AWD #244: Drinking Time
Drinking Time
Summary: Lleufer heads down to Piraeus for an evening's drinking and runs into Bennett. Others show up to join them at Charlie's.
Date: 07/09/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Nothing off hand.
Lleufer Bennett Brina Knox Warren 
Check Point Charlie's, Sheridan, Piraeus
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.
September 7th, 2005

Occasionally, the wing's assault squadron gets pulled for shuttle duty to the surface. Today is evidently St. Clair's turn— possibly to the chagrin of her passengers, who are accustomed to softer landings. The girl can fly, but nobody's ever accused her of having a good bedside manner, so to speak.

The raptor's just landed a few minutes ago, and most of her payload has disembarked. The captain's at the end of her shift for the day, and is just in the process of handing the reins over to a burly lieutenant. They're commiserating in the front over a warning light that's come on intermittently in the cockpit, voices low over the hum of the still-running engines.

Most, but not all of her payload. One of her passengers is waiting his turn to disembark. Lleufer unships his small carry bag and shoulders it over his good arm. His left is out of the sling now and thanks to modern accelerated healing, he's off morpha and starting to get around all right. Skin that was first and second degree burned only days ago has gone from angry red-pink to brownish patches with peeling. Lleu pulls out his ballistic shades to slip them on, waiting to put his cover on his head once he steps out. He's in off duty digs with his tags hanging out over his tank.

He starts to go for the hatch when he hears a familiar voice that catches his step. Head turned, he backs up a step to glance into the cockpit. "Hey, I heard they have jello wrestling and half price shots at Charlie's tonight."

"Just engage and disengage the cabin locks before you complete pre-flight, Lieutenant, and it should be fine until you get back to Orion," Bennett is telling the other pilot. And then there's a familiar voice addressing her, and she glances over her shoulder with a grin Lleufer's way. "You had me at jello wrestling, Sergeant." Hoisting up her own bag, she bids farewell to her replacement and clambers out the hatch before dropping down in the dirt. "I did not see you back there. Sorry about the landing." Her cheeks colour slightly. It was a little rough. "I hit a bit of a crosswind coming down."

Lleufer looks amused, "Nothing so rough as taking a LALO landing on my arse, Captain. You did fine." He joins her outside of the craft and squints against the sunlight for a moment even with his shades. Ynyr puts his cover on and tugs down the brim, "Don't /really/ know what's going on at Charlie's tonight, but I'm tired of studying. Got my paper submitted, thought I'd take the evening off. You're not heading back up right away?" Honestly, he hadn't noticed who the pilot was and hadn't thought to check until he heard her voice.

Bennett laughs, and slips her own aviators on once they're out of the raptor's shadow, and the early evening sun hits them slantwise. "The offer to take you up for some practice runs is still open, Sergeant," she tells him bemusedly. The zipper on her flight suit is tugged down about halfway, and she peels her gloves off and tucks them into a hip pocket on her flight suit. "Already? That is good to hear. Do you suppose a little celebration is in order? And no, I thought I would spend a few hours down here before I hitch a ride back up. Mission's tomorrow, so there is nothing more I can do for my pilots but pay for their drinks tonight." She smiles wryly.

"I'll take you up on that when I'm a bit more fit for playing rough, Captain." One side of his mouth quirks as they walk together. "No, not already. It's not the final. Won't be through until early October. Have a few things along the way I have to write up." Lleufer gives a nod to the mission part. His mouth thins a little. He's heard rumors and doesn't want to talk about it. Instead he says, "Celebrate, sure. I think I could stand a few drinks after our SABER site success. Think I'm owed a few drinks if I run into certain members from our team."

"And I thought marines were always up for playing rough," Bennett opines, sotto voce, with a little tap of her elbow as they walk. She's grinning, and her amusement is clear even with her eyes shaded. She, too, seems disinclined to speak of the mission though. "So you are really serious about OCS, then. I hope you aren't disappointed, Sergeant."

Lleufer laughs, "I usually am, but I like to be healed up so I can enjoy it and do my best." They move along through Sheridan and when they get to Check Point Charlie's, Lleu grabs the door and opens it for her. Those backwards Aerlions. He'll follow after her, "Of course I'm serious about OCS. Anything I say I'm going to do, I'm not going to do it half assed, Captain. Noth'n less than aiming for top scores." Jarhead. Ynyr stops a step or two inside the door and strips off his cover and then his shades, using his right hand in both cases. He's got a bandage around his left bicep and he's using the arm lightly.

Well, Bennett doesn't seem to mind the chivalry. Of course she's perfectly capable of opening a door on her own, but she allows him to hold it for her, and favours him with a smile as she slips past. "I like a man who takes his work seriously," she murmurs, really for his ears only. Her aviators are slipped off, and she indicates for him to pick a table while she sashays up to the bar to get them something to drink.

