AWD #452: Court Callsign
Court Callsign
Summary: Nuggets get their callsigns and Kelsey gets renamed in absentia.
Date: 16/09/2016
Related Logs: None
Alastair Bennett Buchanan Elena Jameson Kelton Niko Pearson Randy 
Checkpoint Charlie's
The first structure completed on Piraeus was a 'recreation center' that was thinly veiled as such. Checkpoint Charlie's is in every other way a blue collar bar with an unsurprising bent towards the military establishment. Camouflage netting hangs from the ceiling with some kind of dried vine tangled throughout. On the walls are pictures and mementos of times past on the planet they currently reside on. There are a few billiards tables smuggled out to Piraeus specifically for this location, along with card tables and an fully functional line of taps and kegs mounted to, perhaps unsurprisingly, a beat-up but taken-care-of oak bar. The matching stools and wood tables seem to indicate that the construction workers may have disassembled someone else's bar back on the Colonies. The story even goes that the name is taken from a former bar on Aerilon that happened to resemble, very closely, this particular establishment.

Rumours of the call sign dubbing event known as 'Pete's Run' has spread through the air wing like . . well like gossip, and no one gossips faster or in more detail than a bunch of pilots bored between combat runs and training drills. The additional rumour that the Admiral himself would be joining the party is enough to bring even more pilots out of the woodwork than any other 'typical' bar run. Pearson, new enough to the air wing that the squeaky hasn't quite rubbed off yet, is already at Charlies and has a beer in hand while waiting for everyone else to show up.

It's so very odd to have stepped from a war zone to a fast track academy to a place that isn't at war or alert at all times. Alastair's head is still swimming at the concepts of it all as he steps into Charlie's, looking around with a slightly confused, if pleased look on his face. Electricity. Drinks. Billiards tables, the only thing it doesn't have is a jukebox, which is probably a good thing because he may have hugged the damn thing. As he looks around, his eyes fall on Pearson as he meets her own and heads over.

"This seat taken, Benecia, or do I need to fill out a contract offer to sit next to you?" he asks her with a small, if faded smile. "Can you believe all this? It's.. hard to take in." he admits. "It almost feels like the days before.."

Dressed in her double tanks and tags, Ellie grabs a beer at the bar and scans the room for familiar faces. She upnods at Pearson and Alastair, heading over. Her red hair is loose, just longer than shoulder-length and tucked behind her ears. "Hey!" she chirps, trotting over and leaning against the table. She's the baby of the Air Wing, and one might question the legality of the drink in her hand if society wasn't in tatters. "I've seen you guys around, but I haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I'm Ellie. Heron." She extends her hand.

Nothing helps repair the spirits like a Pete's Run, right? And goofing around with the Air Wing during a naming is way better than trivia night, so long as she doesn't overstay her welcome. Randy puts out a handrolled cigarette and slips inside to head straight for the bar. There's no sense standing in a sea of people looking for the very few she knows. She's not able to actually get to the bar right away and so she stands off to the side behind a glob of people, waiting to squeeze in. She's sporting a black leather bomber jacket from what looks like the previous war, a pair of black jeans, and a dark blue band tshirt with flecks of orange and seafoam colored abstract shapes on it. Her hair is left down, a little wild, but it works out well enough.

Buchanan is there. Dressed in her off duties and lurking. She sits in just about the darkest corner she can find, nursing a barely touched beer and drinking water like there's never going to be fresh water again. Her dark eyes scan the bar, watching folks coming and going while her fingers tap out an uneven rhythm on the table she's seated at.

Niko flew his CAP mission earlier, did some PT, and then hit the showers before catching a bus down to P for the party. Off duty tank and tee is his dress code. And though he may still be the youngest viper jock in the squadron, he's no longer the newest of the nuggets. He's flown combat missions and gotten kills, but he still looks like he belongs in high school. And no callsign yet — rumor is that might happen tonight. The Ensign's face breaks into a huge grin as he steps into Charlie's and checks out the crowd. "Sweet." He heads straight for the bar.

Bennett managed, through some sort of chicanery or bribery, to get the evening off. She shows up at Charlie's a little late, though not unfashionably so, and decked out in skin-tight leather and slightly bent aviators that she doesn't immediately remove. She dimples a smile as she surveys who's here and who's (regrettably) not, though instead of immediately approaching the gaggle of pilots, she angles toward Buchanan in her dark corner.

Tipping her head back with a laugh, Benecia eyes Al for a moment before she waves her free hand to the seat that's open beside her, "Just this once, we'll skip the paperwork and formalities. One time pass," she adds with a quick flash of a wicked grin before she shares a slow nod. "I know. It's like a dream. The only thing missing is the sound of traffic through the door, the nightmare of parking spaces and someone asleep in a corner at the bar," she adds before aiming a smile at Ellie. She sets her beer aside and extends a hand toward the young, painfully young, Ensign. "Nice to meet you, Ellie. I'm Benecia Pearson, this is Alastair Piers. Viper," she taps one hand against her chest then taps Al on the shoulder, "ECO." By way of explaining what they are, not just who they are. She waves to Randy, then tips a nod at the Captain before spotting another painfully young ensign, this one being Niko.

Dressed in civilian clothes for a change, Kelton makes his way into Charlie's and, like so many other, makes straight for the bar. A beer secured, he turns around and finds a nice spot to lean, scanning the crowd before taking a drink from his glass and wandering out into the group, his path taking him gradually in the direction of Ellie, Pearson, and Alastair.

Elena grins, repeating the new ames so she doesn't forget them. A wave is given to Buchanan, a huge grin for Randy, and Niko gets a shoulder bump. "Ready to show these dinosaurs how to have fun?" she says playfully. She's usually not this demonstrative and loud. She must be in a good mood… or, you know, pre-drank. When Kelton heads over, she threads her arm through his. "'Bout time you joined us," she says, wrinkling her nose and rolling her eyes.

"Good, I'd hate to think I'd found a better offer if you'd broken out the papers." Alastair says with a warm clip to his Virgon accent as he takes a seat on the stool next to Pearson's. "Whiskey if you have it, Scotch if you don't." the ECO requests before he turns to the new voice, and the man in the middle thirties finds his eyes opening wide to the little redhead introducing herself. "Did they card you to let you in here, miss?" he asks her with a sry smirk before he nods at the introductions. "Old enough to shoot, old enough to drink, I think the current rule is."

Buchanan's tracking stare falls on Bennett as the woman heads toward her dark corner of somewhat blissful lurkdom. A flicker of a scowl, then she looks away, reaches for her beer and takes a sip. Then chases that with a gulp of water. Fingers pause briefly in their tapping, then lift, checking to make sure her hair is still in it's tidy braid before dropping to resume their tapping on the table top.

In response to Alastair's question, Ellie shrinks a little. "I served in the resistance on Picon. I earned my place here," she says quietly, her boisterous demeanor sobering.

"It's fine, kid." Alastair responds, his expression softening. "I was on Aerilon myself. Saw Picon as well." he comments quietly and gives her young woman's shoulder a gentle pat. "We've all lived this long? We all deserve it." And there's many more that do so as well.

