PWD #17: Downtime Diversions
Downtime Diversions
Summary: Various members of the crew of the Orion spend their off-time in the rec room. Talk of home, relationship perils, possible temples, fine cigars, and the relative sporting merits of the Argentum Bay Silverstars versus the Caprica City Buccaneers.
Date: 19/12/2012 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: A few are referenced, probably, but none in particular.
Aios Augie Bennett Hook Iphigenia Lennox Phin 
Rec Room — Deck 3 — Battlestar Orion
With several smaller rec rooms spread throughout the ship, this one is the largest by far and is the primary recretion location aboard the ship. Longer than it is wide, with several hatches in and out, the room is divided by load-bearing beams that section it off into even thirds. There are a dozen tables, couches, and coffee tables set up — though all of the tables and chairs are the drab metal of the rest of the fleet. The couches seem to have been purchased privately and moved in here at some point in the past, heavy use and careful patching evident. Magazines are strewn around randomly, as are racks of books, plus a couple flatscreen televisions set up. Along one wall are several billiards tables, along with a bar for coffee and snacks.
December 19, 2004 (PWD #17)

It's a quiet evening in the rec room. A few folks are playing Triad over at the table, the billard table is occupied by a pair of enlisted and a little pile of cubits that noone cares to mention. Sitting in a chair over by one of the monitors, Augie takes a long drag off of his cigar, and blows it out through his nose. As he does so, he plays a few absent chords on his guitar from some backworld song. On the monitor, a couple of talking heads and a former Pyramid player are going on about the playoff seedings and who has the best shot at home field for the series.

Phin wanders into the Rec Room, both the off-duties he's wearing and…well, his location in general indicating he's at liberty for awhile. The coffee machine is his first stop. He pours some into a thick ceramic mug emblazoned with the 'Silverstars' Pyramid team logo. The brew gets a sniff and a shrug, but his ambivalence toward the quality dtoesn't keep him from drinking it. He glances at the monitor, and the sports talking heads, though it's Augie's guitar stylings that attract most of his attention. He leans against a convenient table to listen.

With the Silverstars having what seems to be a good season, Phin should be proud to carry the mug. Plugging away at the guitar, Augie doesn't notice Phin at first, his eyes closed, and head leaned down - the country hat that covers his head also blocks it out. He doesn't sing, he knows better than that. He just strums a few more times, before glancing up. Noticing the youngster, Augie folds his hands down over the guitar. "I don't take requests, kid." he semi-jokes. You can never tell with that voice of his. "How goes."

"Wasn't going to ask, sir. Just trying to place it," Phin says with a chuckle. "Tune was familiar but I couldn't, quite." He shrugs, and heads over to take another chair near enough to the monitor to kind of watch it. It's still more or less in Augie's area. "That your guitar, or do they have those in like…communal storage or something?"

"This one's mine." Augie admits. It's beat up, the lustre isn't very good anymore, and the case is decorated with patches from other units. CMF Scorpia, the Examplia, Valkyrie. "I'm not sure they have any in storage, you might ask though. I brought this one with me when we first launched back in ninety-seven. Been with me since. Do you play?"

Phin shakes his head. "Nah. I kind of wanted to learn when I was younger, but I never had the cubits to get one. And by the time I was actually pulling a paycheck, seemed kind of late. Seems like it takes work to do it decent, anyway. A couple guys I hung out with at the Academy played, but not well. Mostly they just seemed to use them as a prop to meet girls." The 'CMF Scorpia' path gets a curious look, which figures. His accent has plainly been mellowed by off-world living, but it still contains a slight gulf coastal twang of the planet.

"If you need a prop to get a gal to feel her bread buttered, then you're trying to hard." Augie says sagely. "My grandpa got me this one when I was a youngin. Guess he thought it was better than being a shipyard worker." A small chuckle is given as he takes another draw off of his cigar. "But you, you don't need any props. Ya step in a room, and the gals go off like does in a rut. Never understand why gals go for boys prettier than them." Shrugging, he sets aside the guitar. "If you ever want to learn, I ain't any good at it, but I know the basics."

Phin snorts and laughs at that, shaking his head. "I think the wings are kind of a prop." Which he sounds ambivalent about, but it's not the kind of thing that's exactly worth complaints. "For some chicks, at least. Which is still kind of weird but…" Another shrug. Definitely not something he can precisely complain about. "You from around the Shipyards?"

"Born and raised." Augie says with a short little laugh. "If you want to call it that. Gramps was a ironworker, I picked up the trade at sixteen, used it to pay my way through school. Hard work, but made me the man I am today." Expelling the smoke through his nose, he continues. "Down on the bay." he finally affirms. "You?"

"I lived my last few years in Celeste. Went to school at the Ares academy there," Phin replies. Though he doesn't sound like a capitol kid. Which is obvious enough that he has to amend, "I was born in the 'Bay." Argentum Bay, that is. "Haven't been back in years though."

"Don't blame ya for not going back there, kid. Place was a Hades-hole when I left it, doubt it was any better after." Augie comments as he takes one last draw off of the cigar, and stubs it out. "Name's Augie, by the by. Augie Garrido. Damage Control officer. I'd introduced myself last night, but that Kelsey gal couldn't keep her jaw off the floor around you. And I doubt it's cause of the wings."

"Heh." Phin doesn't quite blush, but he can't help but look a little abashed. "I'd put cubits on it being that. I mean, not that I screw around with enlisted, sir." He says it quickly. Lest the man get any ideas about his frat virtue. "Name's Phin McBride, if I didn't say it to you direct the other night. I got a brother in the Marines, and he was stationed back home for awhile before getting on out here. Never did get why he took a post there of all places. At least he got to take in some 'Stars games. They're having a good year. Kicked serious C-Buc as in the last game I saw before we left colony space. Not that beating the Buccaneers is exactly an accomplishment, but still counts."

"Ah hell, don't go all cutsey on me, and don't go all up to confronting her, either. She seems to be a good kid." Augie shrugs. "My gramma and her bridge team could put ten on the Bucs. Looks like the Stars getting home field throughout. Good year. Just hope they don't trip up on the Archers." He shrugs. "So, ya got kin aboard? Good thing to have - I have a younger brother, but I haven't seen him in close to twenty years. He was six when I left home."

Phin shakes his head quickly. "No, sir. I wasn't planning on it. She seems totally nice, and like she's good at her job. I'm just saying, I'm not going to…abuse my officer authority or anything to get tail." He promises this earnestly. He gets a chuckle out of the crack about Caprica's pyramid team. "You'd think as fancy as their stadium is they could put more cubits toward drafting decent players. But yeah. The Stars are tearing it up. You can never tell about those Sag teams, though. I wonder if we can get feeds of the post-season games out here. Maybe they ship them in with the mail or something." About kin, he nods. "Yeah, brother's a sergeant in the CMC. We're the same age. Twins. So we never really spent much time apart until I left for the Academy and he enlisted."