Bennett's words coax a smile from him and he watches her sashay. Lleu tucks one arm of his shades into the outside of his arm bandage, conveniently placed for just such a purpose. He rolls his hat up to shove it into a back pocket of his pants before he takes a seat. "I like whiskey. Ask if they have anything besides the locally made stuff." Ynyr doens't really give a Cylon's ass if it costs 20 or 50 times more.

"You Aerilonians and your whiskey," Bennett retorts over her shoulder with a smile. Her conversation with the 'tender is likely lost to the general hubbub of Charlie's on a Saturday night, but when she returns, it's with two drinks expertly balanced in one hand; the other's occupied with her helmet. It seems like a juggling act she's well accustomed to. "I hope scotch will suffice," she murmurs, sliding Lleufer's drink in front of him. Hers looks like a gin and tonic— or whatever passes for tonic water, these days.

That has his attention, "They've got some kind of Scotch?" Lleufer sounds half incredulous, "Hot damn. I hope it's good. Thanks." He'll pick it up and just /smell/ it. Is it nice and peaty? Aye!. Single malt or not, way out here you can't be too picky. He takes a small taste and rolls it around in his mouth to taste it before he swallows it. "That's real good. I hope this isn't the last of it. I want the bottle." He raises his good arm to see if he can get the barkeep's attention. Lleu glances to Bennett, "Remind me to thank you for ask'n if they had any in."

"I have.. known a fair few Aerilonians," Bennett confides with a small smile, easing into the chair opposite Lleufer and stowing her helmet and bag beside her. "I have found that if there is one thing, besides their pyramid team, that they tend to be fanatical about.. it is their scotch." She brings her glass to her lips, blue eyes glittering with amusement at the marine's reaction to her choice of drink for him. "How is the rest of your platoon healing up? Breana, was it? The girl who was covering for you?"

Hell yeah. Lleu savours the Scotch because he doesn't know how much more there might be. A server comes over and Ynyr inquires, finding a few bottles were brought in. Fairly BIG price for'm. Lleufer doesn't care, "I want'm. All of them." The barhelp shakes her head, informs him she can let him buy /one/ bottle, but they are going to share the rest out. Lleu tries to offer more, still nada. So the Sergeant is forced to settle on only one. He pays for it and still tips decently. When she's gone, he says low, "Damned if I won't try to buy or trade for the other bottles somehow. Maybe you can get one for me." Ah, and there's the bottle now. Ynyr gives a thank you for it and knocks back his first glass to pour a second. "I'm off morpha a lot sooner than last time. That's reason alone to celebrate."

Lleufer is seated with Captain Bennett. She's been enjoying a gin and tonic and they only just arrived a few minutes ago. However, one of the Captain's pilots comes by and asks to speak with her about their mission tomorrow. Bennett makes her apologies and heads out. Lleu gives her a nod, "I'll be here a while if you can come back later, Captain."

It started with asking around on the ship where people go for a drink. Several people mentioned Charlie's to Brina who then asked how to get there. Takes awhile but she eventually manages to make it, crutches and all, the MP dressed in her off duty's. She looks tired complete with the half-lidded eyes that have dark circles under them, her hair brushed and put into a haphazard ponytail that does nothing to lend an appearance of being with it. Her attention is drawn about the room as a whole once she's inside, looking to see if she knows anyone here although she doesn't expect there to be.

Sergeant Ynyr is also in his off duty garb, tags laying out over his sleeveless tank. A bandage is wrapped around his left bicep and he's snagged one arm of his ballstic shades into the bandage as if that were the whole reason he was wearing it in the first place. He is now seated alone, sipping Aerlion Scotch and has a full bottle on the table. Probably just cost him a leg to afford it and probably would trade a kidney for another. Pale eyes alight on the gal on crutches - hard to miss her. He raises his good arm as well as his baritone, "O'Connell! Come over'n join me."

Drawn like moths to a flame; Marines to booze. Coop pushes through the door with most of his gear, but the overshirt is stuffed into his radio pack and he heads for Lleufer's table after spotting the guy. "Bullet magnet," he greets easily, nodding to the Sergeant. Then to Brina, "Hobbles. Mind if I grab a drink and join you guys?"

Brina looks up and then down again, conflicted for a moment. She knows she owes the Sergeant a few drinks for letting him get shot like she did but the guilt she feels keeps her still for a good ten or fifteen seconds. Once it passes she's crossing the room, however, and it isn't long before she's joining Lleufer at his table. "Guess this means I can join you, huh?" Knox is greeted as well, the wirelo given a smile. "I'm cool with it if Sarge is. He was here first."

