. But life… it goes on. It has to. We have to live, despite what they're trying to do to us… or we're already dead." She nods again to Wil. "It'll be an adjustment. But… we'll adjust. We have before. That's what separates us from machines, isn't it? We adapt, and we survive."

"I know all the ongoing platitudes about life and survival, Persephone," Roubani says, gently. "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit more practical than that." He shrugs one shoulder. "What happens will happen, yes, but it does not mean we shouldn't be concerned about it. A planet would be a good idea, if there was one that could be easily defended. Children need stability. Not just safety, but a home."

"Find a planet. Dig in. Find a way to hide on it. In that order. I wonder about the impossibility of it all." Wil states, shrugging a little lopsided. "Yeah. A home. I wonder what it would be like, growing up in this? We're a bunch of refugees. Will children start claiming to be Caprican? Libran? I wonder if that'd start getting absurd. Claiming a distinctive home that one hasn't even ever seen."

Willem simply falls silent after this, offering something of a halfhearted, reassuring smile. Somewhat reassuring. One can tell he puts a lot of time and effort into mulling these things over, that's for damn sure.

"Sorry," Persy shakes her head, sighing and looking abashed. "I didn't mean to… sound glib and pat about it all. I understand the challenges. The risks. The practical considerations — I do. It's just…" Another sigh, quietly unhappy. "We all need homes and stability. In a perfect world, we'd have them… but…" She listens to Wil's musing, nodding distantly. "I can't even imagine."

"I expect they would claim what their influences show them to be true," Roubani says to Willem. He rolls his knees forward over his feet, settling back on his heels instead of crouching. "We are such a small population that we will inevitably rely heavily on each other for survival. Most of our traditions are already disintegrating, aren't they."

Well, wasn't -this- a cheery thought? Wil's gaze drops several inches towards the cold floor, away from the pool a moment, away from people, to be frank. "No. I mean, it's good to think about this. All of this. We can still take stock of what our diaspora can save."

Persy hugs her elbows, as though the water's getting colder. "We'll make new traditions. Keep some of the old. Let the new evolve naturally. I mean, I want to teach my children to dance for Dionysus…" she grins faintly. "The wine really isn't important, they can have that when they're older — it's the spirit of the thing. It's a tradition I can preserve."

New traditions. Roubani looks away from Persy and towards the water, scratching his eyebrow with his ring finger. When people say 'progressive', 'Sagittarian' usually isn't anywhere in the rest of the sentence. "On a happier note, the Hestia likely has more in the way of dyes for a dress for you, Persephone. I can't be your mole anymore, but the offer to help construct it still stands."

"Heh. Naturally. I think they all evolve naturally. That's the beauty of it. Sometimes the terror too, depending." Willem states, nonplussed and settling down at the water's edge. "How are you holding up?" He looks from Roubani to Persy, lingering on the blonde woman afterwards. "I mean. Post-injury and all. Are you getting that 'recovery euphoria' post-hospitalization? Or did it it only happen to me?" He cranes his head back between the two. Nadiv got bang up pretty bad, after all.
Willem has partially disconnected.

Persy blinks, as though it never occurred to her that she should feel euphoria. "Relieved, maybe?" she ventures — though it's plain she's just searching for something agreeable. "I don't know." Her smile returns in a brilliant flash — too quick. Too brilliant. She bounces a little in the water. "It's nice to experience a state in which I can move without limping. Though… it hurts pretty bad after a few laps. So there's a lot of resting between sets."

Roubani seems to assume the question was meant for Persy, as there's no answer from him. "How long must you stay in your therapy?" He asks Persy, brows drawing a little bit.

A little smile returns to Wil's face. It's impossible to entirely remove, as he remains hovered over the edge of the pool, cupping one of his large hands to his chin and nodding his head slowly. He comments further, "Once you've been beat up by something like that, and survive it it gives you a ton of perspective." He further explains. Of course, the 'you' is him. Some kind of relay of personal experience here. "You're looking better, at least. I'm not a doctor, though." He shrugs, nonplussed.

Persy shrugs, too. "I don't know," she says to Roubani. "Until it all works like it used to, I guess." Her smile dwindles. She seems to wilt a bit. "Doc told me not to push it… it's not like I really need to be anywhere close to fully recovered, physically, to do my job. But… I can't dance like this."

"Do you play chess? One of the Raptor ECOs and I were thinking of getting a little league going," Roubani says, with a tic of a half-smile. "Just to give everyone another reason to beat us up on the playground." He glances at Willem as well, including the man in the nerdy offer. "But don't worry, Persephone. The gods didn't make the body resilient for nothing. Part of me thinks it was half just to teach us patience."