"What you and the kid do on your own is your own thing." Augie shrugs, seeming not to really care either way. "From what I've heard, Comm is trying to cook up something, but with all the hush hush around us, I figure we'll get it in the same way we usually do. Two months later, and packed with championship crap that will spoil it for us anyway. Thought maybe we'd try to have a little get together this year to watch the game. Few snacks, or go planet side, have a few drinks. Ya know, nothing to crazy."

Phin finally stops protesting about what sort of tail he does and doesn't chase. Talking about Pyramid is more appealing. "Yeah, that'd be cool. Maybe they could set something up in that bar on the surface that a bunch of people could watch. But who knows. Everything is hush-hush around here. Communications is the least of it." Not that he sounds like he minds. If anything, it seems kind of exciting.

"Well, if we need a morale officer, it sure as Zeus isn't me." Augie chuckles. "It's really frakking annoying sometimes, but it seems we're here for the next eighteen months. I made sure to stock up well on the smokes and the guitar strings. But I feel sorry for the folks that had to stock up on their porn poon." He really does not sound that sorry for them. "But I've served under the Cap long enough to know he's good folk. Most are. We're all in the slag together, better to make the most of it. Or some philosphical crap like that."

Phin lets out another "Heh" sort of laugh when Augie mentions those who stocked up on porn. He doesn't comment. "It seems like a decent assignment, really. Pay's awesome, and if your biggest complaint is that it's boring sometimes, that doesn't seem so bad. Our Air officers are talking about doing more training, and it seems like the perfect place for drills and stuff. Were you here for the last eighteen months? I just came aboard when the ship was docked at anchorage, with the rest of the fresh crew."

"I've been with Orion since 97, before here, I was on the Examplia, Valkyrie, and at Klemens base." Augie comments. He shrugs. "Don't feel like going anywhere else, so I stick around. Know the ship pretty well. Need to since I'm damage control. This your first duty station?"

"Yep." Phin is brand spanking new. "I did my flight training on Picon, but that was just for qualifications. This is my first proper posting since I got my commission." He lets out a low whistle, at the length of time Augie's spent with the battlestar. "I didn't think anybody stuck around the same post that long. Though I guess when you're getting double hazard pay like this, there's no reason to transfer."

"Second time around. I ain't doin it fer the money though." Augie shrugs. "Just doin it cause I can." he chuckles a little. "There's only a few folks that have been here as long as I have. And I'm gonna try to outlast them. And when retirement comes, it can bite itself in the arse, too. What about you? Got some long term plan set up for when this is done?"

"Not really," Phin has to admit. "I put in for the assignment to serve with my brother. For awhile I figured it actually would be guard duty over some mining ships. But it's a good gig for eighteen months. I figure I'll save my money and see what's out there at the end of it. I'm not really eager to head anywhere else. This will look interesting on my service record, I guess, but I'm not sure how much of it's going to be unclassified anytime soon."

"Ah, an up and comer. Good to have initative." Augie nods his head, considering for a moment. "But if you're considering this life - don't ever get serious with a girl. Ain't nothing but heartbreak, alimony, and child support on that path. Sometimes, all three. I don't mind the comfort of a woman now and again myself, but I sure as Hades know not to get married. There's too much of that shitstorm going on around here as of late."

Phin shakes his head. "Not planning on it, sir. I had a…thing when I was going to the Academy on Leonis. Turned out to be a waste of time for both of us, though. I can deal with being on my own for awhile." He might sound a little regretful. Just might. Though he tries not to show it. "You been married, sir? Or is that just from…observational experience?"

"Married?" Augustus actually laughs at this idea. "Hades no. Ain't a girl about that wants to be saddled with me. I'm just too damned pretty for them." Reaching up, he rubs the shadow of a beard on his chin. "Just seen it too many times. Especially on these long deployments. Boys and girls meet up for the first time on ship, think it's meant to be, like they're on a pleasure cruise, hook up, marry and three months later, they're having a bitch fest down on the deck cause she looked at some other boy sideways, or he had a cryptic message in his phone. Marriage? Not for me, kid. I'll have my fun, but I don't need the baggage."

Aios arrives from the Recreation Hall.

"Yeah. I heard some guy got into some domestic drama with some chick on the Obs Deck today," Phin says. "Not for me. I mean, yeah, it's a long deployment but…yeah. That's kind of nice about it, I guess. Most people are only going to be here for eighteen months and everybody knows it. No reason to pretend it has to be super-deep if you do…whatever." Phin and Augie are sitting in chairs near one of the monitors in the Rec Room, killing some time. On their downtime. There are semi-current reruns of a sports talkshow playing on the one they're watching, and various other downtime activities going on around them.

Finally, Augie returns the well-worn guitar to its case. "The guitar is a good distraction. Should find a hobby while you're on board. Take up billiards or some crap like that. What do you do for a hobby?" Reaching into his pocket, Augustus procurs another cigar, chewing off the tip and spitting it into the can next to him before he lights it up. Once done, he nods. "Yeah. That kinda drama gets you laughed at most of the time."


The door's handle spins and with a loud noise is wrenched open. Stepping through the door in his blue duty uniformed unbuttoned, signifying that he's off-duty and hasn't been able to change yet, is Daniel "Talkshow" Aios. Rumored on the Battlestar to be a rather politically minded novelist, he is apparently not the slightest bit happy with being awake and in moving order right now. The frown upon his lips is something of legend, as is his need for tea…which he makes a bee-line for.

"Aside from porn?" Phin jokes. Shrug. "I like to swim, and there's a pool. Seem to be enough people around for a decent pick-up game of Pyramid. And I brought a bunch of non-porno books. I was thinking of seeing if they had anything around here that could double as a glider. Or maybe parts for one. Like, a civilian one. I used to go paragliding on Scorpia when I was living in Celeste, and they've got mountains here that might be okay for it." He drinks on the cup of coffee he's working through, looking up when Aios crunks into the room. "Uh. Evening, sir."

"Sounds like some good ideas. I always thought they should put some type of climbing wall in one of the deck areas, just for a dual purpose." Augie shrugs absently as Aios comes through the door, and the LT's lips tighten. "You look like you got slapped by Aphrodite's tits." he comments to the newcomer.

Talkshow looks up from the pot of hot water as he pours it into his mug and settles his bitter, surly eyes on Dolly and Augie. He greets the two of them with a rather stoic if not blank look that ends in a slow nod. Eyebrow twitching, he turns back to his work at hand. "Dolly, Leftenant Garrido. Good afternoon." He replies to the two of them, his voice accented in a way that makes him sound far more suited for life in a dusty library than inside of a Viper's cockpit. "The day has reached its quota for interesting. What of the two of you? Are you both well? Getting the most recent pyramid scores, are we?"

