The Rabbit Hole |
Summary: | Pilots and others get together to celebrate the life of Abraham Hale with a game of Pyramid. |
Date: | 284 PHD |
Related Logs: | Some |
Players: |
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There are still people filing in, the shuttles over to Kharon suddenly a little bit more crowded than usual— but a nice little crowd's gathered, already, and has staked out some area around the marked-out field to stand about in in lieu of bleachers. Some people lingering up on the stairs for a better view, a couple people with the mind to climb up to one of the catwalks, the hum of people getting themselves settled fills the bay. Kisseus has brought over the ball, since the rest of the court's already been kindly set up by the deceased and his wife, whom, at this point, he approaches, maybe a little bashfully— he never knew her well, after all, and, clearing his throat, he offers out the ball in deference to her presidence over the event. "If… you wanted to place the first set," he explains his offer. With his other hand he sneaks a slip of paper out of a fatigues pocket, "And these are the people who signed on." So she can call out the teams.
Sen's come, of course, how could she not? The men and women are here to honor her late husband in a form truly befitting Abraham. A sport he loved so much, the court was originally built for him. Now it has a new banner, declaring it the 'Rabbit Hole' on an old tarp that's been strung up over the court. She's dressed simply in her off duty clothes, a bandana the primary color of the Virgon Volunteers tied over her hair. A bittersweet smile is offered Matto as he approaches her. The ball is taken and tucked up underneath her arm to free her hands for the paper. "Thank you." She says quietly, then steps into the center of the court. "Thank you." She repeats again, louder, to get the attention of the gathered. "For all coming out tonight. This is.." Sen pauses to clear her throat. "..a good day." The paper crinkles as she looks down at the list. "Team one will be: Mooner, Booster, and Spider. Team two: Exie, Sketch, and Kharon Actual." She smiles, and puts the ball in the center of the court with her foot ontop of it, waiting for the teams to converge so they can begin.
Marek's never really been here or there about sports, though he's notably not been about when pickup games are afoot in the gym back on Hestia. In fact, he's possibly only here today out of loyalty to Hale, to whom the game's dedicated. He ambles on into the cargo bay in his fatigues and a non-regulation tshirt, hands wrapped and trousers half tucked into his combat boots. He's in the process of shoving his dogtags beneath the tee as he weaves between milling bystanders closer to the 'field'. Eddie and Iggy, eh? This ought to be interesting.
Booster's here wearing a simple tank top and a pair of sweatpants, hair tied back under a black bandana. Oh, yeah. She's going for little miss badass. Kind of. At the announcement of the teams, well, she looks just a little amused and dips her head to both Kai and Mooner. Is that a hint of disappointment? Nah, can't be.
Alyssa stands near the court, leaning against a crate, medbag on the floor by her feet. Her job is to take care of the people who get hurt, and given the crew, injury seems quite likely.
Eddie is fresh off a shuttle, barely having time to pull a Volunteers jersey over her head before her name is called. She's got her gym bag over her shoulder, and as she shoulders to the ring, she's pulling out padded head gear of all things. She palms the top then sets it on the crown of her head, smacking it down into place. Mooner's like the Special Ed kid who just got off the short transport bus, but safety first right? Apparently safety doesn't extend to her elbows or knees, for those go unpadded. "Let's bust some heads in Bunny's name." She gives a toothy smile to the others.
Kallisto's been milling around in the cargo bay of the tired-out carrier in her fleet-issue sweats, the most appropriate wear for the job she's currently in possession of. Though she admittedly didn't know this pilot very well, she was out there that night…and so the show of solidarity is something she wants to do. How she missed the signups is anyone's guess, but she caught wind of it just a little while ago, and got her butt over here. When the teams are called out, she spins around to look at Sen, her arms in the air, yanking and tugging her hair back into a high ponytail and securing it with a scavenged rubber band.
On the far side of the court, Isaiah Harrison is just finishing wrapping his hands on one of the benches. He's got a pristine white Picon Panthers jersey on, complete with snarling cat logo, his name on the back, and the number 21 underneath. Not that he played, really, but more like he's just one of those crazy fans who bought himself a personalized jersey so he could pretend he plays like the big boys. "We'll see who busts who up," he crows across the court as he looks for his partners in crime.
Have event, will film. Neha and her dv camera are here. The close-up on Sen zooms onto the teams, and then pans into a wide shot.
Matto lifts both hands and raises up a shout of acclaimation when Sen annoucnes the teams, getting something of a cheer going in the crowd while the teams find one another. He scrabbles halfway up a ladder and then hangs off one way like a monkey while grabbing a marker from a cargo pocket and taking up a post to keep score on a raised bit of whiteboard. "Pick your first leads for the set!" he calls to the teams, "And square off," he adds with a grin. As for the teams, he simply marks them after their highest-ranking officer. Marek on one side, Demitros on the other. Very militarily fair.