Lleufer is cool enough with it that he reaches a boot under the table to kick out one chair for Knox, then gets himself up off his ass to pull out a chair for Brina, "Sit down, Hobbles. Both of you are welcome. Only, I'm not sharing this bottle of Scotch. If either of you can talk the barkeep into selling you another one, I'll owe you a nice favour." Or, well, Brina. Lleu glances at Knox, not entirely sure he should have made that offer. But, he helps Brina with her crutches if she'll let him, then retake his own seat.

Coop laughs, waving it off. "Scotch ain't my thing, man. A nice whiskey is always good but that's just a little too high class for my broke ass." He heads off to the bar and returns with a couple beers, one for him and another for Brina. "First one's on me, Lance." He sits heavily into the chair by his radio and deflates. "Hows recovery going for you guys? At least you don't look like shit run over twice anymore, man," he offers to the other guy.

The help is accepted although with a bit of a disgruntled grunt from Brie who isn't used to having to rely on others to do simple things like sitting. "I'll try to get you a bottle Sarge." Now comfortable, she gives a moment to consider Knox, her expression thoughtful. "Thanks. I'll be a cheap date, I think. Can't really drink right now so think I'll just have an ice water. As for the recovery? It's going as well as to be expected. Doc's getting me in the pool for some hydrotherapy."

Ynyr's face and neck have patches of burned skin that is already turning brownish, peeling around the edges. The cut across his right cheek has dried up and isn't bad. Otherwise he looks fine, but for the bandage around his left bicep. Lleu tastes his scotch, then chuckles, "I think I just spent all my pay credits I had on this bottle. I'd trade plenty of fresh game meat for a second if somebody's wanting steaks. Soon as I have more leave than a few hours." He gives a nod to what Brina says to Knox. "Glad to be alive 'n we succeeded in our mission."

"Hey, more beer for me then. You've got until I finish mine to alter that decision," Coop tells her. He lifts the glass at the mention of therapy. "May you encounter planning of good looking shirtless men in your ventures into the pool." Its a cheeky cheers, delivered with a grin before he sips. Looking back to Lleu he nods. "Take a few days. Go hunting. This planet is full of wild game and some of its pretty tasty. My team Captain on Virgon used to go out every fall and hunt deer. His daughter was vegetarian so we always ate plenty of it. He'd grill us up these venison steak that he'd season with crushed black pepper and a little bit of onion powder? Made a damned good rub. I still have dreams about that sort of bliss."

Brina snorts in amusement at that, her head shaking over that toast. "Yeah. And may you have… uh. Something equally pleasing to gaze up. Or something." Not the best but hopefully the intention will make how lame she sounded. Her forearms are rested upon the edge of the table, making sitting a bit more comfortable on her still-healing abdomen by doing so. "Never been hunting, myself. It sounds like it'd be very hard. And deer, huh? That sounds good. Maybe some of us could go out and try to bag a deer and go and grill it or something."

Knox's memory of hunting seems a little odd coming from the skinjob but Lleufer smiles, "Yeah, I've hunted about every chance I get down here. There's a tiny little deer-like critter down here called a dickie. Shy, kind of hard to find until you learn their ways, but man, absolutely the best thing I ever ate. Don't even need to season it. Has it's own faintly salty spiciness to the meat." Ynyr shakes his head, "Much as I'd like that, I'm not much up for hunting until my arm's stronger. I enjoy the rough ground." Lleu knocks back his second scotch and stoppers the bottle to save and savour it slowly. He waves the server over, "Bring us a bottle of the local whiskey." That crap he can knock back and feel the burn but not something you savour the taste. But hey, it's cheap.

Bennett arrives from the Living Complex.

Coop laughs to Brina. "I've got a woman I love. One is enough. I have no idea how in the hell people manage more than one at a time. Or why." He sips his beer, listening to her and nodding before looking to Lleu. "I haven't had that. Sounds damned good. I believe I may need to see about changing that. My ol Captain would probably have frakkin kittens to get a chance to hunt here. Its like his wet dream wild game preserve. I once watched this man call in a cluster strike on a herd of deer on Saggie because he got screwed with those godsawful soy protein meat-esqe MREs while we were in the field for a week. We cooked 'em up and invited out the locals and fed this local village for a couple days. They were pleased as hell." He tilts his beer. "Public Relations: He was doing it right."

Now it's Lleu's turn to laugh. "Bet it was hell to clean out the bone fragments. I'll stick to cleaner, more sporting methods, thanks." It was probably something to see though. When the cheap stuff comes out, Ynyr pours himself a glass of it and knocks that back, grimacing. Man wants to get a nice buzz on. His arm won't ache and he can chill the frak out for a while. Lleu's mouth twists at Brina, "I like look'n. Rare jarhead who'll stop there, unless they found the one and only." He nods to Knox.

"You mean there's a man out here that doesn't live by that bullshit that it doesn't hurt to look?" Brina grins lopsidedly at that. "Either you're a saint or you're a fraking liar. I'll have to find out which." Lleu's bottle is eyed as he starts to drink more heartily, her expression bordering on longing. Whatever longing she might feel is quelled quickly, however, when he grimaces. "Looks like you got the good stuff," she deadpans.