Lennox arrives from the Recreation Hall.

Fairly standard evening in the Rec Room. People play Triad or just read or talk in small groups. Phin and Augie are currently seated near one of the monitors, which is playing a sports talkshow that's as new as the feeds from their last stop in port. Aios has just entered. "Oh. Talkshow. Hey." Phin might sound a little, just a little, abashed. But, if he was talking about the older pilot's domestic drama just moments ago, he at least manages not to make anymore comments once he spots the man. "Kind of recent. Most of it's just stuff from when we were over Virgon. The lieutenant and I were just talking about how the Silverstars are totally going all the way this year, though." He 'toasts' with his mug, which bears the logo of said Pyramid team. "They owned the C-Bucs in their last game. I mean, not that that's hard. But."

Iphigenia arrives from the Recreation Hall.

"Yeah, we are El-Tee. Pull up a chair and join in. You have any interest in Pyramid?" Augie asks as he takes a draw off of his cigar, and expels the smoke slowly. "Like I said, my grannie's bridge team could whip up on the C-Bucs." he chuckles again, glancing up at Aios, and taking it in. "Shitty day, huh? Wanna comminserate, or just ignore it until it rips out of your guts and makes you all mopey and crap."

Lennox passes through the hatch shoving a truly ungodly sized handful of gummi bear candies into her mouth. She has a little bounce in her step, as only the youthful and ever exuberant can. She keeps her sunshine and happiness mostly on the inside through, trap engaged as it is in gnawing the bodies of innocent bears. She's only about halfway into the room when she hears a blasphemous utterance regarding the Buccaneers, and almost chokes on her gummi food to say, "Go Bucks!" It's a bellow, but there's also chewy candy rainbow shrapnel.

Daniel adjusts the unbuttoned officer's duty uniform and leans down to stir the sugar into his tea. One ear tilted towards them, he bobs his head softly as Phin goes into his explained interest in pyramid. However, when Augie speaks up and Talkshow is suddenly made aware that the rumor of his breakup has spread about the ship, he sighs a little curse under his breath. "Bloody hell." The spoon crinkles against the ceramics and disappears into the mug, lost beneath the swirling tea. Now he'll have to drink until he can grab the spoon safely. Such is life.

"I've been to a game or two, but mostly college games and C-buck games." Aios' smile is brief as he salutes Lennox with his mug on his way to stand near Augie and Phin's table. "But since you asked, Mister Garrido, I think I'd rather, as you said, ignore it until it rips out of my guts and makes me all mopey and crap." He smiles, taking a sip from the mug. "Lennox? Save me from these two heathens, would you please? Do something entertaining to make them stop asking me questions?"

Iphigenia steps inside to Lennox's yell, and blinks in bemusement before chuckling faintly and heading to the snack bar. Everyone gets a faint but well meant smile, though the one directed at Talkshow is tinged with worry.

Phin does not ask about Aios' day. Though he does do his best to look more or less sympathetic. "So…uh…who do you like in the championships this year, Talkshow?" is his unsubtle attempt to keep the subject on sports. Lennox helps. He turns around in his chair, chuckling at her bellow. "Seriously, Lola? I mean, I know you're a Caprican girl and all, but come on. There's no shame in just admitting the Scorpian teams are better. Your stadium's still totally bling." His grin crooks, though it moderates into a more polite expression when he offers a smile and nod to the chaplain.

Lola (Lennox) coughs, and almost inhales a beary part on her intake of breath. That spawns a couple of coughs and a hand smacked over her mouth to keep more of the bits from escaping. Lola reaches down, eyes watering as she tries to suppress coughs, strands of blonde hair falling into her eyes. "Scorpian teams couldn't be better with a ref in their pocket and a ten point start." The little blonde fires that off without batting an eyelast, between coughs.

Lola swipes a hand over her bare arm, rainbow sugar boogers dotting her skin like the ruined dreams of fairy children. She swipes again, but really only manages to redeposit translucent gummi bits to other portions of her person. A tiny green bit clings to a lock of over-long bangs in her eyes. She manages to swallow down the majority of her candies, and thusly turns her gaze to Aios at the plea. Lola dutifully clears her throat and wipes at still-watering eyes to call out, "What are they asking you questions about?"

Be it a trick of the light or some left-over sixth sense, Daniel's ears perk and he turns to see Iphigenia looking towards him. His eyes fall to her cheeks and the expression on her lips, and with his continued act of unaffected stoicism, he salutes her with his mug and mouths the word bling towards her. She's given a nod before he turns to set his tea down and fish a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

"Don't ask them why they are asking me questions, Convict, at least do not please. There are rewards in it for you." Please. Daniel is always good at emphasizing the need to be polite in these manners. His voice fades off while he claps his lighter open and lights the tip of the cigarette that is trapped between his lips. "But in answer to your question, Dolly? I believe I read something about the Buccaneers training in high altitude, allegedly that it will give them an edge this year. I guess we'll…" CLAP, the lighter clacks shut, scowling. "…find out when we get home, won't we?"

Iphigenia's mouth tightens, but it's mainly to keep from smiling mirthfully. And then Phin is getting proper, and there's the faintest of sighs and resolute sets to her shoulders as she turns her attention to the food options.

"I didn't ask anything about anything, sir," Phin says to Aios quickly. Totally. Nothing. "Except…oh. High altitude? Well…that's something they haven't tried." He tries, valiantly, not to laugh at Lennox's candy inhalation. He doesn't succeed, but he tries. "Hey, the Stars kicked ass in the post last year. Would've gone all the way if Vester hadn't blown his knee out on Sag. Now that he's healthy again…nothing but wins. But, yeah. Not like we're going to get games out here. Unless they have them sent in on tape with the mail or something. You think Command would go for something like that?" He looks down at Aios, as if the man might know. Well, he has been here longer.

"Anders'll stop mooning over the blondes in the stands, maybe." Lola mutters, in response to the high altitude training. She keeps that comment under her breath. To Aios, she says, "Oh. Right." There's a pause where she's looking at him, but her mouth is closed. Closed. Maybe she's heard that particular scuttlebutt, and it's just now caught up with her brain. "Pretty sure his knee isn't all Vester blew on Sag." That's muttered too, but since nothing like that ever comes out of Lola's mouth (at least it hasn't in the couple of weeks she's been here), that's probably not what she really just said. "Games're good for morale. All you gotta do is spin it right."