Demitros comes down into the cargo bay out of uniform, but strangely he still conducts himself as if he was. The commanding officer comes slowly down the incline of the stairs and gazes over the court, a single index fingers pushing his glasses further up his nose as he takes stock of all of the individuals present. Once he is actually at the edge of the actual court, he waits for the teams to be called out, a slight loft of his brow as this information is revealed. Hands are clasped behind his back, jades scanning over the opponents before he forms up with his teammates. "Okay, Arturis." Praxis mutters to Kallisto light-heartedly. "I expect that you will not excrement on the mattress. Err, produce a stool sample on the bunk. I mean.." You mean, 'shit the bed'? Eyes drift over to Exile. "I do not suppose that a particular strategy discussed out of earshot of the opposite team would be employed, hmm?" he inquires. Looking up to Matto while he makes the announcement, he raises a brow expectantly at his comrades.
Kai rolls his shoulders, wrists and neck out in turn as he approaches the court, a slight grimace crossing his features as he's picked for 'lead'. The hell does that mean? He takes a wild guess, muscles up to the plate to wait for the ranking Command officer, and flashes Praxis a quick wink without an accompanying smile. "Ready to mix it up, sir?" he calls over as he hunkers on down.
Sen keeps her foot on the ball while waiting for the two leads to square off in the center of the ring. "Gentleman. Ladies. Just remember it's not polite to tackle the…" Widow. "Honorary Officient. When I take my foot of the ball, you're lunging at it, not me." She reminds, just in case the pilots are blood thirsty.
Oh gods…the language. Sure, he's her brother and all, but sometimes, he's just a little too-higbrow for Kallisto's tastes. When Praxis asks his vocabularily-advanced strategy questions, and gives her ever-so-helpful advice, she cracks up a bit. "That is the plan…Sir," she adds, purposely putting the emphasis on it just like that to tease him a bit. "My strategy suggestion? Get the ball in the goal." Kallisto gives Prax a little wink, then pats his shoulder to usher him on into the middle of the court to get the show on the road.
Fortunately, the most bloodthirsty of the group isn't one of the leads, so Sen's ankles are safe from a lunging Booster. She stretches and gives Exile one of the most polite 'screw you' smiles on record.
Harrison looks between the siblings Demitrios, his expression falling somewhat. "What she said, sir," he offers in an encouraging tone. "Also? Don't let Spider get the ball before you do." Sketch pats, but Exile gives Praxis a hearty slap on the shoulder.
Eddie rolls her neck left and right, stretching it with a quiet popping sound. Her shoulders roll, and then she's hunkering down behind Marek in preparation for launching at Kallisto who she's apparently pinned with her gaze as her opposite. "This is going to get bloody." She comments offhandedly, her fingers touching the floor like a sprinter ready to take off out of the gate.
Alyssa laughs softly to herself as her eyes scan over the players and the trash talk. If they played the way they talked, she might want to go ahead and have folks bring a surgery table down…
Praxis moves onto the court and in position, shrugging helplessly at the strategies that are outlined. He solidifies in front of Captain Marek, Demitros' intense gaze leveling on the former Kharon and current Hestia CAG. "As ready as I will ever be, Captain. Prepare to be obliterated." Now that's some trash talk going on right there. Demitros takes up a stance, and as soon as the whistle goes he's sprinting the short distance to Kai in order to fight him for possession of the ball. The two forces, however weak the both of them are, collide and begin to muscle against each other. Praxis grunts, but is unable to get the upper hand at any time as the ball just sits there.
…and it's underwhelming.
Weak shmeak. Praxis may have height and youth on his side, but Marek's got body mass. Not.. that it helps him in the slightest. He drops forward simultaneously with the Colonel, scrambles for the ball, and gets a handful of his superior officer's shirt instead. After a bit more tussling, he shoves his weight into it in an attempt to throw his body atop the ball, but only succeeds in kicking it out from between them. It skitters off, headed for Kallisto.
As the ball rolls towards Kallisto, Eddie is off like a shot. She's a speedy little frakker, and actually gives Sketch something to wrestle with a moment. This isn't going to be an easy game, it's balls to the wall, and Eddie turns her shoulder in for an attempt to knock Kallisto out of the running for the ball so she can nab it for herself. Well. At least she slows Kallisto down for a minute, right?
As much fun as that whole trying to beat the hell out of each other thing in the middle looks, Harrison stays to the side by the goal, practically screaming that he's open.