"Chess. There's something we can preserve." Wil clings to previous topics like a proverbial barnacle, going back and forth. "My mind is too utterly chaotic. If you want to watch Lieutenant Price make a fool of himself…" With his propensity for board games, he may actually not be -that- bad. He's certainly giving himself no credit, though. This elicits a snicker.

"Well, it's some other god wants to teach me patience. I KNOW it's not Dionysus," Persy grumbles, squirming impatiently. She lifts herself out of the water a bit and pecks Nadiv on the cheek. "And yes. My brother Evander — who you remind me of a lot, by the way — taught me. I'm very bad at it, but I enjoy it anyway. Kind of like surfing." See how that all came full circle? She looks pleased with how she did that. "Maybe if you have a cheerleader on the chess team there won't be so many wedgies." Looks like she's in!

"Moreso than I did at 'fight night'?" Roubani asks Willem, drily. "Impossible." He's still wearing the fading bruise on the jaw that Eddie gave him that night. He stares at Persy talking about cheerleaders. "Um. I'm sure Gresham would greatly appreciate that, at least."

Sizemore arrives from the Gym - Deck 8.
Sizemore has arrived.

"Was he the one laughing at me?" This question comes at the mention of Persy's presumably late brother. This is delivered gently, even cautiously.

Ah, fight night. "I stopped going to those things. Don't want to give the CMC the satisfaction of being 'good' at smearing me into so much paste." Willem says, with a wrinkle of his nose, nodding emphatically. "Not so interested in punching girls, either. But — " For some reason, the Libran pilot trails off and starts breaking into snorts of laughter when Gresham is mentioned.

Persy laughs, shaking her head. "No, I mean, I really WAS a cheerleader. Didn't I ever tell you that? I still have my uniform and everything. Why I had that packed? LONG story — had to do with a bet." She shakes her head at Wil, in turn, smiling warmly. "No, that was Xander. Evander never laughed at people. Well. Not that people would know it, anyhow. He was way too gentle spirited. XANDER, on the other hand, had no problem laughing. Or pointing. Or pointing and laughing." She looks brightly entertained and interested at the outburst of mirth over Gresham. "I missed something! Tell!"

Roubani is sitting at the end of the pool, though still fully dressed in off-duties and boots. Willem is nearby and Persy's in the pool herself. He gives Willem a twitched half-smile at the CMC thing, but stays quite silent when Persy asks about Gresham. Oh yeah, Wil gets to dig himself out on that one.

Sizemore strolls into the pool area in his sweats, hoping for a quick dip before sacking out for the night, but then notices (wow) people in the room. He tosses a wave to the trio, presuming anyone is looking his direction, then strips to his shorts in preparation for a jump in the pool.
Willem has reconnected.

Willem himself is also still in his fatigues, sans boots, lingering at the edge of the pool as he chatters along with his fellow pilot and CIC officer, smiling crookedly. "Virgil Gresham is — He's a civilian pilot we picked up. A Libran actually - he's from Smyrna." He names off the moderately-sized city to the south. Nice place. Really. "He's a bit - jumpy."

"I have ways of making you talk and plan on employing them all," Persy threatens Wil, since she's STILL not getting the story. "And I know who he is — he's JUST adorable. We've never met formally, but y'know. Poor guy. I didn't know he was a home-boy, though! How exciting!" She smiles brightly at Sizemore, waving a cheerfully hello.

Jumpy, hurr. Roubani scratches the tip of his nose with his pinky, clearing his throat to hide the faint smirk. He looks up, nodding to Sizemore. "Good evening, sir." Despite the sweats, he still seems to know how to address the man. "You are in Gold, no?"

Sizemore returns Persy's wave and then responds to Roubani. "Black, actually. Josh Sizemore, a.k.a. Crunch. Nice to meet you guys." ANd with minimal fanfare, he dives into the chlorinated cement pond.

"Price. Rebound." Willem echoes, in a slight afterthought as he waves a hand in a slight motion towards the diving Sizemore. He adds the unspoken, un-needed afterthought. "We're Kharon refugees." Back to Roubani. "Jumpy, he repeats." Back to Persy. "You might try levelling threats I'm frightened of. But he's - harmless. Amusing. Sort of latched on to me as a Nugget when Thorn was torturing him." There's a hint of an eye-roll there. Just a hint.

Persy puts a hand over her mouth and oopses, turning pink. "Oh, he's a sir?" she asks, rhetorically, then apologizes to the Lieutenant when he surfaces. "Sorry, sir. Lieutenant Junior Grade Tanner. Countermeasures. Nice to meet you!" She resumes her big, beaming smile now that the formalities are out of the way. Further elaboration from Wil makes her pfft and roll HER eyes considerably more. "How Rosebud can be so loveable and so MEAN I just don't get." Then again, it's just possible that Tanner finds porcupines cuddly.