The little blonde sidles up to the ginger pilot. Now that she's also stopped watering at the eyes, she looks more or less normal. Nevermind the occasional little red or green bit stuck to her arm here and there. It's just gummi. She pulls a tiny spiral notebook out of her pocket, clicks a pen, and scribbles in loopy, bold thick lines a short note. She rips it off, folds it crisply, and holds it out to Aios, clipped under the pen's arm. "How's things, Dolly?" The grin is wide. Yeah, somehow she heard about that callsign, too.

"Of course, no, Dolly I apologize, you're very right about that, and for that I thank you." Talkshow replies, voice lowering from a bitter tone to one of mild sympathy for the man's discomfort. After a final glance to the Chaplain's shoulderblades, he turns to lean against a nearby countertop and take another sip from his mug of tea. He leans his head back and peers down into the mug. Cigarette in lip, he pinches his fingers down beneath the rim of the mug to pluck out the small spoon, which is promptly extracted and set down onto a nearby napkin. "At the very least, lad, I'd suggest sending the request up to the mains. It might have a bit more weig—yes, exactly as Convict says. A few silvered words have burned and granted exaltation to a number of empires."

Suspicious at first, Talkshow takes the small note from Lennox and turns it over in his hands. His eyes narrow and he does his best to maintain his ever-present scowl, but a soft chuckle escapes his lips. It nearly kills him to do it. "Oh Convict…" Collecting the cigarette after a quick drag, he swings the pen into his fingers and starts writing something elaborate down on the piece of paper. He exhales the cloud of smoke to the side. He clacks the pen closed, taps Lennox on the shoulder, and hands her the note-time package back.

Bennett arrives from the Recreation Hall.

Iphigenia just turns her head and looks at Aios, her expression a wry smile as if to say, you see? with a salute of her mug. She seems content to stay listening for the moment, plucking up some pretzels but not really eating them.

Phin averts his gaze from the note-passing between Aios and Lennox. He won't even try to peak. "Might be worth asking Major Duke about, if he has the time to deal with little shit like that. I don't know how much they've dumped on him with the CAG and Major Wisdom off. You think that was weird?" The question is mostly to Aios. Not that whatever weirdness in command he might wonder about keeps him from missing the use of his callsign. He lets out a low "Heh." "I feel kind of depressed about having to murder Peacock for calling me that over an open comm. Other than that? Just peachy, Convict." He seems to get some amusement out of hers, as well. Though seriously, he shrugs. "I could've done worse, I guess. It's just a play on my name, really. Dol-Phin. Makes sense." If he keeps saying this, eventually someone will believe it.

Lola has the coffee pot in one hand by the time Aios taps her shoulder. She reaches up to take the pen and the little bit of paper without looking. A one handed pour into a mug follows, and she doesn't even slosh it. Score. She clunks the pot home and reaches for the sugar or sugar substitute. A lengthy pour commences while she wiggles the little paper bit free of the pen, and pockets one before reading the other. Her sugar pour goes a little wide when she looks away from the cup, but only spills a tiny bit on the counter before she corrects. She shoves the note into her pocket, though anyone standing nearby may note that the top line reads DO YOU NEED A HUG? Y (X) N (_). Some scrawl is written underneath, but it's shoved away too soon to read through.

Lola finally catches sight of Iphigenia as she turns from the counter, "Sister!" Cheerful, respectful. She seems genuinely glad to have spotted the priestess. And she shoots a glance to Phin. "Dude, it's totally weird. I mean, not Bumper. He's ok. But the other thing seems… kinda…" She trails off. Being an Ensign, she really doesn't know if it's weird or not. It just seems so. The blonde considers Phin's explanation of the callsign. She takes her mug of coffee, swipes her spilled sugar off the counter and into it, then brings it to her lips to taste, gaze still on Phin. Could be she maybe doesn't believe him — Blargh. Choking. On. Coffee. "Who made this?" That's asked in the same tone as someone might accuse a beastly person of kicking an innocent puppy. A cross-eyed one. With a notched ear.

Bennett strolls into the rec room deep in conversation with another officer. A pilot, judging by the brass wings pinned to his collar. The captain's in her sweats, and has barely crossed the threshold of the rec room before she's tapping a cigarette out of her pack. With a few final, murmured words, the Louie accompanying her claps her on the shoulder and veers back out into the hall— and Bennett heads for one of the couches. A few familiar faces are noted on her way through, and her lips sketch a smile in polite greeting.

Iphigenia smiles then, brought a little out of her pretzel encrusted shell. "Hello, Lola. I like your uh…makeup." Referring to the gummi bears with an amused glint in her eye. Bennett likewise gets a nod, before she notes to Convict again, "Probably the last person who emptied it."

"Don't ask me, Convict, I'm still trying to comprehend why the lot of you choose that over a nice cup of tea. Not to be contrarian, mind you. Captain" Talkshow replies after his most recent sip, accentuating the end with a greeting to the incoming pilot. The mug is set down and his hands rest behind him on the counter, though one bends to the side so that his cigarette is far from his nice duty-blues. Again, he sighs a small cloud of cigarette smoke towards the wall while he stares off, dueling a vast array of thoughts all at the same time.

Nudghing himself off an intellectual fence, he pries his eyes away from one particularly bland spot on the wall and looks over to his friend, Iphigenia. Desperately wanting to brood, another soft laugh escapes his lips. "I find it dreadful that the lot of you know about this, and yet your information network hasn't provided you all with the answers as to why Bumper is CAG now. I mean, really, was news of it sounded over the vox?" He asks them, rolling his eyes in mock hatred.

"I think it might be from yesterday," Phin says. Not that this stops him from continuing to drink it. Lennox's gaze is returned with a '/What?/' sort of look. Yeah, his story about his new callsign really isn't believable at all. A "Hey, Captain" is offered to Bennet, though his attention is still mostly on Aois. He sits up in his chair to follow the other man's movements, shrugging. "Bumper talked to us about it a little, but I didn't ask too many questions. He said some high-up brass called the CAG and the old D-CAG in for questioning about Reese. That weird ship we blew up out on the Armistice Line."

From the look on Bennett's face, and the slight uptick of one brow, Bumper being made CAG is news to her, too. She sinks into the couch she's chosen, which gives her a good vantage point of the room without being in the midst of all the comings and goings. Flick, flick, her clove is lit, and it's a contest to see whether she or Aios can contribute more smog to the room. "Is everything all right, Talkshow?" she enquires of the viper jock, perhaps catching the tone in his voice; hers is tinged with concern. Half an ear's kept on the conversation, and her gaze ticks to Phin when he speaks of the Reese.

"What?" Makeup? Lola seems mystified for a moment, as nothing about her usual light gold shimmer has changed. She almost reaches up to touch her face before she becomes aware, once again, of the bitty gummi bits still flecking her skin. "Aw, man. Thanks, sorry." All that's sort of one word, and a very light tinge of pink traces over the tips of her ears. Ahem.