When Pearson waves to Randy, the Sergeant arches her eyebrows, not expecting to be flagged down so quickly. Then she abandons her quest for alcohol to join the others first. "I believe the way that rule got started is some kid went into a bar and held it up for a shot of whiskey." She flashes a smile to everyone as she joins the group. "Hey." She glances towards Elena again. "Getting butthurt?"

Bennett's counter to Buchanan's scowl is a cheery smile, aviators slipped off so she comes off as a little less creepy. "You know," she murmurs in a mock conspiratorial tone, "there is no point in showing up and then hiding in a corner. Do you play billiards?" Her accent is Virgan muddled with something sweeter and more folksy. "At least let me grab you a drink that will taste better than that watered down piss."

Kelton glances down at the arm laced through his with a raised eyebrow before giving those at the table a small nod of greeting. "Peason and Piers, was it?" he repeats, mostly for his own benefit. "And you're… Herring? Harding?" he guesses, glancing at Ellie, looking for some indication that he's at least getting close to the right name.

"Me? Butthurt?" Ellie shrinks a little more. "I… I mean… I need more booze," she declares, drinking more of her beer in one go than is necessarily recommended. She snorts at Kelton's attempt at remembering her last name. "Keep trying, Turkey," she says, as that happens to rhyme with his surname, Loehrke.

Benecia is snickering, just a little, and flicks the slogan on the front of Al's shirt with one fingertip. "There's brag and then there's wishful thinking," she remarks with a smirk before she reaches out and casually shoulder slugs Al and smiles at Ellie. "I did, too, on Picon, that is, before being trained up and sent here. At least we all have the same stamp of training in common," she muses and tips the bottle to take another long drink. She lowers the bottle and waves in order, "Heron," to Ellie, "Piers," to Al and "Pearson," to herself with a grin and wonders, "You are? And Niko is here too," skimming a look around.

Buchanan stares at Bennett, her shoulders straightening slightly in the presence of the Captain. Though she at least manages to stop herself from leaping to attention. "No, sir." The Scorpian murmers, shifting her gaze toward the billiards then back. She runs her fingers around the edge of the beer glass and one shoulder lifts in a shrug. "Only here to see what it's about. Don't know if I'm going to stay yet. It's uh…. I don't really…" Breaking off, she shakes her head once. Her toneless voice doesn't give much by way of indication as to her true feelings on this whole thing. Neither does her carefully expressionless face as she continues to track the movement of folks coming in and out.

The door opens to the bar and a heavily armed Marine in combat gear holds it open. He stares at everyone with a grim face before putting two fingers to his lips and blowing hard. The SHRILL whistle carries through the whole bar and people stop to look. "Maggots and Maggettes! The honorable Admiral Louis "Hairball" Jameson calls this Naming Court to order!" he barks, looking stern. "Drinks up in hannnnnnd SALUTE!" he swipes a beer from a passing waitress and lifts it into the air, waiting for the others.

The door darkens again as another Marine carries in a 'thone', which is actually a chair from one of the rec rooms with cardboard backing duct-taped together and slap-painted brown. He calls for people to make a hole as he heads to the pool table to set it up on the table. Another chair is moved closer as a step-up for the table, the Marine then heading to the bar to get a couple drinks. That's when Jameson enters.

His attire is glorious. A light blue and pink tie-dyed shirt with gaudy necklaces of chain and cheap plastic beans hangs off his neck. Over it he wears a black leather jacket with metal studs all over. Dark aviators and a blue bandana tied around his head. The jeans and black cowboy boots complete the look. He walks in without further ceremony and heads for the pool table, hopping up the chair and up onto the table to take his throne. "Hold your positions please. I have something to say real fast."

Slugged in the shoulder, Alastair gives Pearson's hip a bump. "You of all people know that there's turbulence at times." he says with a wink at the Viper jock before he glances to the arriving newcomer. "Butthurt? I don't think you could handle her." he says with a dangerous little grin. "Especially if you can't get her name right, she may just baste and cook you up." he gives Ellie a conspiratorial wink to try to bolster her spirits. "Take a seat, Heron. Figure any friend of Pearson's is a friend of…" then he pauses as the head man makes his /glorious/ appearance. Leaning over to Pearson, he asks her quietly, "Hey, if you flash him, will he toss you beads?"

Niko secures himself a glass of beer, or whatever passes for it on Piraeus these days. The kid takes a swig and winces a little at the taste, but there's no sign he's going to stop drinking it. After a minute leaning on the bar and looking around, he spots Pearson. They both flew a mission over Aerilon recently, so Niko ambles over to say hello. "Hey." He tips his chin to the other people gathered there, save for the Marine Sergeant. Randy gets a smart ass grin instead. "Who invited the ground pounder?"

"Right right. Drink up and put some hair on your chest," Randy let's out a warm chuckle before turning to address the immediate vicinity. "Since you guys are in /my/ kingdom," that is, not in the officer's lounge, Randy continues, "Let's move this to a table yeah?" But it's at this time the Marine enters and Randy is already scrambling to get the tender's attention to get a beer. She knows what's coming. She, along with several other people waiting, are promptly spill/poured a pint of beer which she grabs and returns to the group in time to lift her own drink.

"Bennett," corrects the raptor squadron commander, blue eyes ticking away for a moment so she can light herself a smoke and bring it to her lips. "There is no need for rank in here. You are from Scorpia, yes?" Smalltalk is always a safe bet; she doesn't seem at all bothered by the viper jock's prickliness. If she manages to catch the eye of one of the pilots gathered at the bar, there's a waggle of fingers in greeting. Then Jameson makes his entrance, and she's barely able to flag down a waitress for a shot of scotch. Not her first choice, but beggars can't be choosers, can they?

Elena blushes at Alastair's teasing. "Something like that…" At the admiral's glorious entrance, she freezes, eyebrows almost meeting her hairline. She has absolutely no idea what to make of this. None.

Pearson tracks the path of the Admiral through the room, a little surprised then more and more amused as the 'Throne' is put in place and the Admiral ascends the dais to the throne, proper, not even trying to smother the quiet laugh of amusement before she elbows Al again. "Damn right he would, al natural earns quality beads," she teases with a snicker before nodding at Niko, "Piers, quiet introduction, "Janik," that's Alastair and Niko in a single sweep before she salutes the admiral with the beer that she's holding.

Kelton heaves a dramatic sigh. "It's no fun if you don't at least pretend to be offended by me not remembering your name, Heron," he points out, grinning before clearing his throat and giving a vaguely apologetic look to Piers and Pearson. "Sorry. Loehrke. ECO," he introduces himself. Just then, he's distracted, turning to the door. A smile tugging at his lips, he takes a drink before raising his glass in salute.

Military discipline may not be his strong suit, but this sort of salute Niko can manage. He gives a laugh at the old Admiral's entrance, and then lifts his beer as instructed. The gesture is followed by a healthy swig. Catching the quick introduction from Pearson, the kid quickly wipes his mouth and turns to greet Alastair. "Hey." And he adds a little more for anyone else in earshot. "Niko Janik. Vipers."