Racing in at the ball that's skittered away from the CAG and the CO, Kallisto uses greater size and weight to her advantage in the collision with Mooner. They hit…shoulder to upper arm, but one goes sideways, and the other goes only slightly sideways. As she stumbles from the collision with Eddie, Kally manages, somehow, to nab the ball of the deck…finally. Unfortunately, she doesn't see Iggy gunning for her.
Oh, yeah. Kallisto uses her greater size and weight to her advantage. Of course, Iggy does the inverse and uses HER smaller height and weight to an advantage. Kallisto's a tree and Iggy's the beaver gnawing on the trunk. Booster slams into the larger woman and actually bounces off, grabbing the ball as she goes and spinning around. Two steps and it gets passed off with a mighty shove toward Mooner. Girl's got a lot of rage, it would seem. There's a bit of force behind the ball.
The problem with trying to bellyflop the ball, is that when you miss the ball, you end up bellyflopping the floor. Marek goes down with a thump as his bulk hits the cargo bay's deck, shoulder breaking most of his fall and keeping the wind from getting knocked out of him. He's a little slow in hauling back to his feet, not quite so athletic as some of the younger kids playing, but once he's up, he's backpedaling to get open.
At the grabbing of the ball, some of the audience cheers. Most of the rest boos.
Samantha is late, but better late than never. Desipte being on CAP so unable to play…she's come as soon as she took a quick shower and changed into her off duty clothes. She slips around the corner of the room, remaining off to the side, looking for where the small audience might be.
Alyssa looks around in a little bit of confusion. "Umm… do they always just chase the ball around like this? Isn't someone supposed to shoot it, at some point?"
With the ball lost for the moment in the crush of bodies, Harrison eyes the court for likely targets and settles on the rapidly becoming open Marek. He sprints away from the goal he's been camping near to try and insinuate himself between the nebulous zone that the ball is in and his boss.
Kai jukes left, jukes right, spots Harrison juxtaposing himself between his boss and the ball, and attempts to sprint past him from behind. If the man moves, well, a tackle'll work just as well.
Eddie oof. Eddie gets the ball right in the gut from Iggy. There's a grimace from Mooner, no doubt something to do with those stitches she had out not too long ago. She withers a glance to Iggy, but doesn't have time to really reflect on the subject, lest she get creamed for holding the ball too long. Seeing Kai trying to get open, she pivots and waits to let the ball loose, but there's still a flailing Kallisto to take into account.
Iggy's quick little snatch an grab combined with Eddie's collision sends Kallisto wobbling and stumbling a bit. Thankfull, she's able to recover her balance quick enough to get herself somewhat in front of Eddie. When Eddie lets fly, one of Kallisto's fingers manages to get just the teeniest, tiniest fingertip on it, deflecting it off the intended course to Kai.
Damnit! Iggy's short and that's Kharon Actual. Clearly peeved that she can't just crotch check Praxis, the short woman tries to dart around to the side in an attempt to open herself up for a possible pass. Her face has gone a little red, her eyes a bit more intent than before. Someone's a touch competitive. "C'mon Marek," she calls. "Haul your ass off the deck." Uhoh. The trash talk portion of the game has begun.
While Eddie's pass to Kai is straight and true, the tactician has forseen this play and is now taking advantage of it. As Booster's hand releases the ball and it sails through the air, Knight leaps into the air and intercepts the ball into his chest, catching it and subsequently land on his feet. "Exile!" he calls out, before winding back and attempting a pass to the man with the best shot.
The unwise thing is to get between a freight train and its goal, but that's what Harrison does. He pivots so that he can shift his weight onto his forward leg and drop his shoulder all at once. The result, really, is predetermined. Marek's moving faster, but Exile has both weight and size on the other man. As the impact starts, he uses the back leg to launch himself foward and literally bowls the smaller man over. With a roar of triumph, he starts toward the goal once more at a high rate of speed, only turning back when Praxis calls his name to prepare to catch the incoming missile.
Someone in the audience yells, "Spider's gettin' crushed like a spider!" The bad jokes have begun.
Unfortunately, Marek's gambit against his wingmate ends somewhat futiley. He goes for the grab by the scruff of the shirt and body into the deck, but Harrison's simply taller, heavier, and quite a bit younger. Dem old bones don't work like they used to. If they ever really were athletically inclined at all. The tables are turned, and the CAG himself is taken down with a solid WHUMP. His body rolls over swiftly before he has much chance to feel it, and he gains one foot and then the other, only breathing a little hard by the time he muscles in again for the intercept.