Ens. Lennox leans over and slides an arm around Aios' waist, smashing her side against his for a one armed hug, no less no less rib-cracking for its halfsie-ness. She's a strong little person. There's also some surreptitiously wiped off gummi bits along the way. Those duty blues are wooly and abrasive enough to catch candy shrapnel, yo. "Somebody told somebody he was asking pilots in for meetings or something. I dunno, I had mashed potatoes, so my brain was pretty focused at the time." She cranes her neck, still strong-arming the hug, and peers toward the called out Captain. Oh, Bennett! She puts her coffee down on the counter and waves. The hug increases in pressure as Butch asks after Talkshow's state of being. Heh heh. Poor guy.

"Everything is manageable, aye Butch, thank you for asking." Talkshow replies to Bennett, eyebrows aloft while he speaks. Leaving the cigarette to dangle from his lip, he rolls his shoulders back so that the duty jacket slides down his arms and off to the side. Turning at the wrong angle as he twists to work the jacket, some of the smoke from his cigarette gets into his eye, immediately watering it. Like he's dropping an old diaper into a garbage bin, he holds the jacket out to the side, plucks the cigarette from his lip, and promptly rubs his eye into the inside of his elbow. It's this exact time that Lola slips in and gets her bear hug on.

Letting out a soft grunt, not expecting the hug to come in while he was blind, he returns it by slipping an arm around Convict and giving her a soft squeeze against his side. She puts on more pressure and the poor man starts to look as if his eyes are about to pop out, resulting in another laugh and a few pat-pats to the woman's shoulder. "Convict, you're about to become a murderer, love."

Iphigenia can't help it, the antics make her laugh. "No, no. It's a good look. But do you have any that you're not using to create a new fashion trend? If you don't mind sharing." She looks over at Talkshow. "Able to breath?" she asks of him.

"Well…I know I can exhale." Talkshow rasps out to Iphigenia, squeezing Lennox back with one arm held high to keep the cigarette away from the smaller blonde's face.

Bennett sort of squints at Lennox as she throws her arm around Aios and smooshes him into a hug. All the while, waving at the captain. Kids, really. So weird. "Oh, sure, just making.. sure," she answers the pilot on the receiving end of the squeeze-fest, mouth crooking into a warm, if puzzled smile. Slouching down in her couch slightly, she crosses one leg over the other and bobs her combat booted foot lightly to a tune some marine is playing nearby on his radio.

Phin laughs. Perhaps at the idea of the little blonde cutting off Aios air supply. "I don't think you're going to die tonight, sir. So it can't be that bad." Whatever 'it' is. He finishes his coffee with only a slight wince. He's pretty much deadened to the taste of it by now.

"Good evening, Captain?" This is to Bennett, then Lola's grip eases up as the distress signal goes out from Aios. "Sorry! Just squeezin' in some happy. You need another one, you find me." She releases the poor man before his ribs cry for mercy, and swipes up her coffee mug before it has occasion to run away under its own power. That's how strong that coffee is. She doesn't leave Aios to his devices just yet. She nudges him with a pointy little elbow, and looks very pointedly at the cigarette in his hand. "Phin, you get your meeting yet?" Multi-tasking, that's Lola.

Lola belatedly replies to Iphigenia, coffee mug in hand, "Oh, you mean candies?" She jams a hand into the pocket of her fatigues, and crinkles out a half-bag of little gummi bear candies, each a jewel tone of some delicious flavor. They're a soft and all natural fruit version, much tastier than the generics found in various spaceports around the colonies. She holds out the pouch to the priestess. "Watch out for the yellow ones. They kinda taste like whiskey and rust."

It's terribly hard to remain dark and brooding in the presence of jokes, smiles, and bear hugs, which has set aside Talkshow's foul mood with a buffer of positive energy that ensures the dark clouds will not return for a while. It's there, though, somewhere at the corner of his eyes, that unspoken look on his face that reads as all I wanted to do was get some tea and retire to my bunk and read angry literature but you bastards intercepted me. Truth be told, he'll likely finish the evening that way, but for now…he has them.

Taking one more drag from the cigarette, Talkshow gingerly transfers it from his lip to be held out before Lennox so that she can take it from him. "Whiskey and rust? Sounds like what I imagine my father's library tastes like." Talkshow sides and then lets out a sigh. Balancing one arm over Lola's shoulder, he scans their faces, each one at a time, until he finally calls it for what it is. "You're all very kind people and I'm lucky to have you. Thank you." He twists in Lola's arms, reaching for his mug of tea. "Speaking of lucky and good friends. Leftenant Arden, I would like to enlist in aid of building this temple on the planet's surface. I'd also like to put together a document of journal entries and reflections by the people involved, perhaps combine them into an anthology. Would I be welcome?"

Iphigenia looks deeply gratified at the sight of the bag. "Oh, thank you." she says with anticiation, and reaches into the bag to pull out a couple of gummis. One she pops into her mouth straight away, a light of sheer glee in her eye and she chews and chews. She stops chewing as her eyes pop wide open, and swallows with effort before speaking. "I would be especially pleased, thank you, Talkshow."

"Good evening, Ms. Lennox," returns the raptor driver with a grin, and a puff on her clove. It's much sweeter smelling than a regular cigarette, with a hint of spicy. "Well," she continues to Aios, clearly not one to back down on the spurious word of a viper jock, "If you want to talk.." Blue eyes alight upon him briefly in the midst of a full body lean to ash out her smoke in an empty cup nearby. And then mention of a temple, of all things, distracts her. "Goodness, sister. A temple?" This has clearly piqued her interest, too.

"With Bumper?" Phin replies to Lennox. "Not yet. I figure it'll be pretty standard. I was on Picon doing the first part of my training when he was still a flight instructor there, so he knows I'm not a total frak-up. Just a partial one." He grins. He doesn't ask any questions of his own about the temple, but he does tilt his head at the chaplain to listen to her response.

Lola puts her coffee down after another exploratory sip. Blargh. Yep. Still nasty. She puts it down, waggles her fingers, then reaches up to take the offered cigarette. Claimed. She shoves the smoke in her mouth, pat-pat's Aios behind lightly with that hand. "Lookit that light in her eyes. You just made somebody else happy. Proud of you, sir." Lola smiles, and then scuttles off toward Bennett's seating area, nudging Iphigenia as she goes, by way of invitation to come and sit too. "Yeah," she says to Phin, nodding toward the seats to invite him as well. "I'll help if I can!" This re: temple. And then she resumes addressing Phin, which may be a bit confusing. "It's good this one's not preoccupied with the in and outs of your personal footlocker," the blonde replies. "Happy times, yeah?" She throws herself down onto a couch, loose limbed and sprawly, and tosses her bag of gummis to the coffee table for folks to help themselves. The coffee is left to rest on the ledge of the counter yonder, abandoned for the moment.