And as for the bit about Lleu looking? She merely grins and Brie even goes as far as to cock a brow at him.

Bennett filters back in from whereever she'd been summoned by her fellow pilot, wending her way through the crowd that's gathered with ease. She plunks herself down somewhere in the midst of Brina's comment about 'that bullshit', and offers a sparkling smile the woman's way. "My apologies," she murmurs, ostensibly to Lleufer. "Breana, right?" She extends a slim hand to the blonde. Clearly just come off flight rotation, probably shuttle duty, the pilot is still in her flight suit — unzipped to her clavicle — while her gloves are tucked into a back pocket. Her hair is windblown and there's a fading ring around her throat where the helmet's hardseal likely digs into her skin. "And forgive me for crashing the conversation, but I see nothing at all wrong with looking."

"Hey, I never said it didn't hurt to look. I'm just sayin that eyes are attracted to…'aspects of the anatomy'!" Coop tries to explain diplomatically. "But intent is the big kicker. You can admire a work of art without wanting to steal it. Just don't be thinking about that piece of art when you already have one." Coop tilts his glass to Lleu in salute with his final remark. "But nah. We were parked a couple miles off on a hillside. Or Gunny lased 'em up for the pilot to spot. We told him it was just enemy in the open." Coop shrugs. "Bewm. But hey, if you want sporting, give the deer a rifle." With the Captain plunking down, Coop nods. "I shall keep your officerly example in mind, good Captain," he grins.

Lleufer has had plenty with two small glasses of Scotch (at least double shots), and now a glass of the local whiskey, to get him well started on his buzz. He's poured himself a fourth but now he'll slow his ass down a bit. Maybe. "Welcome back, Captain." Ynyr holds his glass out to point a finger at Knox, "Also, try the fish here. Or whatever they are. Touch of sour citrus, butter'n salt, damned good eating. Especially the ones from cold rushing water. Isn't that so, Captain?" He looks to Bennett.

The Captain's arrival has Brina darting a quick look at her, the way the pilot knows her name when she doesn't recall her at all causing her to panic. "That is me, sir. I am sorry but I can't recall if we've met or not." Chances are that they haven't yet since the majority of her first couple of months aboard the Orion was spent in medical but who knows? Maybe Bennett and her met during a lucid period she doesn't remember. The guys are listened to now but, for now, the Captain has her full attention.

Bennett, on the other hand, has barely even started in on her gin and tonic yet. If indeed that's what it is. She swallows the sip she'd taken, and wipes a trickle off her lower lip with her knuckle, smile turning cautious when Knox speaks up. "Mm," she murmurs noncommitally to his perspective on art ownership. Blue eyes flit to Lleufer briefly when he addresses her. "The Sergeant definitely has the right of it," she concurs with a grin. And then her attention rests on Brina. "We have not, no, to my knowledge. But as I understand it, you were part of the group who took out the SABER site, correct?"

"Nah, I prefer to catch my own fish. I used to camp up at this mountain waterfall on Virgon. There were some fish in the river and I'd spend the weekend up there with a pan, some butter, line, a knife, and a book. That's about as close to hunting as I ever got." Coop glances to Brina and watches her begin a little panic. Its hard not to grin… except when drinking beer. Which he does. Looking to Lleu, he leans back in the chair. "So what do you think of the new Captain? Good? Bad? Shit? Can't be any worse than who we've got. I hope."

Warren arrives from the Living Complex.

Lleufer sits there watching Bennett smiling like that. He smiles back a little before his attention is drawn back to the others, "Yes, Brina was cover'n my ass while I was planting explosive charges as fast as I could. They'd have mowed me down if she hadn't come in to back me up and draw off some of the heat. Even the Sixes though she looked hawt, which I'm thankful for." He gives her a wink, then takes another drink from his glass. Refocus on Knox, "Amos from Caprica? Don't really know well but knew him briefly back on the Collin's Peak. Alway seemed sound, not an ass." Yeah, Lleu's arm isn't aching so much now. Liquor is wonderful.

Warren pushes on into Charlies and runs a hand through his hair. He looks fairly fresh off duty, not even out of his blues, just his jacket undone as he looks about before heading straight to the bar to get a drink it seems. Once he's there he glances around the place looking for any familiar faces, seeing who's down here tonight.

Bennett is watching Brina rather curiously while Lleufer gives them a rundown of what transpired on the mission. And damned if that isn't a subtly appreciative glint in her eyes. Her tongue, though, she keeps in check: "We are all thankful for it. I'm glad you all came home safely." Her drink is slid onto the table, and she leans back slightly to wiggle a pack of cigarettes out of a pocket of her flight suit. It so happens to be a good vantage point with which to spot Warren's arrival; the viper jock is waved over with a smile.