Well. No one said they were trained professionals. Hell, trained apes might be doing better then the airwing at Pyramid, but dammit, they're giving it their all. Or, well. Pretending to at least, for Hale's memory. Eddie's job, if she doesn't have the ball, is to make sure Kallisto isn't going to get it either. It's up to Iggy to cover Harrison. And so Eddie goes back to getting in Sketch's face close enough to smell what the other woman had for lunch. "Why don't you draw a /picture/ Sketch. It'll last longer." Tussle tussle rabble rabble, but Eddie still looks a little sore around the midsection.
The game behind Kallisto is forgotten for the moment, as Eddie gets all up in her face. "You got some moves Mooner, when you aren't living up to your namesake!" Kallisto jibes back, not exactly the most proficient trash-talker. Kallisto uses every inch and pound of her frame to her advantage, but she's nowhere near as young as Eddie, so…she moves a little slower, a little awkwardly. Been quite a while she's she been pressed to play organized sports like this. There's plenty of gaps in her defense, should someone choose to pass back to Eddie.
Ok, there's a lot going on. Iggy darts off to the side and eyes Harrison. It's a tactical move, but all of a sudden she takes off, plowing her way over toward the Viper driver.
After the Kharon Actual sends the ball off albeit on a wayward course, Praxis glances around at the battle situation. Yeah, it's a battle. A battle to get one frakking point. Oh great, now Iggy is making a run for Harrison, the man most likely to score; so Knight takes off on an intercept course for the Hestia pilot, an impending tackle from the Lieutenant Colonel. Look out, the brass is coming.
There's no time for the consideration of his personal safety as the rush begins. Harrison just turns toward the goal and tries to get a shot off before the train wreck occurs.
Iggy has the ball, Iggy's going for her wingman, and Praxis.. well, Praxis is about to become a headache for his teammate. Rather than pursuing the tackle on Harrison, Marek rounds on the Colonel instead, going for a slightly dirty elbow to the gut and bodycheck, if he manages to get sufficiently in the man's way.
Of course going toe to toe with Kallisto is rather like an odd dance of machismo, but Eddie keeps her occupied while the shot goes wild in the background Eddie hears it go off the backer board, and she pivots, suddenly going from defensive to offensive. And so she's off, to try and get the ball before the other team can and hopefully sling it into the goal for a point.
Kallisto's age shows a little as Eddie feints in one direction, then move in the other. The blonde is sold on the first fake move, and throws herself into it, wrongly, and Eddie's able to scoot past her quite easily on her own way to the ball. "Frak!" she calls out, when she realizes she's been duped…hard. After getting her balance back from being faked out so hard, Kallisto hustles after Eddie, for what it's worth at this point; she can only go three steps, afterall, then it's into a position to try and block should she go for a pass or shot.
Iggy knocks into Harrison like a little freight train and manages to regain her balance pretty quickly. Oh, man. Now Kallisto has it again. "Open," she calls to Mooner, should Mooner actually manage to recover said ball.
"Haha! Back to the drawing board for you, Sketch!" The bad jokes from crowd continue.
Praxis' beeling to Iggy is hindered by Kai…and in one of the most unpleasant ways possible. A sharp elbow lands in his gut, the forward momentum of the CO combined with the opposite vector of the elbow creating an 'oof' noise, eyes closing shut before the body check impacts into the Actual. The officer goes down like a sack of potatoes, but he rolls back up as if nothing had happened. Demitros shoots a menacing look at the CAG before Praxis engages him, if only to keep him from performing any action that aids his team.
Harrison pops back to his feet after being blindsided, shaking his head. "Damn. You hit hard for something so small," he calls out to Iggy, although he's clearly enjoying the moment anyway. After that, though, he moves to cover his CAPmate. "It ain't getting past me."
"Open!" barks the CAG, the instant Praxis hits the floor and he manages to pivot into the 'killslot'. Which, to a viper stick, means he's trying to jockey into a position to score. Or at least.. fumble the ball somehow accidentally on purpose into the goal.
Eddie runs into the ball like a freight train, fumbling it between her hands until she's got a good hold. It takes takes her a couple bats between her hands before she can slap her palms around it. She can only take three steps once she has the ball, but it only takes her two and a half before she can see the goal clearly. She pushes it from her chest, and the ball lips into the goal for the money shot.
The rest of the game is just as brutal, with the constant give and take of control over the ball. No goal is easily gotten, no point easily won. Either both teams are equally matched, or they equally suck, but the outcome is the same. The game finally ends up 2-2, with damn near everyone sweating from the exertion. There might even be a little blood from noses or mouth by the time everything is through, and then it ends with one more goal on behalf of Team Marek which finally seals the win on the Memorial game to the cheers and jeers of the crowd. It's over. They can all collapse.