Not quite expecting to be patted on the ass, Talkshow's eyes lid almost sleepily as Convict completes her circuit of bear hugging him, stealing his cigarette, and then smacking him on the ass. Left rather exhausted by it, his ears turn an awkward shade of red as he buries his face into his mug of tea for another sip. "Dolly." Talkshow smiles, eyes travelling from Iphigenia's to Phin's, maintaining eye contact as a constant. He wouldn't communicate well otherwise. "Leftenant Arden and I have been having conversations about our role in history concerning this thirteenth colony. You've an honest voice. At the least, if you're interested, perhaps you'd one day write your thoughts on your mission here and let me post them as well?" He then looks to Bennett, giving her a world of body language in a quiet nod of his head that takes a little getting used to. She's heard too? Of course, and if he can bring himself to do it, he may just take her up on the offer.

"Nothing ornate. Or even large. Just a small permanent structure with an altar that's adequately protected from the elements." she explains. "A place for the altars and idols." The interest makes her smile. "Unfortunately building materials are strictly apportioned, so we'll likely have to construct it from wood from Piraeus. Which is fitting, if you think about it."

There's plenty of room at Bennett's couch, though she does move the empty cup she'd been using as an ashtry, as Lennox scuttles over. Her gaze does not leave the chaplain, save to acknowledge what Aios has said with a nod and a smile. "Sister, I think that's a fantastic idea. Perhaps you might consider devoting the temple to Artemis." The goddess of the hunt and the wilderness, of course. And Piraeus is little else besides wilderness, saving their fledgling encampment.

Phin actually gets himself another cup of awful coffee. Then he takes Lennox up on her invitation, plopping down on the couch. A couple of candies are picked up and, experimentally, dropped into his coffee cup. They get kind of melty. Whether this will make the stuff better or worse is not immediately clear. "I do?" That to Aios, about his honest voice. Shrug. "I don't know that I have much useful to say about it, but if there's a collection it'd be cool to add to it. Maybe get everyone in the crew who wants to to contribute something. It'd be interesting. Assuming anything about this gets declassified like…ever."

"I intend, Dolly. I intend." Talkshow murmurs, trading that silver lining through the clouds with the sudden emergence of purpose. He reaches down to the pockets of his blue duty uniform pants to retrieve another cigarette, which he promptly lights with an old, brass lighter stamped with the seal of Caprica University. "Every last word on Piraeus, the good, the bad, the terrible, right on down to the most despicable stories of beer games and sing-alongs at Checkpoint Charlie's. They won't likely remember our names, but they'll love to feel what we felt through our own words." CLAP, the lighter clicks shut again, and as he raises his head he lofts his eyebrows towards Chaplain Arden. Despite his issues, the man currently has purpose, and it's enough to drive him forward. "And since we're peacetime, a little blood and sweat to build a temple will keep us from getting fat, aye Leftenant?"

Hook arrives from the Recreation Hall.

Bennett wrinkles her nose slightly at the sight of Phin dropping gummi bears into his coffee. Plop, plop, plop. That stuff's strong enough to strip a dead body, never mind gelatinous snacks. "You know, that's a good idea," she tells him after a few moments spent trying to get back on the conversation train. That thing with the coffee and the candy is distracting. The captain's seated at a couch with Lennox and Phin, smoking one of her clove cigarettes.

"It is a good idea." Gen agrees, "Temple dedications do have some rituals that need to occur prior to their sanctification. Augeries cast, prophecies sought. Artemis is a frontrunner. She makes a good deal of sense.

"If anything needs decorated," Lola chimes in from her boneless sprawl on the end of Bennett's couch, "I can do that. I'm good at beautifying things." She throws an arm along the back of the couch, snuggling up near to whomever sits closest so she can turn slightly, and throw a leg over the couch's arm.

"A damage control briefing. Now they want to show the new guys the ropes." Augustus is in a great mood now after to have to make sure that the new firefighters were settled. There isn't many dedicated to that task, since most everyone has some training in firefighting. As he comes back in, he pauses. "Shit, I step away for a few and a party breaks out." As loveable as a rabid honeybadger, really. Spying what he came for next to the couch, he starts for that well worn and travelled guitar case of his, covered in colorful patches from Examplia, Valkyrie, Orion and other assignments. "Thanks for keeping an eye on my case, Dolly." he starts to say, not quite yet noticing the woman that Phin is tormenting.

"Ares is probably a popular patron with some of the crew, too," Phin says. "Anyway, I'm not much on decorating, but if you need any help with the manual labor part of it when you're putting it up, I could do something." The offer sounds sincere, despite his non-presence at any temple services on the ship so far. He tries a sip of his gummied coffee. It prompts an "Huh" sound. It's not a clear sign of deliciousness, but he drinks some more of it. Eyes ticking up when Augie reenters. "No worries, sir. And…you can call me Phin. That'd be just fine." He tries not to sound like he minds the callsign. Even if it is spreading quickly.

Through the hatch, comes another from Marine town. Dressed, in his off duty ensemble, Hook cuts just a normal marine figure. There is a pause though as he comes further in, and gauges the atmosphere before he is turning and making on towards the coffee pot. It's always safer getting coffee. Just like it's always sunny in Caprica.

Taking one of the chairs at a table and turning it around, Talkshow goes about the rather unaristocratic motion of straddling it and using the back of the chair as an armrest. Lowering his chin to one of his forarms, he quietly smokes an rubs at the spot where his neck and shoulder meet. "Welcome back, Leftenant Garrido." Always so formal, he has to tilt his head to blow a thin stream of smoke away from everyone. This puts Hook in his field of vision, who receives a polite nod. He starts to stare off again, perhaps finally starting to grow tired despite the efforts of the caffeine in his mug of tea. He quiets, enjoying his cigarette by himself.

Lola watches Phin's gummi-fied coffee testing, eyes heavy-lidded from her couch slouching fugue. She doesn't quite make a face, but it's close. There's a flaring of the nostrils for sure. She glances over as Augie approaches the couch. Make that up. She looks up as Augie approaches the couch. When she speaks, it's a mutter: "Woah. Where are you from?" Six foot four is a lot of person when you're small and also tipped back on a couch. She sucks on a nearly-burned-out cigarette, a long ash dangling precariously from the tip. It doesn't quite fall, but any further movement might end in disaster.

Tormenting is such a strong word. "Ares and Athena," Bennett agrees, touching the smoke to her lips again— and breaking out into a fit of coughing like she inhaled the wrong way. Or maybe it's just the sight of Augustus strolling on in through the hatch, and the patchwork guitar case she knew she'd recognised. "Lieutenant Augustus Garrido," serves as both an introduction of the man to Lola, and a tight-lipped greeting. She tap-taps some ash from her cig into the cup balanced on her lap. The captain's in her sweats tonight and a N A V Y tshirt like half the crew here.