"Price is the only one around who didn't frighten Gresham, apparently," Roubani informs Persy. His soft-spoken voice curls around the words with a hint of wry amusement. "I am not sure how I feel about what that implies as to the rest of us." A polite nod back to Sizemore. "Apologies, I haven't quite memorised the roster yet. Lieutenant Junior Grade Nadiv Roubani. 'Poet'."

Sizemore swims closer to the trio as the introductions have been made. "No worries, I don't sweat the formalities off the clock. Welcome aboard, by the way. You guys finding everything okay?"

"I don't frighten anyone." Willem says, wryly. "I kind of wonder how Thorn can, for that matter." He amends as an aside, waving a backwards hand again."It's been a ship. A big ship. I sort of welcome the change of pace, to be honest. Although — " Maybe a bit of superstition, here, "I wouldn't belittle the Kharon. No. Not at all."

Persy folds her arms as though chilly, smiling a bit sadly. "I never really stopped getting lost on Kharon, so now I'm REALLY lost. So… you know. Not finding everything, but what I've found however accidentally is super nice." She glances at Wil, nodding a little, then confides in general, "I already miss Kharon so much. Hestia's wonderful. But. I don't know. I guess when you get uprooted, you make some crazy attachments so you can feel you're 'home.'"

"I almost feel I should gather some coins for Kharon. If only for the inherent poetic irony." Roubani says, with some bittersweet fondness for the vessel in his voice. A slight nod at what Persy and Willem have said already, then his dark eyes go back to Sizemore. "Hestia's a lovely ship. Have you been on it a long time?"

Sizemore shakes his head as he treads water near them. "Less than a year and only a week and a half before the chrome-plated shit hit the fan. My first battlestar actually. I primarily did atmo patrol beforehand."

"Really?" Wil perks up at Sizemore's revelation. "Me too. Kharon was my first spaceborne assignment. 'Bout a year ago. I was on Tauron beforehand." He explains all this in a sort of distant manner, eager as he is to blurt it out. "I understand that. About home." He smiles tightly at Roubani and then Persy in turn, finally lingering on the latter a moment.

Matto arrives from the Gym - Deck 8.
Matto has arrived.

Persy, on the verge of getting melancholy, sniffles a bit and rubs at her eyes. "Chlorine," she states. "And I'm getting all pruny." With a nod, she hoists herself out of the water.

Roubani is parked at the edge of the pool, still dressed and in boots. He shifts a bit to get out of the way as Persy starts up, propping feet under him and holding out a hand if she wants the help up.

Sizemore hefts himself out of the pool at that moment and walks over to where his towel and sweats rest. "Sorry if I sparked a trend of bum-out there. Totally not my intention."

"I think that's -my- job." Willem notes in a slightly dry tone. He takes a step aside as well. He's still in his fatigues at the edge of the pool. "The bum-out, as it were. Don't have a second thought." He too makes room for Persy.

"Perz!" Kisseus calls out from the general direction of the dreaded gymnasium. Sweats, tanks, boots— he doesn't seem particularly geared up for a swim, but he's beaming brightly to see the Persy one up and about again. "Hey, N. Darling," he adds, for Willem, and a brief grin in Sizemore's direction, so's not to leave anyone out.

"Thanks, Roubear," Persy smiles at Roubani, accepting his assistance out of the pool. She flicks some water playfully off her arms at Wil. "This is also your job," she points at Roubani's gallantry. "Focus, man." Her smile for Wil, however (gooey and stupid-in-love) makes the rebuke utterly without teeth. "KISSYMUFFIN!" The little blonde squees, hopping on her good leg and waving wildly. "Come hug me!"

Roubani gives Sizemore a small but amiable smile. "Please don't worry, sir. It takes more than that to be the death of the party." Right then Persy starts hopping and waving, and he lets go of her hand, ticking a finger at her. "Observe." He looks over at Matto and waves a bit.

Sizemore grins at Persy's display as he towels off. "So I see. Awright, my bunk's calling me." He puts his sweats back on in preparation for the stroll back to the pilot's berthings.

"Yessum," Kissy replies with a bright grin, practically running to the edge of the pool and grabbing her up, less than gingerly, but endeavoring not to grapple anywhere too achey-looking even as he lifts her up in his arms and spins her. Spun! And hugged! to boot. He looks up into her eyes, "Great to see you out of bed, Perzilicious. How're you feeling? Are you back to work?"
Willem has reconnected.

To this, Willem extends his arm mutely, without a second thought. He lingers there a bit. His smile is a slow half-smile, but it's clearly -there-. Clearly blooming. "I double as furniture. And a motion aid." Matto's arrival earns another smirk, tossed in the Raptor pilot's direction. Sizemore's departure earns a jut of his chin in a pronounced nod as well.
Willem has partially disconnected.