It seems that Pearson is being handsy tonight so Alastair gives the top of Pearson's thigh a slap before he salutes with his own drink towards Jameson and grins. "All natural in the best ways at that, Sweet Pea." he says to Pearson with a sly wink before he scoots in, making room for the others at the table to join him at the table. "So, Benecia, think we can drink all these youngins under the table? Bennett may be a challenge."

The Marine at the bar grabs Jameson a big glass of whiskey with a bunch of ice cubes floating in it and the Admiral leans down to take it. "Thank you, Private. Verify the guard is standing out front for the evening and then take yourself off duty. Drinks are on me tonight for the work on the chair." He grins and nods the guy off before slowly rising from his seat and lifting his glass and then his voice. "We embark on an evening that is a tradition in the realm of combat pilots and aircrew that goes back more than a thousand years. We name our people for their deeds and misdeeds. I was eighteen when I got my first callsign." There's a tilt of his drink to Elena. "Some of our own will follow in that honor and age tonight. We send each other into places we all know too well. We look after and fight for each other. The enemy gives no hell or quarter for age or rank. So, at the first combat naming in forty years, we pay tribute not just to those who serve currently, but those who have served with honor in the past." A smirk takes over his face. "We name these poor shits in the greatest honor of tradition and give the middle finger to the enemy that hates we can do this! Cheers!" He then takes a big swig of the glass and settles back down into the chair. "Take five! Get settled! Then it's gametime. Have your first victim approach the throne!"

It takes a moment for Buchanan to shift the stiffness from her shoulders. A sidelong look to Bennett followed by a short nod. She looks away again and carefully takes a couple of deep breaths, steady, even. Reaching for the beer, she takes another sip and might even respond to the question, but then the Admiral's coming into the bar and the stiffness is right back in full force. Her gaze tracks his entrance, and she blinks once at the colourful attire before hiding behind her beer and taking a long gulp, this time.

Slugging down his whiskey shot, Alastair calls out, "Let the youth lead the way!" And Elena gets a little nudge to send her to the front to go meet with the Admiral. This will go over really well, right?

"Me?" Ellie squeaks, nearly spilling her drink. "I, uh…" she looks around frantically. "Janik. He's been around longer." Smooth, kid.

Bennett spares Buchanan, for now, any further attempts at conversation. She hops up onto the neighbouring table, and tosses back her shot of scotch. There's a hiss of breath that follows, and a laugh. "Well, that was horrible. They call this scotch?" Elena gets a loud WHOOP of encouragement as Alastair nominates her to go first.

Pearson grins at Al then leans back long enough to set the empty bottle on the bar and signal for another one, only straightening again when she has the new beer in hand. "The kids, yeah. The Captain…" she eyes the captain through the room, a speculative gleam in her eyes. "Unclear. I'd have to see how she handles the first few before I could give you reasonable odds," she adds then laughs as Al volunteers the youngest of their nugget batch forward as a sacrificial. . that is to the court of honor!

Niko laughs at Elena's attempt. "Awww, go on," he encourages her with a push on the shoulder. "It can't be that bad!" And when Bennett whoops, he considers the matter closed. "See?"

Kelton quickly slips his free loose of Ellie's, encouraging her in the nudging towards the 'throne'. "Go set the bar for the night, Heron," he encourages, his smile a bit mroe friendly than teasing, though there's still a bit of playfulness in his eyes.

Elena winces, handing her beer to Randy. "Okay…" she says, shoulders pulled inward. She squeezes her eyes shut and starts walking toward the admiral. She then realizes that she should probably look where she's going. This is a pilot, folks.

Randy takes a sip of her beer. She seems to have wholly ignored Alastair's earlier rib. "Oh frak. Does anyone like the piss beer?" But then she's too distracted by Bennett sitting on the table to save or doom the little Nugget-Who-Has-Been-Chosen. Finally, she just plops down at the table closest to stake it out.

After grabbing that beer from Elena.

Buchanan is quietly relieved, and settles back into her chair, watching the proceedings as they get around to starting, with that usual blank faced look that she holds onto like armour. Setting the beer back down, she reaches for her water instead, taking a sip of that as the fingers of her free hand resume their idle tapping on the table.

Jameson sips his drink, watching the festivities. Awyis. In the dim light its impossible to see his eyes, but the guy is clearly in high spirits. It's good to be the King. But upon spying Elena approaching, he leans forward and beckons her closer. "Ensign Elena Heron?" he verifies before gesturing to the side of the table. "I'd tell you to relax, but that just ain't gonna happen. Drink up the liquid courage." He winks and sits back into the throne, another sip of the drink taken. "OKAY!" he call to the room. "ENSIGN ELENA HERON! We have our first victim of the night. I call this floor to order! We shall now accept names, but you better be able to justify it." He lifts his drink to the crowd. "Go!"

"I think Butthurt's not allowed." Alastair says quietly at his table, and leans back to take another drink. The only person he knows here is Pearson, so for now, he's letting other's lead the way.

Bennett catches the elbow of an enlisted who's playing the part of waitress tonight, and requests another drink. Whatever the woman tells her in return, it's got to be something inappropriate given the little brow-waggle she gets from the captain. "You like gin, right?" she asks Buchanan with a sly smile. "I got us both a sloe screw."

"I dunno," Niko says to Alastair's quiet suggestion. "Is it? I mean, maybe you could make it 'Bee-Aitch'?" B.H. He doesn't have a suggestion of his own, but seems to be enjoying the show immensely.

As the room goes a bit mum for a Naming, Randy rolls her eyes and shouts out, "Babe!" Then she shoots a look to Alastair. "Yeah I'd never hear the end of /that/," as if she wouldn't dare to face the consequences.

Pearson mulls it over and calls out, "Pixie, she's about the right height for it, too," said with a grin.

Elena drains her glass and looks around for another. Something less watery.

Buchanan drags her eyes away from the performance to look over at Bennett. "Never had one." Her attention shifts back to the proceedings. The Ensign sits perfectly still, correct posture and everything, no slouching here, aside from the tapping of her fingers and the ever roving gaze. Of course she doesn't make any suggestions of her own.

"Carrot top!" calls Bennett, one hand cupped around her mouth to help her voice carry.

Kelton looks on with amusement, drinking his own 'liquid courage', doing his best to get fortified for the rest of the night. The booze hasn't made him creative, yet, however, and so he doesn't make any suggestions. Yet.

"Inferno!" Pearson suggests, immediately on the heels of Bennett's voice, playing off the same inspiration.

"Fox!" Randy plays off both the red motif and her previous line of thinking. Yes, this was the product of intellect and booze.

Jameson just grins as the names start pouring out. He points to each as they ring out. "Ohhhh yeah, I'm liking some of these! Inferno and Pixie I'm liking!" He then waggles a finger to Randy, "Can't use that! It's a missile call. Sorry! But I like the thinking!"

"Cherry! Cause she probably ain't popped it yet!" Alastair yells out finally and looks at the table. "/What/?"