"I suspect there will be a lot of people petitioning particular gods, all having very good reasons." Gen muses, still smiling, and quite heartened by the offers of assistance. "I'd like to see about getting the materials sorted and a structure worked out first, at the very least. You're all so kind to offer."

"Most folks call me Augie fer short, Phin." Augie comments, tipping his hat to Lennox at Bennett's so-nice introduction as he smirks. "You downgraded. Your fault, Benny." Reaching into his side pocket, the large man pulls out a cigar, and rips off the tip of it with his teeth before fishing around for a lighter. "Or rather, Captain. How ya doin', kid?" comes the comment to Lennox, looming over the small girl, jaw cocked and locked as he pats himself down. "Dammit, really. Ya got a light?" he asks Bennett. She may be all nerves around him, but he doesn't seem to be that phased. At the moment.

As he asks, he's already bending down next to her to gather up his guitar case. "Hey, Chaplain." he greets Gen. "I'll drop by later for confessional or whatever." Wait. He goes to services? Augie does that whole temple thing? Hey, a few folks may know that. Granny Garrido raised him right in that department.

Without warning, and with the same sort of body language as a man who'd just spent the afternoon in a dentist's chair, the rather beat-up and tired form of Daniel "Talkshow" Aios rises from the chair and stubs his half-smoked cigarette out. Standing tall, he stretches his arms over his head until a small, thin line of pale skin forms at his belly from beneath his tank top. It's a big stretch, and when he releases it he downs the last of his tea in one large gulp. Seems someone's about to excuse himself quietly.

Hook remains silent, even as the Chaplain is called out. However, the man does peer over his shoulder before he is looking back to his coffee prep. A thing of sugar, and some cream are mixed in with the blend into the grey mug. Steam wafting up from the mug, Hook turns and makes his way over to a free seat, a little away from the rest of the gathered officers. Mug set down, he's back up and off going for a magazine.

Bennett rolls her eyes a little at the nickname 'Benny'. Or maybe it's the 'Captain' she's not impressed with. Either way, she rolls onto one hip and slides her lighter out of the pocket of her sweats. It's a fairly nondescript thing: silver, dented, something bought in a convenience store or pawned off a forgetful crewmate. "Have a good evening, Talkshow," she calls over to the departing pilot, lighter offered up to Augie between two fingers. If he wants it, he's gonna have to come and get it. "Let me know if you need anything, all right?" There could be a chastising tone to her voice, but there isn't. Mother Hen she is not. For now.

Phin is not smoking, and he shows no interest in bumming a cigarette. Mostly he's content to slouch on the couch next to Lennox and gum his coffee. He does offer a, "Later, Talkshow" to departing Aios. So the other man won't go that quietly. "Oh, yeah." A look between the engineer and Bennett. "You guys served together, yeah? I think I heard that on the hangar deck the other day."

There's a long pause between Augie calling Bennett 'Benny' and a chime-in from the blonde Ensign. Maybe Lola's not sure how to take someone addressing Bennett as such. It's always weird when the older kids get familiar and nickname-y. Kinda like the first time you hear a college professor called by their first name. Lola glances from Augie to Bennett and back up to Augie. Crap, that's a big officer. Hey, cigar. "That a Scorpian red?" She's addressing his cigar, upon which her gaze has now fixed. Her smoke is all but at the filter. Ash shakes down from it as she bumps the cig, plucking it free of her lips. She glances down at her tank and swipes a hand halfheartedly over it before dragging a foot up across her body to smash the butt out against her boot. She bends up like a pretzel to do that, but seems no worse for wear as her foot drops heavily to the deck again. Her feet barely touch the ground from her torqued back position on the furniture. Since she doesn't find 'kid' objectionable, she doesn't bother offering up a name or anything. She glances over as Aios stretches, catching the move out of the corner of her eye. A finger-waggle is sent his way, and then one to Hook, too, 'cause she notes him moving around not too far off. He may or may not see it, but she's all greeting-girl anyhow. "Talkies, got some sour gummis, you need the hard stuff later." Traffics in sugar highs, this one. Oh, yeah.

"Of course, Augie." Iphigenia says cheerfully, and eyes the guitar with interest but doesn't say anything. "Talkshow, we'll need to speak soon about your project." she calls after the retreating man, and pops another gummi bear in her mouth.

Taking the proffered lighter, Augie lights up the cigar, and slings the guitar case around his shoulder. "See ya, Aios. Hey, same advice I gave Phin. This is gonna be a long cruise. Let the fire die out, then try to chat her." he shrugs his shoulder as he offers the lighter back to Bennett. "Bennett and I? Yeah, we served on the Examplia together." he leaves it pretty much at that, though he dares to meet Bennett's eyes with his own. "Caught a couple of Stars games on leave, too. And yeah, a Scorpia red. Made sure to stock up on them and the really good Caprica Partagas." he shrugs. "Long cruise, wanted to make sure I was ready for it.

Talkshow's mug is leaned back towards the sink and set down on the washing rack, and then his jacket is swept back up and draped over a shoulder. He strides across the floor over to Convict and leans out to the bag of gummi worms, snagging one of the yellow nasty ones and pops it deftly into his mouth. He's a glutton for punishment. As he turns to leave again, he gives a soft, sideways bump-bump with his closed fist to the outside of Convict's knee. Two steps later, he does the same to the upper bit of Phin's arm. Goodbyes aren't needed when you're signalling them in code. "That, Leftenant Garrido, is very sound advice and I thank you kindly for it, good sir." He adds with a quick glance to Augie with a wave to Bennett and Hook. Lastly, he lowers his gaze to Iphigenia, casting a complicated look in his eyes towards her. It's complicated because they're a little smile at the edge of it that shouldn't be there. "We definitely will, Leftenant Arden. The same goes for you as well. I will drop by your office soon and we will compare notes."

With that said, he turns his back to the room and gives one last arcing wave from behind his back. Silently, from that point forward, he slips into the hallway and disappears into the hallways of the Orion.

Bennett is not afraid of eye contact, and she's never been a shrinking violet. Her bright blues meet Augustus's gaze easily, her hand held out for the lighter's anticipated return once he's attended to his smoke. "Partagas," she echoes softly, a little of the pique evaporating from her tone. "Good choice, Gus." Gus? Apparently. "Well," she adds, clearing her throat, "The Examplia was a long time ago. I wonder where she is now? Probably prettying up a junkyard off Scorpia.." A dimpled smile, part amusement and part fond recollection.