Brina opens her mouth to speak but Lleufer beats her to the punch. It causes her to chuckle and motion to him while at the same time trying not to blush herself into a fiery flameball. "Yeah, I am so sure they found me attractive. Probably even more so once they had me bleeding out." Her water gets drank from as she looks around then and notices Warren, another face without a name as he is also someone she doesn't know. Despite that, she gives the man an upnod, inviting him over.

Bennett's appreciation does not help Brie at all and soon her face is bright red from hairline to well past the semi-scooped neckline of her tanks. "I did what any respectable Marine would have done, sir… but I'm glad we all did, too."

Coop nods to Lleufer. "Good to hear. It'll be nice to get someone up top who knows the score. I think I've seen the command end of the Corps a total of three times since I got aboard, always playin peekaboo out of Battalion." Looking back to Brina, Knox smirks. "I can tell you they don't take pride in killing. The Sixes take pride in the service of honor. They view their tasks as a matter of vital function and their belief in that honor is coupled with their religious outlook. It makes them a terror to face down. Its good you got out of there with what you did. They're vicious."

Lleufer sips his whiskey, "Except for the religious part, they sound a lot like Marines to me." All the more reason to be careful of them. Sergeant Ynyr turns his head to see who Bennett's waving over. He nods to Warren, "Pull up a chair and join us. It's not a Jarhead only party though you /are/ welcome to drink to our success." Good humor is in his pale eyes despite his healing burns, shrapnel cuts, and the bullet hole in his left bicep bandaged up. "I hear you all did well too."

Warren pulls out his smokes as well as he grabs his drink and starts heading over to the group. He makes note of who's there, the new faces…and Knox. That…well that draws frown from him but to the others he gives a little smile. "Evening Butch, Sergeant, ma'am," looking from Bennett, to Lleulfer, to Brina in turn skipping over Knox. "Thank you sergeant I think I will," he says looking for a seat there as far away from knox as he can manage.

"Hi," the blonde says while waving to Warren, Brina smiling. "Brina." That'll suffice for an introduction for now although one of the others might fill in the rest of the blanks like her rank and surname. The crutches that she's having to use are looked at to make sure they're out of the way and then immediately forgotten for now since they don't seem like they'll be a tripping hazard or anything.

Coop gives a shake of his head to Lleufer. "Its a loose connection. The practice of honor and the brotherhood of the Corps is the natural human evolution of the idea the Sixes hold. Its one of the reasons I found it so easy to wrap myself in it when I defected all those years ago. The problem is that the rest are trapped in their endless circle jerk at the idea of honor. They view their practice as a holy obligation. There's a lot of superiority complexes involved with it. But what they do is not the understanding of the code that you and I live and fight for, Lleu. They're stone killers in situations where we'd seriously question the action if not refuse an order." He glances over to Warren and doesn't seem surprised by the skip. The JTAC sips at his beer. "So Lance, where all have you been to since everything started?"

Lleufer drinks up what Knox tells him about the Sixes. He thins his mouth, "All right. More we know the better." A glance around the table, "Introductions might be in order. Eh… Lieutenant Smythe, isn't it?" The Marine remembers seeing a name tag and rank when he'd met the fella before, didn't he? "Don't know I caught your first name. Captain Bennett St. Clair, Sergeant Cooper Knox, I think you all know me, and this is Lance Corporal O'Connell." Huh. Something's messed up in the 'verse if you are leaving the formalities to be observed by an Aerilon. Lleufer knocks back the rest of his fourth whiskey and pours himself another. His words aren't /quite/ as clear as they were before.

Bennett has been nursing her drink quietly while the others converse, and chasing the occasional sip with a pull from her clove. The woman seems distracted, like her mind has wandered elsewhere even though she's going through the motions of smiling and nodding where appropriate.

"A pleasure Brina, I'm Warren," he says offering the non-scarred hand for a shake if she takes it before he actually sits down. He does not over to Lleufer, "Correct in one." Theres a sip of his drink before he works one of the cigarette's out of its pack before that gets tucked away in a pocket and a lighter replaces it in his hand. He lights his cigarette and takes a drag, glancing over to bennett a moment before another sip. "So whats the topic this evening?" he says relaxing back, though for all the relaxing he still looks a little tense.

It is taking some getting used to, hearing Knox talk about the others who are mostly like him. The memory of the other Sixes who shot her is still very fresh in her and Brina winds up with a bit of a thousand-yard stare while she recalls some of the messier points of that mission. Thankfully Warren snaps her out of it before she can get too deep into her head and she quickly put her hand in his. "Pleasure meeting you." And then she does the one thing she promised herself she wouldn't do tonight. "Hey, I need a drink. Someone get me something potent."