There's a soft snort for both Pearson and Randy's suggestions, and Bennett tosses out another, "Jailbait!" She gives a hoot of laughter at Alastair's call, clearly approving.

Gives a chuckle for all the suggestions, drinking his beer apace. Then he spews a mouthful when Alastair yells out his suggestion, laughing and choking at the same time.

Snickers out a laugh as she jabs a mild elbow at Al, laughing as she calls out, "Ballerina!"

Randy almost spits out her beer at Alastair's suggestion and coughs a little.

Elena was already flushed in the cheeks a little, but she turns around to stare wide-eyed and slack-jawed at Alastair. "…Are you serious?" she manages to say, blinking a few times and accepting some manner of shot.

Pearson cant resist and tosses one more into the pot, "Jazz hands," said with a grin.
ooc niko and Pearon didn't put names in.

Jameson nearly snorts his drink at 'Cherry' and looks over at the red hair, then back down, laughing nearly to a wheeze. One hand leaned on his knee, he looks over to Bennett, unable to stop laughing. "She's your kid, Butch. I like Cherry."

A bark of laughter comes from Kelton as he listens on, shaking his head in a wholly disbelieving, but certain not disapproving, manner at Alastair's suggestion before looking back up at the current victim, raising his beer to her by way of encouragement before taking another long swallow from it.

After the initial shock of Alastair's winning callsign, Randy watches Elena and offers a warm grin. She's not laughing though. As the ruckus subsides, she nods to Alastair for his proverbial bullseye.

Bennett is still laughing, her drink sloshing around a little in her free hand as she hops down off the table with a thunk of her boot heels. "Any objections, speak up now." A cursory glance around that's more for show than anything else, and then she fingerguns in Elena's direction with a wicked grin. "Cherry it is!"

Jameson peters out the laugh and nods in approval to Bennett. "We're makin people proud tonight." He laughs all over again and sips the whiskey before rising from the chair. "By the Order of the Bent Bird, we dub Ensign Elena Heron heretofore as 'Cherry!'" He grins over at her and flashes a thumbs up. "Welcome to combat aviation, Ensign. As the first blood of the night, it's your prerogative to pick the next victim! I also believe we have one in absentia to pick from-" he glances to Bennett to confirm something about a particular JG. "Anyone who lacks on or is up for a new title."

Buchanan remains silent, watching the proceedings. Though her nuetral mask has slipped just very slightly and there's a vague hint of curiosity, and maybe even a little amusement. She takes a small sip of her beer and chases it with a gulp of water.

Elena just got fingergunned. Don't get more official than that. With her face an unflattering shade of crimson, "Cherry" slinks back to the bar. She doesn't call a name. She just points at Buchanan.

Kelton turns away from the bar as 'Cherry' rejoins the group. "Congratulations," he grins at her, holding out a fresh beer for her in one hand, a shot of something amber-colored in the other. His own matching drinks sit behind him on the bar.

Alastair totally thought that Elena would take her vengance out on him. When she doesn't, the older ECO offers a good natured smile and welcomes her back to the group. However, as she points Buchanan, the man immediately makes his suggestion. "Cheshire! She's always such a happy enigma!" Totally ironic, that one is.

Pearson grins at Elena, newly minted Cherry and pats the young ensign on the shoulder, "Could be worse. Honest. It can ALWAYS be worse."

Jameson retakes his seat and aims a finger at Buchanan. "Ensign Kalinka Buchanan! Cherry buster already picking targets. Buchanan, get up here front and center!" he barks in good humor, pointing to where Elena just stood.

Elena elbows Alastair in the ribs, then nuzzles her head against his shoulder in a playful gesture that probably means thanks. Pearson gets a grin and a little shrug. When the younger ECO offers her a drink, she leans forward to ask Kelton softly, "Which one am I supposed to drink first?" she asks, looking between the two.

Pearson also makes a hum of sound, a thoughtful, thats right, thoughtful sound before calling out, "Adder. They're small and dangerous." She leans back against the bar and shares a sidelong grin with Al before turning forward again with another suggestion, "Ninja, all that martial arts stuff she does in the gym," two suggestions for the price of one!

Bennett nudges Buchanan in the ribs with her elbow. Not too hard, but enough to get her attention. "Spotlight's on you, darling," she purrs. "Go on."

Jameson waggles a hand at Pearson. He's still waiting for more.

Alastair gives Elena's crown a playful kiss when she nuzzles. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be popping a new name soon enough." he says with a grin at her as he leans back to take a drink.

Buchanan blinks as she's pointed out surprise making her defences slip and she flinches away from the nudge to her ribs. After a moment of hesitation pulls herself to her feet and after giving the bar a once over, she makes a circuitous route through the tables and people, taking the course of least resistance. Finally reaching the Admiral, the Scorpian stands to attention, her dark eyes focused on random point just beyond his shoulder, "Sir." She nods once, awaiting further orders, it would appear.

"Face the firing squad, Buchanan." Jameson just gestures for her to turn as he taps his glass, thinking as he looks at her. "Buchanan. Bucky. Bucking." He chuckles. "Tell me, Ensign, do you ride?" Ignore the cowboy boots. Or don't. Can't miss that grin on his face.

Randy whistles when Buchanan makes her way up and lifts her glass in appreciation before downing what's left of it. "Hey, one of yous get me a drink on my tab," she says as she leans, tapping Pearson then Alastair on the shoulder in turn.

"Haymaker!" Cherry shouts, cupping one hand to the side of her mouth. "Saw her murder a frakkin' punching bag yesterday."

"Porcupine," Bennett calls out in the wake of the viper jock beating a retreat from her dark corner. The remainder of her drink is tossed back, and she finally saunters over to join the other pilots at the bar, parking herself atop a stool next to Kelton. Her leather-clad legs are crossed with a soft squeak, and she leeeeans across the counter to try to gain the bartender's attention. Which shouldn't be too hard.

"Shieldmaiden, as she's the last thing that some of those canners are gonna see out there. And I'm sure there's those that wouldn't mind her carrying them off." Alastair offers as he continues to drink.

"Loudmouth," Elle suggests, grinning. "Because I think I've heard, like, seven words from her since I arrived."

"Ray, like a manta or sting ray," Randy offers idly from her table near the bar. Others are using it too, mostly to hold their drinks.

Grinning at Randy, "Get him drunk, he might sing," Pearson suggests with a grin before making a quiet, "ooh," of sound at Al's suggestion. "Another good one." She lifts her voice, "White noise!"

"Loudmouth!" Bennett agrees, rapping her knuckles on the table and laughing.

"Haymaker!" Jameson seems to approve. Looking ot the others, "Porcupine and Shieldmaiden! Good, but both those are too long. Shorten 'em up." He then looks out, "Loudmouth… You're gettin long! Shorten 'em up!"

Kelton closes his eyes, shaking his head slowly at Elena. "Kids these days," he laments before grinning and holding the shot glass a little closer. "Little one, then the big one," he explains. "Wait for me, though," he adds, nodding to his own drinks behind him, which he'll take as soon as Cherry relieves him of the ones in his hands. "Sunshine," he offers up. "For her cheerful disposition." A small nod and smile are offered to Bennet when she takes the seat beside him before his attention goes back to the naming.