Lola, does get a look and a nod fro Judah, as he sits back down with a magazine. By the looks of it, it seems to be an old sporting equipment catalogue, that someone left behind. But, for mindless viewing, it works. Specially when the TV is being used, or if there is a lot of activity going on. The Padre shifts in his chair, one hand smoothing over his beard, before he is reaching for coffee to have a sip.

Lola's lips quirk into a smile at the confirmation of cigar brand and line. She regards Augie for just a beat more before she says, "Don't suppose you got extras." Yes, she did just meet him and go right for the bummin'. In her peripheral, Aios comes in for the gummi-snaggage from the bag on the table, and she watches him trundle off with a yellow one. The whiskey-rust flavored abominations. Blargh. She doesn't return a fistbump to any portion of the pilot's anatomy, but she does throw him the traditional hand salute for 'hang loose.' She tips over a little further, just shy of coming into contact with Phin's shoulder.

"Was that the advice you gave me?" Phin asks Augie with a slight grin. He tilts his neck to try and follow Lennox's bending while she's putting out her cigarette. "That's…way more creative than using an ashtray." The nod from Hook is sort of in the direction of the couch he occupies, so he looks that way to note the Marine. "Careful of the coffee. It's kind of…bad. I think somebody just left the pot from last night on the burner instead of making a fresh one."

Taking another drag off of his cigar, and exhaling it slowly through his nose, before considering Lennox, and Augie passes the cigar to her. This could be amusing. "Well no, my advice to you Phin is that if you break Kelsey-bird's heart, there are parts of this ship that very few people know about." he teases a little, but there's something in those eyes that is probably scary.

It's a little snug on that couch, with three pilots crammed in cheek by jowl, but Bennett doesn't seem to mind. Besides, Phin is pretty. They sure know how to make 'em in viper land. She finishes off her smoke, plunks it into the cup she'd been using for an ashtray, and climbs to her feet to find a fresh one. And yes, she is keeping half an eye on the young, impressionable, cigar bumming Lola.

Hook glances up as Phin calls over, and there's a brief pause for a moment His own smile given over to the junior officer. "Thanks, Sir." he calls over before raising the mug. "But, I believe, I'm fine. Takes much more than a strong cuppa to do me in." And with that he is taking a long sip, as if all the pilots and Augie needed proof from the bearded fellow.

Iphigenia looks for a moment like she is considering approaching Hook, but then for whatever reason, changes her mind. Another time. "Evening, everyone." she says with an easy smile, and popping the last gummi she'd snagged from Lennox's little baggie, heads out of the rec area.

That from Augie does make Phin blush. "Like I said, sir, you have nothing to worry about. I don't frak around with enlisted. I am not getting reprimanded for chasing the wrong piece of tail." The ensign is very earnest about this. Though an eyeshift at Bennett and Lennox seems to make it occur to him that might not have been the ideal way to phrase that. "Uh. I mean. I very much respect the importance of the regs on fraternization and their relationship to a professional military work environment, Captain, sir."

Lola grins back at Phin as he comments on her boot-smashing methods of putting out her smokes. "I lean over much more, I might fall over." Or she's too dang lazy to move. You know. One of those. Her gaze swings back around as her internal DRADIS pings an incoming cigar hand off. She just barely refrains from spidering her fingers over — nope, there's a little bit of finger waggle as she reaches for the cigar. She takes it from Augie, fingers light, and flips it around to shove into her mouth. A wave of relaxation settles over her body as she puffs the first puff, fragrant smoke billowing in soft little bursts from her lips. She breathes in through her nose, sucking tendrils of smoke in. She lazily tips over and comes shoulder-to-shoulder with Phin. Thusly propped, she enters a cigar fugue. Cigar gripped lightly in her teeth, she breathes out, "Holy crap," around it. "I wanna make out with the whole of Scorpia right now."

Phin might not spot it, what with Bennett's back turned while she snags a fresh mug and fills it with hot water, but she's got such a shit eating grin on her face when he backtracks about frat to her. "That's excellent news, Ensign," she deadpans in return, dropping a teabag into her mug. "I'm sure we all take the regulations very seriously, as fine and upstanding officers of the Colonial Fleet." Smooth as velvet, the captain's soft speech. Eventually she strolls back over to the couch, but instead of squeezing back in with the two junior pilots, rests her butt on the edge of the arm. And watches Lola over her steaming tea. Clearly, this is not her first cigar.

"That's why Ragman asked about your girlie mags," Lola mutters to Phin. Though this is likely meant to be a quiet comment, it's not quite so soft that anyone nearby will miss it. She snorts, a little nimbus of Scorpian smoke puffing up from her lips to linger briefly around her head. At Bennett's comments, she reiterates, "Yep, we Ensigns take regs super serious, right, Phin?" Elbow-nudge.

"Uh. Right. Absolutely," Phin sort of rambles a reply to Bennett. He finally stops himself from reciting anything else he can remember from text book passages on frat rules. Which is probably for the best. Lennox's comment at least gets a laugh out of him, and he turns his head slight to face her. "Yeah. Super serious. But back to what you said before. When you say you want to make out with all of Scorpia…" He considers this. Then grins. "What you're basically saying is the Silverstars are in fact the most awesome Pyramid team in the league and they're obviously going to floor the C-Bucs this year?"

Bennett chuckles, and eases off the couch arm as the conversation turns to something dreadfully foreign to her: pyramid. "Well, my work here is done," she informs the pair, and Augie presumably, if he's still lurking about nearby. "I think I've got some exciting paperwork to get back to. Unless one of you wants to do it for me? No? Okay, then. Good night." She wiggles her fingers at the pilots, and ambles for the hatch with her hot drink.

Lola's eyebrows draw together at the pause in Phin's query, and she's pulled right into that false sense of security until he drops the Silverstars. "Augh!" Frakkin' caught in her own cigar bliss. "Except the pyramid team, bunch of lowdown dirty losers! Not making out with them." She flings herself away from Phin, which is really just a dramatic gesture, since she's seated beside him even so. "Scorpians." Welp, that was the shortest makeout in history. She yanks the cigar from her mouth long enough to say, "I bet you fifty cubits the Bucs wipe the floor with your sissy team before the half." She jams the cigar into her mouth again, and chomps it into place with those pearly white teeth. So declared, she jams her arms crossed. A moment later, she happens to glance down at her watch. "Mother of pearl." She shoves up off of the couch. "Night, Captain!" That's a bit loud. "I'm on late shuttle duty." Her 'annoyance' seems to have faded quite quickly. "Later, Phin. Hey, save me some of those crunchy things they serve for breakfast if I miss it." And she's off. "Your team sucks!" But she charges for the hatch with that last bit there.

"I was just kidding!" Phin calls hastily. After completely killing his chances of any making out. "The Bucs don't totally suck! They have high altitude training now! That sounds awesome?" He sighs, deflating into the rec room couch. "Uh…later."

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