Coop leans over to stage-whisper to Lleufer, "I don't think the el-tee likes me." There's a sagenod that goes with it and a chuck to the other Sergeant's shoulder as he grins. Sipping his beer, he watches Bennett and lifts his chin to her. "What's up, Saint Clair? Your mind already flying your next mission? Need a beer? I think you need a beer. Bartender! Captain needs a beer!" Hearing Brina, though, he aims a fingergun at the beer he bought her earlier. "All yours unless I get to it first, Lance."

Perhaps it's the Aerilonian making introductions, or perhaps it's the invocation of her rank that pulls her out of her thoughts, but St. Clair blinks twice and fixes blue eyes first on Lleufer, then Cooper for a long moment. "Oh. I.." Laughing, she skims her fingers through her hair to pull it out of her eyes, and finishes off what's left of her current drink. "Sorry, Warren, what was that? My.. mind is on the mission tomorrow, I apologize."

One of the Marine Sergeants was watching Bennett. Lleufer drags his attention back to the table, fingering his drink. His pale eyes flick back to Knox first, "Not surprising but I don't care." As long as the chuck goes to his right shoulder and not his left, Ynyr doesn't mind it at all. He's in a good mood, nice and mellow. "Get you a glass 'n I'll pour you some of this Piraeus whiskey that's probably not aged more than a week. Put some hair on your che … I mean, make you right perky." Her or her chest? Lleufer isn't sure he knows which, but he lowers his voice to stage whisper, "Or you can drink right from my bottle 'n I won't tell nobody."

Warren raises an eyebrow at Knox's off comment and smirks taking a sip of his drink again, "I believe my only orders regarding you are that I'm not allowed to kill you. Nothing about liking you anywhere in them. I am of course more than comfortable tolerating you" Theres a smile over to Bennett, "No worries, I can understand that. Thats why I'm down here myself really."

Brina eyes Lleufer and raises a brow but doesn't say anything, deciding to leave the 'perky' part of his comment. "Thanks, Sarge." Instead of trying to reach around bodies to get at her crutches she gets up without them and limps over to the bar. A glass is requested by her and then brought back, it held out for Lleufer to fill. "Go ahead, Sarge. Make me perky." He's looked right in the eye as she says that, the others allowed to witness her end of that exchange without so much as a blush or hint of bashfulness to be found.

"Did you put in to fly it, in the end?" Bennett enquires of Warren, turning her glass idly with the tip of her finger. She's wearing blue polish on her nails, most of it chipped, and there's something written in half-faded ink on her palm. "I know you were on the fence about it." What 'it' is, she doesn't elaborate on, precisely, at a table full of jarheads. Though she's clearly used to being in the company of marines, which stands to reason given who she spends much of her time ferrying about. Brina and her staredown are observed bemusedly for a moment while she brings her smoke to her lips.

Coop chuckles at Ynyr's remark and nods. "Yeah I don't think he'll be able to tap that bottle on his own." Looking back to Warren. "Yeah, orders are a bitch like that. Ah well. I can honestly say I've had far frostier greetings so I'm not sweating it. At least people aren't pulling guns anymore. That was tons of fun," he admits dryly. Brina's challenge gets a grin, but he opts not to pursue the topic between the two aviators.

Ah! And she's fiesty too! Ynyr grins as Brina comes back with a glass, "I should'a gotten it for ye. You're perky enough 'n proved it, but this won't hurt any." He's on his fourth of fifth glass and takes exaggerated care to pour Brina some of the whiskey. Lleufer manages not to spill much of it. His hand isn't perfectly steady. Still, he's had a decent portion of the Piraeus whiskey and has barely touched the bottle of Scotch Bennett discovered for him. Take that beauty back to the ship with him later to enjoy slowly.

With his sunglasses hung off of his arm bandage, Lleu moves to stand, "I gotta go pass water." It's an announcement! All hands! All .. never mind. Lleu finishes off his glass of whiskey and snags the Scotch bottle. He comes around the table and hands it to Bennett, "Captain, watch that for me, please." Ynyr leans close to say something to Bennett before he wanders off.

Warren shakes his head to Bennett, "No I decided against it. Too much risk. If Holtz goes…well yeah." He shrugs a moment to her and takes a drag of his smoke before glancing over to Coop, "Yeah well when you go around tossing grenades into the berths I was sleeping in, you tend not to be a popular person." And then theres a smile again as he glances back to Bennett, "Are you going? Or no? On the thing that is…"

The glass is taken once it is filled and is downed with quite a lot less care than what was put into filling it, causing a bit of the booze to run down Brie's chin. The announcement gets her to raise a brow and she grins again. "Don't strain yourself, Sarge. Doc'd be pissed if you were to injure yourself while in the shitter." And then she's quiet, trying to ignore the burning in her gut the booze has left there.

Lleufer looks back over his shoulder at Brina, "Water'n bushes is no strain!" And then he's gone out the door.