Roubani politely moves back, with the same grace a father would when handing off the bride after giving her away. He scratches a hand through his hair, fingers damp from touching Persy's arm. "Goodnight, Lieutenant," he bids Sizemore.

Spun and hugged! Yay! Persy is clearly a happy camper. "Zohmaigodselebenty, best hugs ever!" she giggles, hugging Kissy back tight. "Recovering wounded need Kissyhug therapy. Frak this swimming stuff." She nodnodnods. "I'm okay! Light duty, but what about sitting on your butt in CIC isn't light, right? And I'm gimping around with a cane, so it'll be a while before I'm back to cheering at Pyramid games, but." She nods. "Can't complain. How are YOU youlookfabulousandgorgeous?"

Poor Wil, left hanging, alas. Persy's magpie attention has gone to Kissyville. Bbiab!

Sizemore finishes dressing and waves to those in the room. "Have a good night, guys," he says, just before taking his leave.

Sizemore heads through the exit labeled <O> Gym.
Sizemore has left.

Matto unarcs his back to settle Perz back down onto her good foot with tender care, "I'm good, I'm—— wet," he realizes slowly. Yup. Wet all up and down the front. It just brings a laugh from him, though. "Heh, I'll have to ask Lyss about doing rounds in the s'bay," he tells her, "You'll rock that cane, I'm sure. And the s'bayers will have you running godsawful laps in no time flat," he assures her, lifting a hand to squeeze at her shoulder, glancing down to N and grinning for him.

This done, Willem's simply along for the ride as he edges away from the pool. What did he come down here for anyway? Truth be told, he appears as relaxed an — gods' truth — content as anyone has seen him in recent months.

Roubani smiles back at Matto, a little bit. Like Willem he's not getting in the way of a huggy reunion, but the look on his face, subdued as it is, is about as happy as he's been able to get these days. He glances down at the tiles and then over at Willem. "She really needs a new coffee mug, you know."

Persy kisses Kissy's cheek. "I'm just not a patient patient. One of the poor med techs told me they hadn't had such a pain in the ass in sickbay since Marty's sister." BIG eyes. "And I was only AWAKE in there for a few days — rest of the time I was OUT."

Roubani adds to Willem mildly, as he watches Persy, "But easy on the coffee."

Matto accepts the kiss with a smile, and returns it with one on Perz' forehead, "Well, I'm glad you're back IN," he inflects the preposition in a teasing emulation of hers. "I gotta run, but you and I need to get together. I think there are still plans that need to be made, yah?" he tells her with a sly smile that slips behind her to get sent to Willem, too. "I'll catch you later, N?" he then asks of the Poet.

"I'd imagine the similarities end just with -that-." Willem's wry murmur comes in response to Persy's comparison with the absent Lt. Black. He sounds like he's praying for that, actually. Bringing his hand up to cover his mouth, he muffles a cough. He catches Matto's smile and returns it, in muted form, before giving Roubani a sidelong glance. "Oh. Duly noted. Duly. Noted."

"Mmmmhmm," Roubani makes the sound at Matto. "I'll be about." He glances at his watch himself, noting the tickdown until CAP, then gives the back of Persy's head a quirked brow look as Matto talks of plans with her. Man, that can't be good.

"Aww. Hug and run and I hogged you! Sorry…" Persy doesn't look overwhelmingly remorseful, though, as she takes a little hop to lean on Wil. She twines her arms around her tall, ginger pilot and props her chin on his arm, gazing up at him. "Try to sneak me decaf and there'll be issues."

"Slick," Kissy grins at N, then waves a hand at Perz, waving off the transgression. "Whatever, dude," he tells her. "I'll see you all later," he adds, "Better go and change," he pulls out his sopping wet tanks from his chest with a wet sucking sound, and meanders off. Drip drip!

Now, it's Wil's turn to drip. He takes it in complete stride, though. Watching Matto depart, he cants his head downwards at Persy and a slight ridge appears in his nose. "I'm fairly certain I have more of a self-preservation instinct than -that-." Can't be good, indeed.

"Well." Roubani glances between the plotting Matto and Persy, giving her a twitched smile as she comes back over. "It's so nice to hear the pitter-patter of little foot. I'll let you two have some time, work does sneak up. Don't be a stranger, Persephone."

"The sound of one foot limping," Persy chuckles, blowing Nadiv a kiss. "See you soon, Roubear."

"Some sort of three-footed beast." Wil corrects as he extends his arm a little further for Persy to lean, taking the weight off of it even more. "In some cultures, the sound of a legendary, mythical beast." He too waves at Roubani as well, in turn. "Evening, Nadiv. Always a pleasure. Always."

"Goodnight, Willem. Take care of yourself." For such words that often sound trite, Roubani seems to mean it. He lifts a hand in farewell and heads out of the pool area.

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