Buchanan barely reacts to the Admiral's comments. Doing as she's told, she turns smartly to face her fellow pilots. Once again, focusing on a random point past them, she stands quietly as they fling their suggestions out there. Apparently not terribly bothered. The Scorpian stands perfectly still, focusing entirely on her breathing, keeping it calm and even.

"Buckwild! Because we all know she's a party animal!" Alastair calls out as he shakes his head. "Loudmouth is too close to Chatterbox, who I heard recently passed."

"I didn't know that," Cherry says regarding Chatterbox, casting her eyes down. She gets back into the spirit of things, though, making a few more suggestions for Buchanan. "Whisper. Uh… Maid. Because I always see her straightening bapkins and shit on tables when she thinks no one's looking."


"She's a short little angry girl. Surely there's something for that." Alastair says as he looks around his little group for ideas.

"SLAG!" Randy yells out. Leave it to the Marine in the room to make everything dirty in some way…at least to the Virgons in the room.

Niko has been watching and cheering the new callsigns, but offering no suggestions of his own. Maybe thinking silence will help him when his turn comes around. But it's a good time and he's downed a beer in the process.

"Slag and Cherry, we're all thinking with our genitals tonight!" Alastair barks out a laugh. "Slag!"

"Klink!" Cherry shouts. "Like, you're, like, taking her first name and, like, smuushing it up. Kalinka. Klink." It would seem the ensign is intoxicated.

"SLAG!" Jameson hoots, pointing to Randy. "The Marine names it!" The man slowly rises from the chair, lifting his glass. "By the Order of the Bent Bird, we dub Ensign Kalinka Buchanan as 'SLAG!'" He grins over at her. "Welcome to combat aviation, Ensign. Pick the next target."

"You say that like there's anything else to think with," Randy flashes a smirk Alastair's way. When Jameson singles her out, she tosses up a big thumbs up and then shouts out a cheer after he's done with his proclamation.

Elena marches over to Randy and pulls her by the arm over to the closer clump of pilots. "Jarhead, you're a pilot tonight!" she grins.

Buchanan isn't even remotely intoxicated and silently accepts her new 'name' with a slight nod. She scans the room, fixes her gaze on Alastair, "Piers." The Scorpian projects her voice just enough to be heard over the general ruckus before removing herself from front and center. Instead of returning to her dark corner, she takes a roundabout route toward the bar where she requests… a glass of water.

"Well hell, it rolled around to me." Alastair comments. Pulling off his glasses, he tucks them away. "Make sure you use lube at least, Sweet Pea." he tells Pearson before he goes up and salutes the boss with the boss with a shotglass. "Up an at 'em, sir!" he says as he moves to take a seat at the edge of the billards table that Jameson has claimed."

Elena downs another shot and threads one arm through Kelton's and one arm through Randy's. "T-Rex!" she calls out. "'cause he's a frakkin' dinosaur!"

Bennett coughs on her drink when someone suggests Slag. Not that she's a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but it's simply not something she's accustomed to hearing in casual conversation. Amused, she licks spatters of alcohol off her knuckles and wrist, though refrains this time from any jocular displays of approval as Buchanan passes. "I like it," she tells the pilot with a wink. Then, a wolf whistle as Alastair is called up.

"Oi," Randy exclaims as she slips out of her chair haphazardly. It's an easy slide down to her feet before she's led to join the rest of the group. "Does that mean I get an honorary callsign?" Randy asks like a small child at an airshow, hamming it up.

"I'm a frakking T-Rex riding a Raptor, how awesome is that?!" Alastair fires back. "Might as well call me Fossil if you're gonna do that!"

Niko gives a hearty cheer for the newly annoited Slag, then laughs when Buchanan single out the older man nearby. He tries to give Alastair a slap on the back before the man goes to stand before the 'board.' And then he yells out, "Gramps!" Because the ECO is clearly old, right?

"You're a TRAP! HAHAHAHAHAHA," Randy busts out laughing and points with her beer hand even as she's being led.

"That's not what your mom said last night!" Alastair shoots back at Niko with a smirk.

"Jester," Pearson manages to get out before laughing hard enough that her eyes water. "Though Fossil Fuel is to many syllables," she snickers even harder at Randy's words.

"T-Rex Riding A Predator," Randy explains sagely before sipping her beer.

"FRAP," Pearson counters immediately, "FOSSIL Riding a Predator!"

"Dimples!" Cherry suggests. "Have you seen dat face?" When she hears Randy's suggestion, she cracks up. "I love it!"

Jameson nods as Alastair is called up, "Ensign Alastair Piers!" He sips the whiskey happy. "Shit, that practially makes itself. A name like that? Endless docking jokes. But godsdamn son, you're nearly my age." The Admiral laughs. "Grumpy Old Dodgy Yob. Goldy." It's an option. But he aims a finger at Pearson, "Ohhh I like that, too."

Glass of water in hand, Buchanan removes herself from the bar and works her way back toward her comfortable dark corner and the remains of her beer. She settles onto her chair, and takes a sip of the water. Watching the proceedings once more, a little more relaxed since her naming and shaming is done with.

"You would like to know how many times I've docked, sir." Alastair says with a lift of his chin and winks at Cherry. He's old enough to ride this out in style, slugging back his beer as he does so. "I can tell you what Fossil means in six different languages."

"Maybe it should just be Flap. For always flapping your mouth," Randy suggests before finishing off the nasty beer. "Yuck," she says out loud before reaching to deposit the mug on the bar.

"Thesaurus," Pearson suggests with a snicker. "It speaks for itself. In six different languages!"

"FOG!" Niko contributes at the top of his lungs. "Frakking Old Guy!"

"FROG," because damn it, she just can't stop the humor, "Frakking REALLY old Guy!" Pearson calls out with a grin.

Bennett suggests on the heels of a pull from her smoke, "Honkytonk." Might be missed amidst the general ruckus, as she's generally soft spoken - though the drink makes her bolder. As for the name, it's common parlance among the lower echelon on Virgon.

Jameson slowly rises from the chair. "By the Order of the Bent Bird, we dub Ensign Alastair Piers heretofore as 'Trap!'" He reaches over to cheers the beer before taking a sip. "Welcome to combat aviation, Ensign. Pick your next target, son." Sitting back into the chair, he takes another long sip and kicks his feet out to relax.

Niko gives a congratulatory whoop for Frog, lifting his beer in salute before downing the last of the glass. He's looking red in the face and pleasantly buzzed, but goes for a refill anyway. The night is far from over and he's still standing.

"I accept it with all the dignity and respect it doesn't deserve, sir!" Alastair hops down and slaps Pearson on the bottom. "Tag, you're it, Sweet Pea!"

"The Marine is naming more of us than we are," Ellie points out, wrapping her arm around Randy. "I say for tonight, we call her Short Stuff… and she can't say shit about it 'cause we decided it for her."