Knox lifts his glass to Lleufer in salute and sips again to finish it off. The spare is reached for as he replies to Warren, "Truuuue. However the Sixes that did that aren't the same one that I am. I'm sure the face evokes some pretty horrific memories but-" and he lifts the beer to tap the glass against the scar running across his scalp. "Sometimes there are the outliers who bleed for another cause." He listens to Warren and Bennett, though. There's interest, but he isn't asking! Nope! "So Brina, you were going to ask me something the other day? Or is this a bad time?"

Bennett taps her nail against the glass, eyes ticking toward Lleufer when he murmurs something quietly to her. The corners of her lips inch toward a smile, though the gods only know what it is he said. She shakes her head to Warren a moment later, and watches as her beer is set down and her empty glass taken away. "I.. put in my request, but it was denied." She doesn't explain why, but there's a firm nod and a brief touch to the other pilot's arm when he explains his reasoning.

"It probably is a question best left for later," Brina says. The tension hasn't been lost on her and she knows that to ask Knox about who and what he is right now would be a very bad idea. She takes one more drink of her water and pushes it and the empty shot glass aside, officially done for the night.

Warren nods to Bennett, watching her a bit and gives a nod to her. He takes a long pull on his smoke and glances over to Knox, "Yeah I keep hearing that. I'm sure you can understand my trouble believing that, much less accepting it though. You may be telling the truth, I really don't know." He shrugs and takes a drink, his tone doesn't sound angry, or tense (though the way he sits he certainly seems tense).

Coop listens to Bennett mention the request being denied. He just looks between the two pilots for a long moment before his eyes settle on Brina. "No problem, Lance. Just give me a holler." Back to Warren, he dips his head. "Sure. My best advice is to avoid them at all cost in general. They're lethal to an extreme. But what I will do is let my actions speak for themselves. Its all I can really do. Blathering til I'm blue in the face or arguing with people just tends to provoke mistrust. Easiest thing to do is just let people get it out of their system. I'd rather have people confront me about something than spread junk around." He shrugs at the end.

At least things are not dissolving into a brawl which is something she is grateful for. But even without there being a knock-down, drag-out fight she decides now is as good of a time as any to return to the Orion so she can rest her leg. "See you all later." She hobbles to her feet and grabs the crutches which she leans on a bit more heavily than before when she arrived.

Brina has left.

Bennett may be the only one at the table, aside from Knox, who doesn't seem tense. She takes a healthy swallow of her beer, pale eyes settling on Knox while the skinjob speaks to his 'line'. Maybe it's just the alcohol making her so mellow. "Actions speak louder than words," she opines softly, "or so I have been told. The question, perhaps, is whether you can be held responsible for the actions of your.." She grasps for the right word. "Kin."

Warren smirks a bit at Knox's words, "Yeah thats true, actions do speak volumes. You say you're all different, and that your actions set you apart from the others like you. I've got no proof of that. I've got no proof that you aren't just here waiting for us to get all budy budy with you so no one suspects its you when a grenade comes rolling into one of the berths." He shrugs and takes another drink, "As I said, I got my orders that I can't kill you. And thats all good. Doesn't mean I have to like you though. Tolerate you sure. I can do that." He does take a drag of his smoke, "I do apologize, yes even to -you-, if I've ruined the mood or evening so far."

Knox shakes his head. "Biased opinion, obviously, but I don't think its fair. Especially when someone goes to such lengths to actively work against their own kind. I won't say I'm human or anything like that, but I'm a sentient being with my own opinions and views. Call me an alien if it helps. But-" He sips his beer and leans on the table. "This of it this way: There's a hypothetical mutiny in Engineering against the Chief Engineer. Everyone but maybe two dozen rallies to the mutiny. But these others hold fast out of all and they remain true to what they believe — that the Chief is the Chief and the rest of the command structure is the right one. After it ends, the Chief wins out and the mutiny is put down. Is it fair to imprison and possibly execute everyone in the department, include those dissenters who worked against the mutiny?" He quirks a brow. "We are all accountable for the actions we take and to judge the few on the actions of the whole isn't just unfair, its unethical." To Warren, he nods. "That's true. I could be lying in wait. I could be waiting for the proper time to strike. That is a question that I will have asked of me for the rest of my life. I'll never truly be accepted. But that's alright. Its not about me. It never has been. What matters is what you do. Like you said, you don't have to trust me. I ask very few to do that. I just ask for a chance. If its not given, well, what am I going to do? Fight about it?" Coop chuckles and tilts his beer away. "Nah. Don't sweat it, sir. Its just talk. Not ruining anything."