Pearson laughs, clapping as Trap is officially sharpied on Alastair then both eyerolls and shoulder slugs Al as she saunters forward then hops up on the chair before stepping up on the table. "Alright, have at it," she calls out with a grin, hands resting on her hips.

"Before she was here, guys, she headhunted from commercial lines for a living. I think Agent would be a good starting point." Alastair suggests with a shrug of his shoulders.

jameson regards the point from Ellie and nods sagely. He aims a finger at Randy. "Cherry has a good point, Marine. If you want to name names, then you have no choice. One more offering from you and we're strapping you into a bird on a combat run until you get your vomit comet bars." It's a warning, but a friendly one. And one he probably intends to follow-through with. Looking back, "Ensign Benecia Pearson. Fire away, and no- not Agent."

"Yes, Agent. Like in those ridiculous outfits and th-yes," Randy sets her beer down to clap for Alastairs suggestion if only because of the lovely outrageous mental image it provides. "Oi. Short Stuff? I'm not drunk enough for that," Randy rumbles before she watches Pearson get up on the table. "Hmm."

Bennett, meanwhile, is on her fourth drink of the night, and very pleasantly buzzed. Alastair's suggestion gets a "hmmm" of consideration, but ultimately a headshake. "Deadhead?" she ponders. Commercial pilot slang.

"Headhunted, huh? Maybe we should call her Merc. Like Mercenary." Ellie leans comfortably against Randy. "Or Pirate."

"Hunted for and From, to be clear, sir!" Pearson explains with a grin aimed at the Admiral.

"Hey, that sounds like fun," Randy shouts back across the room to Jameson, lifting her glass.

"Damn, I like Deadhead," Jameson points out. "Keep goin!"

"Spud!" Niko calls out, then rushes to explain the reference. "For giving me a lecture about making a radio with a potato and some stuff."

"Potato, the correct wires and a pencil linked to a speaker," Pearson clarifies with a laugh.

"Frog!" Randy yells in support of the goofy

"Tot!" Randy follows up Niko's suggestion without thinking…oops. She quickly sips her beer innocently.

Okay, so Agent is out. "Oracle?" Alastair suggests. "She had a lot of computer programming. SPUD. She's Probably Updating Dumbafts!"

Jameson keeps pointing. He likes these. But then to Randy, "Your fate is sealed, Wee One. SEALED." he laughs and looks back. "Man I am LIKING Spud. Lecturing on potatoes for radios? Gods, PEarson, what the hell?" he laughs.

"Wizard or Wiz. If she's a computer wiz," Randy offers up quickly. Yeah, the mouth does not stop running.

If she's going to do the time, she might as well to the crime…more and more.

Pearson gives the Admiral a grin, "Just explaining to the kid how to acquire a rudimentary power source, Sir."

"Spudette!" Alastair offers up, the female version of Spud. "Or MASH. Man Ain't She Hot."
Title set for channel <Public>.

"Like some kind of professor!" Niko yells back to Pearson, like it's a put down of some sort.

"Spud! Spud! Spud!" Bennett chants, the hand not occupied with her cigarette cupped around her mouth to increase her volume.

Jameson listens to the rest, but hears the chant from the ranking Air Wing member and slowly rises from his chair. Yep, he's feeling the whiskey. "Alright! By the Order of the Bent Bird, we dub Ensign Benecia Pearson heretofore as 'Spud!'" The guy grins at the Ensign next. "Welcome to combat aviation. Pick your next target."

Sketching a jaunty salute at the Admiral, "I shall wear it with all the pride it deserves and attempt to bring glory to my name, first of my line!" Pearson winks then bows to the crowd before pointing at Niko, "Move your ass, kid, and hop up here," before jumping down off the table, landing with her knees flexed and saunters back to snag the bottle of beer she'd been nursing. Then pinches Al, because he deserves it.

"Ensign Niko Janik!" Jameson barks. "Get your ass up here, boy!" he laughs. "Personally, I had an experience flying a sim with this guy. He flew us up a box canyon so low he was dodging trees. He popped out the other side to start the combat dive I'm pretty sure he clipped the top needles on the pines. Frakkin glorious." Jameson sips the drink and relaxes back. "Have at it!"

Niko gives a victorious yell. His suggestion wins! And then he gives a laugh when Spud calls him out, and raising his glass on high, starts to make his way down front. "Okay, okay!" Beer still aloft, he turns to shout out, "Bring it on!" And then he drinks. Yeah, maybe the kid is feeling it after two or three beers.

"Peachfuzz!" Alastair calls out. "Just like Cherry!"

"Colt!" Ellie calls out. "He thinks he's a stallion, but he's really just a pony. Or…" she frowns. "Are ponies baby horses?"

"Scruff," Pearson carols out and laughs.

"Or just Fuzz!" Randy adds to the mix. "PONY," she says with eyes wide when she hears Ellie…it's like a reflex.

Randy starts pointing to Elena to give her credit, grinning broadly.

Elena giggles. "Omigods… Pony!!!!!" She cracks up, snorting.

"Dunce!" Pearson adds, grinning, "For the dunce cap he probably wore in school, to not know the trick about spuds as a power source!"

"OooOooooh!" Niko gives a good natured groan for where the naming seems to be headed. "Oh man." Still he seems to be enjoying it. All in good fun. Pony though? That has him laughing and shaking his head. "I'd rather be Peachfuzz!"

Jameson can't stop laughing at the names and reference back to Ellie. He's bent over, open hand holding his forehead. "Holy shit, this is great," he sputters. Leaning back, he waggles his finger. "I am NOT dressing down an Ensign named Pony. But COLT. Shaky legs, thinks he's a stallion? Man, that's got solid gold stories all over it."

"Gelding!" Alastair calls out. Just.. don't ask. Really.

Pearson chokes on the beer she's drinking and laughs, eyes watering. "Mule," she counters with a grin.

"Hey now!" Niko calls back to Alastair, "That wasn't what your daughter said!"

"Elena!" Alastair says, looking to Cherry. "What have you been doing with that young man?"

Cherry flutters her eyelashes. "Oh, papa, you know I don't like them menfolk," she drawls, grabbing Randy around the waist and pulling her close.

"Good girl. You know me and your maw don't want you messing with those Picon boys, Cherry." Alastair responds, giving Pearson a pinch.

<FS3> Randy rolls Reaction-1: Failure.

Bennett doesn't have any suggestions just at the moment; she considers Niko carefully over the rim of her glass as she sips, fingertips absently toying with the jewelry in her left ear.

Niko looks back and forth between Alastair and Elena, at first confused and then like he thinks they're putting him on. "You didn't get a half hour lecture on frat?!" he jokingly yells to Cherry and the Marine. "Man, someone got off easy."

Pearson rambles it off, "Janik, Jam, Jelly, Jelly fish, squid, ink, blotter… eraser.." tips a look at Niko, "Squid."

"Tentacles." Alastair rumbles under his breath.

"Mind out of the gutter, Trap," St. Clair says with a laugh, thumping Alastair's chair with the toe of her boot.

Randy laughs nervously at the interchange between Cherry and Trap. "You couldn't handle me," she teases the young Ensign, eyebrows arched in a slightly awkward expression, frozen.

"If there wasn't a gutter, Captain, his mind would be homeless and wandering," Spud explains with a sidelong grin.

Cherry quickly lets go of Randy, because it was /totally/ a joke and all. She looks at Bennett, confused. "What's wrong with tentacles?" she asks, earnestly.

"You just can't keep your eyes off me, Spud." Alastair responds with a wink.

"Gods, you're so obvious," the Aquarian says blatantly to Trap. ".

"Really," Bennett says to Elena, brows up a fraction. "Do you really think you can say that over the wireless with a straight face? Tentacles." Because clearly, she can't; she promptly starts giggling.

The Admiral rises from his seat and lifts his glass. "By the Order of the Bent Bird, we dub Ensign Niko Janik heretofore as 'Pony!'" he drinks a big sip from the glass and leans over to cheers. "Welcome to combat aviation, Ensign. Keep flying like you have and I'll personally put you in for Stud when you make JG," he laughs. Tink of the glass and he looks over to Bennett. "Who do we have left? Not sure we have any Ensigns left."

Elena looks utterly perplexed. "I don't get it," she says, looking around for clarification.

"Gods, you're so obvious," the Aquarian says blatantly to Trap. Randy turns to order some shots. "On my tab please." She turns and pats Elena on the shoulder, then whispers something to her.

"Frak you all," Niko accepts his new callsign with a rueful grin and all the grace he can muster. That and a healthy dose of beer. Then he gives the Admiral a quick salute. "Thank you sir, But you're really not my type." That said, he looks around, squinting a bit to try and locate the next victim. "Who's left, anyway?"

"Lieutenant Kelsey Wescott," Bennett calls out.
You whisper, "It's in frakked up pornos. Tentacle porn. Like, Moby Dicks." to Elena.

Jameson nods to Bennett and rises. "Currently, Jay-Gee Wescott is on mission over Aerilon! Poor, poor pilot," he laughs. "her name has been submitted in absentia. As Crown of the Bent Bird ORder, I open the re-naming away from Squire." he sips his drink. "Hit it!"

"Oh!" Someone else Niko knows. Kelsey. He looks around for the raptor pilot, but can't find her in the crowd. But Jameson knows the score, so he's off the hook. The newly-named 'Pony' escapes center stage, going back to join those by the bar.

When Randy whispers to Cherry, her eyes go wide. "You are all frakkin' freaks, man," she accuses, laughing. She points a finger and waves it around. "All of you."

"Don't forget that the Sergeant here wants a name, so she don't feel left out." Alastair considers for a moment, and offers as he looks around. "I got nothing on Kelsey. Can someone tell us about her?"

Beer long sinced finished and another ocean of water gone, Buchanan finally rises from her seat and begins to make her way toward the exit, as usual taking the round-about route.

Niko gives Elena a 'what did I do?' look for the finger wagging, then gets himself a refill. He thinks for a moment, focusing remaining brain power on a new callsign for Kelsey. "Wreckage!" is his first offering.

Bennett winks at Elena, and takes a swig of her drink before offering, "Betty!" After Bitchin' Betty, naturally.

"Badger!" Randy calls out. She's in so deep now it doesn't even matter. Now the Wing is eager to give her a nickname? That'll be juuuuuust great. Ah, she pulls the delivered shots closer and taps Elena on the elbow. "One's for you." Then she offers shots of something amberish to Trap and Spud.

"Divot," Pearson calls out, picking up the banner.

"Fun-Sized." Alastair offers, unsure of himself.

"Stripper!" Cherry calls out. "First day I was here ended with her gettin' nekkid on that table over there," she declares, pointing to the near corner decisively.

Pony laughs his ass off at Cherry's suggestion, and the story that goes with it. "You gotta be kidding me," he says, glacing over the table in question.

"Peeler!" Bennett calls out, close on the heels of Elena's suggestion.

"Angel! It's a stripper name!" Randy shouts before grabbing more shot glasses. Next she hands one to Bennett, and steps over to give one to Niko. She returns and orders more shots.

"Striptease," Pearson suggests, laughing. "NO no. Not Angel. Um. . Bambi!"

"Oh hey! Thanks!" Niko gives Randy a huge grin when she offers him the shot. He takes it up the glass and downs the shot. For a second it looks like all is well, and then he sputters and coughs. Some beer helps him recover. "Did she keep anything on?" he asks, "'Cause we could name her for that. Like boots, or whatever."

"Her skivvies." Randy smirks and then leans her head to the side to call out, "Skivvies!" into the mix.

"Skivvies? Knickers!" Alastair offers.

Elena points to Trap. "Knickers!" she echoes.

"Knickers, for stripping down to her knickers," Pearson says after glancing at Elena and grinning. "Though it does solve the riddle, boxers or briefs for the LT JG."

"Yeah, Knickers!" Niko is full of drunken enthusiasm. This is the greatest idea ever!

As everyone else is tossing nicknames related to strippers, there's a pause, "Now let's give the girl some modesty." Alastair offers. "Knicker's is better than Garterbelt or something like that."

"You'll have to dare her yourself," Randy shoots to Pearson and gives Elena an eye as if to keep her mum about it. "Knickers!"

Jameson listens to the roundtable of names and starts laughing. "Well, she earned it. I'll take it." He sips the glass once more and lifts it. "By the Order of the Bent Bird, we dub Lieutenant, Junior Grade Kelsey Wescott heretofore as 'Knickers!'" he laughs. "Gods have mercy on her soul." He settles back down into the chair and looks back to Bennett. "Who is next? You? Or do we have any others who require a name out there?" he asks with a quirked brow.

Elena pushes Kelton forward. "This one!"

Bennett doesn't look too wild about the suggestion, but she is plenty amused by the turn this has taken, and well on her way to being too drunk to care. Jameson gets a hazy-eyed stare and a quirk of her brows when she's mentioned, but then Elena saves her, and offers up Kelton instead. She gives a loud whoop, and tosses back the shot Randy slid in front of her.

"Ensign Kelton Loehrke! Get your ass up here. naming time." Jameson laughs and sips his drink. "Alright, we'll open the bidding at ten cubits!"

"Ten cubits on Turkey! Rhymes with Loehrke," Ellie grins.

"Turkey!" Bennett calls out, colliding with Elena's.

"Loehrke could rhyme with Loki, too," Pearson calls out!

"Baster!" Alastair calls out. "Since he's a turkey!"

"What part are you trying to rhyme?" Randy laughs skeptically. "Fool! Everything that's come out of this guy's mouth has been like listening to the class clown."

Listening to Randy, Alastair looks around for a moment and then ahems. "CRST." he says it as 'Crust'. "Can't Remember Squat Today."

Kelton, quiet for most of the night, makes his way to the required position, beer in hand as he looks at his comrades, an easy smile (no doubt helped along by more than a little alcohol) on his face. "You can do better than that," he teases, wrinkling his nose good-naturedly at Bennett and Elena both.

Jameson laughs, nodding. "Oh, I dunno. Baster might be a good name." He looks back to the crowd, lifting his chin. "C'mon! Give us some dirt!"