Bennett listens politely enough as Knox speaks, and by the time he's done, she's polished off the beer. And if truth be told, she's looking a little flush. "Life isn't fair," she murmurs after a time. "Though it was a hypothetical question." Her clove, too, is finished and ground out, and she reaches for her helmet and rucksack. "I ought to be going. I will see you in briefing tomorrow morning, Warren?" Knox gets a long look as she pushes to her feet with a jangle of dogtags. "Good night, Sergeant." At least she acknowledges him as military.

Warren listens to Knox a bit and leans back taking a drag of his smoke, obviously thinking on things. Theres a sip of his drink, and he looks up to Bennett almost questioningly but nods, "See you tomorrow Bennett. Be safe." He glances back over to Knox, "Problem with your scenario is the mutineers and the suposed ones who stood firm don't look all the same, think all the same, talk all the same, walk all the same, are prety much indistinguishable from each other. Just happens one says he wasn't part of it…" He shrugs to the man, thing, whatever, "Life's a bitch like that though. You're not dead so someone believes at least part of what you're saying. And they've said I can't toss you out an airlock so, I'm going to follow that even if I want to."

"Sleep well, Captain," Coop tells her. Looking back to Warren, he gives a conciliatory nod. "Fair. But at the same time, what difference does physical appearance make? Why stop there? The Sixes are also religious. Do you kill them because they also all believe the same thing? The valid point is whether or not we think the same. To be completely honest, I do think the same as they do. The key difference is my contextual experience with humanity and the growth I've experienced with that. I'm an evolution of thought because I escaped the entropy of the system and accepted what I was experiencing. Now, if all of my kind had the same experience, they'd be functionally the same as I am, sitting right here in front of you." Another sip of his beer and he nods. "If you ever find yourself too curious, seek out Captain Elias Gray. I believe he's read-in on everything. Let him explain why I'm here and not floating through space."

Bennett gives Warren a tired and somewhat tipsy smile, touches his shoulder lightly with her fingertips, and departs without further ado.

Bennett leaves, heading toward the Living Complex [LC].

Warren gives Bennett another nod at her touch and a little smile before looking back to you. He takes another drag from his smoke thinking for a moment. Theres another drag as if he's trying to think of how to phrase things, "Would I kill all the sixes because they believe in the same thing? Is that thing the destruction of humanity? I wouldn't even skip a beat. I'd…" He pauses and takes a deep breath shaking his head, not angrily, not upset just stopping himself a moment, "I'm not read in on everything. I don't proclaim to be an expert on your…kind? All I know is that someone looking exactly like you, same voice, same smile, same everything…threw grenades into the berths of my ship. Killed, and injured my crew, my friends. And regardless of if you've made you're own decisions, thats a hard thing to forget. And I can't promise I'll ever forget that, or even put it aside whenever I look at you. But I will say, unless you hurt our people, put them in danger, I'm not going to shove you out the airlock I so want to do, or shoot you in the back, or give you anymore crap than you likely already get. Command made their decision, so I'm going to follow that. Fair enough?"

"I don't think this war is religious. Not all of my kind are religious. It's not…" Coop searches for the word. "I dunno. Its not clean enough, I don't think. Belief, as a concept, is too strong and mixed. I was just saying in general religion. God, Gods, whatever someone believes in that basic form." The rest has him nod. "More than fair. I don't think humanity should ever lose that anger. My people tried to commit unapologetic genocide against humanity. They killed billions of people. Kids, moms, dads, whole families. Innocent people. Damned right humanity should be frakkin pissed. I'm pissed. They killed friends of mine, people I count as brothers and sisters. Father and mother figures in my life. No, I don't expect anyone to set it aside. Someone wants to shoot me, they're going to do it. But my rifle and rounds are going downrange in the same direction as the rest of humanity."

Warren tenses at the bit about family stubbing out his cigarette and drawing a fresh one to light up. He lights it up and takes a drag relaxing a bit with that, "Personally Airlock would be the way I'd want to kill you. No offense. Shooting you you could die right away, or bleed out and get to talk. Airlocking you, knowing its coming. One of two things is going to happen, you're either going to be at peace with it, or look fraking terrified. I can live with that as long as I don't have to hear you." He takes a deep breath again and another drag, "Look, I don't like that you're with us. I honestly don't trust you, command does though so, I can make due. Thats said…I'm here drinking with you and having a smoke…and I haven't tried to kill you. Something I never thought I'd do, at least without having you tied up in an airlock…So there's that."

"Well I suppose that's something. I think." Coop seems undecided, though. "But its in the best interest of this fleet and humanity to see me alive as long as I'm out here at P. Don't worry too much, though. I'm planning to completely screw the Cylons in one major, massive middle finger. Command is up on it. Its one of the reasons I'm still walking around." He finishes off the beer and slowly rises. "Like I said, Elias Gray should know what I've done. If not and you're still curious, I believe my trial was recorded. You can listen to the testimony of several senior officers to the whole fleet. In the meantime, I gotta rack out. Fly safe out there, el-tee."

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