"Er, the last part of his name," Pearson replies with a grin at Randy then hoots out a laugh at Kelton's words. "Oooh hoooo, a challenge. Now we're getting somewhere." She points a finger at Kelton, "Bold, and a bit arrogant, kind of cocky too, I'd say, with enough skill to back up the walk that goes with the talk, he isn't all hat no herd, so far, at least. So…" she wiggles her shoulders briefly, "Rooster."

"Bantam Rooster, in fact," Pearson adds with a grin.

"Twofer!" Ellie sputters, turning red. "I…" she looks down into the empty shot glass in her hand, swaying a bit. "I… saw him in the shower one time, and… he… he looks like he's a two-for-one deal," she explains quickly, grabbing another shot.

"Icarus!" Randy yells before taking a shot and knocking it back. She needs to catch up. Everyone is so much more drunk than she is, or at least, that's her perception.

"Dumpling. For chicken and dumplings." Alastair says, apparently not letting Kelton off the hook. "Or Noodle, or Stuffing because he's full of… stuff."

"So he remembers not to get too hot for his britches out there," Randy follows up her suggestion. "Dumplings. Mmm. That sounds good." As in delicious.

Kelton grins out at the crowd, taking a drink from his beer. At the suggestion from 'Cherry', he coughs into his drink before raising an eyebrow at her, shaking his head slowly.

"Cluck," Pearson shortens it down to one syllable and grins. "And yeah, that's exactly what it's going to sound like over the com."

Niko's focus is looking a little hazy, and he doesn't seem to have a clue what name to throw out for the ECO up front. "I got nothing…" he says with a sigh, then knocks back some more beer.

Bennett's had plenty to drink, but she's not yet begun to slur her words or behave inappropriately. No more so than usual, anyway. Long legs draped out in front of her and crossed at the ankles, she nurses some sort of cider and chases swigs of it with pulls from her smoke. "Fin!" she calls out, referring probably to the pyramid goal post.

"Cluck!" Alastair agrees, mainly because it's time for the night to wind down as he looks over at Bennett's legs. "It is so unfair that the boss has gams that won't quit." he says to Pearson with a nod.

"Ooh. Nice. Cluck," Randy points to Pearson. She knocks back another shot and digs around in her jacket pocket for something to smoke.

Jameson hears the calls and finds a majority. "By the Order of the Bent Bird, we dub Ensign Kelton Loehrke heretofore as 'Cluck!'" He looks over with a laugh and shakes his head. May the Gods have mercy. "Welcome to combat aviation." Relaxing back into his chair with his whiskey, he looks over to Bennett. "Any more? Or are we closing court?" Yes he's looking at her.

Pearson snickers out a laugh at Trap then grins, "Yeah, she does. IT's important to have pins that go all the way to the ground, though, or it's tough to move like that."

Rising to his feet, Alastair stretches out and finishes off his shot. "Think I need some fresh air." he says, glancing to Pearson. "Want to buddy system to make sure that I don't get kidnapped by whatever it is around here on this planet?"

"I think that is everyone," Bennett answers after a brief glance over her shoulder, and a wink for the Admiral. Nope, no way in hell is she putting her own name up. Not with this crowd. Besides, she's got a game of billiards and a couple of jarheads calling her name. Quite literally, in the case of the jarheads.

"You just think I'll get lost, on foot, if I don't have a navigator to keep me on course," Spud replies with a laugh as she rises to her feet and snags a pair of beer bottles off the bar, slides over the coin she has on her and hands one to Trap.

Kelton raises his glass to the crowd before turning and directing the drink salute to the admiral, draining it before walking back out amongst the group with his new callsign. "At least you lot did better than /Turkey/," he says, grinning at Elena as he approaches the bar for another drink.

Elena laughs, heading over to a table to sit down. "You look like a turkey."

Randy lifts her glass to the Admiral as he takes his leave. "Ooh, apparently we're migrating," she says to Kelton. She grabs some of the incoming shots and follows after Elena to drop them off before sitting down, the unlit joint held casually between her lips. She lights up before sitting down and blows the smoke upwards.

A new drink secured, Kelton follows Elena and Randy to the table and takes a seat. "So, what'd you think of your first naming ceremony, Cherry?" he asks, glancing over at Elena. "All you were hoping it would be?"

"It's kind of… cutesy, isn't it?" Ellie says, looking a little dismayed. She reaches idly for one of the shots on Randy's tray, swirling it thoughtfully.

The smoke swirls up into the dim light and Randy reaches out to ash her joint. "You're not supposed to like it. It's a form of hazing," Randy points out before she reaches for a shot. "Bottoms up." She pounds the table with the shot glass and knocks it back.

"It's not so bad as callsigns go. Just pretend it's a redhead joke," Kelton suggests with a chuckle before taking a shot of his own. The glass is tapped against the table before the ensign drinks it. "Could be worse. Someone could've suggested 'Twofer' for you," he points out, looking amused.

"I think it's about the same, Cluck." Cherry leans over, trying to swipe Randy's joint.

"Yeah that was pretty awful. It's good it didn't stick." Randy /could/ have encouraged it if she was feeling particularly mischievous, but apparently she has a heart. She lets Elena steal her joint right out from between her fingers, causing a bit of a smirk to emerge. "For a second there, I thought you'd be the one to luck out with Rooster."

"I was hoping," Kelton admits, nodding to Randy, a smile tugging at the side of his mouth. "Well, can't always get what we want," he sighs with greatly exaggerated lament. "Either of you shoot?" he asks, nodding towards the billiards tables.

"I did a little when I was in uni, but it's been a few years," Randy shrugs. Yep, an Enlisted whose been to university. "You shoot?" She takes one of the shots and puts it in front of Kelton.

Kelton gives a little shrug. "I have shot. Not like I'm hustling the tables for drinks or anything, though," he replies, picking up the shot in front of him and raising it up. "To a successful naming," he toasts, tapping the glass againt the table before tossing the liquor back. "I'm usually a bit more sober when I shoot, though," he adds with a chuckle.

"Aye. To a successful naming, and to Cluck. You've got luck in your call sign. That's good." Randy grins and then taps another shot glass against the table after Kelton, following suit. "Well you know nine ball?" Randy rises up and pats the table.

The empty shot glass is set down rather firmly as Kelton pushes to his feet, nodding. "Extra luck never hurt anyone," he agrees. "Yeah, I've shot some nine ball before. I'll even rack 'em," he offers, moving towards one end of the table and beginning to put the necessary balls in the diamond-shaped rack.

<FS3> Randy rolls Body+Mind-2: Failure.

There are no kiddie sized cues in the bar. That's the first thing Randy learns when the two get over to their preferred table. No matter though, it's not like her pride would let her use one anyways. She grabs a stick and some chalk. Once Kelton has it set up, she grabs the cue ball and rolls it into place slightly off centered. She lines up the shot and lets the delivers a solid blow, sending the cue ball careening into the diamond shaped formation. It smacks into them, breaking most of them apart, but leaving a clump around the corner. Nothing goes in though.

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