PWD #08: Matter Meets Anti-Matter (Cameo)
Matter meets Anti-Matter
Summary: While posting the JTAC duty schedule, Madeline makes a new friend. Sorta.
Date: 28/12/2012 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Gwen Madeline Zander Duke 
Raptor Squadron - Deck 2 - Battlestar Orion
The berthings for the Orion's Air Wing are the same as what one would find on any other Mercury-class Battlestar, though they are distinctly different from the rest of the bunks on the ship. These bunks are separated not into sections of sixty, but by squadron. That means that there is a little more room to move around with only twenty to twenty-five pilots in one bunkhouse. Some officers have brought a small rug to sit in front of their bunks, but the tables and chairs are standard military issue. At the rear is a small couch that was probably new when the ship left anchorage and seems to have been kept carefully clean. The crest of the Gentlemen Ghosts has been painted onto the wall behind the couch, as well.
PWD #08

It was a dark and stormy nigh— okay, not really. To be perfectly honest, the likes of Zander Sava (in all of his Off Dutiness) loses track of day and night thanks to the fact that he's always playing something. Right now he's perched atop his bunk, legs crossed, crunching on some form of delicious snackage whilst his fingers dance across the keys and screen of his Scion Delta. Whatever game he's playing this time, he must be winning at, because he's not throwing a hissy fit of any kind. He's just kind of got this 'beat you bastards' style smirk on his face.

"B-5," muses a precise and elegant accent, smoke and whiskey in a feminine contralto. "T-5. B-4… T-4. Top. Bottom. How intensely clever." Lt JG Gwendlolyn "Fatso" Song strolls her way between the bunks, also in her off-duties with a duffle-bag slung. Moving day! And she seems to be moving toward the victoriously perched gamer. "B-1," she murmurs finally, glancing from Sava above to the vacant bunk below. She purses her lips and stands in a languid pose, considering the arrangement before ultimately deciding it's to her satisfaction. "Hullo, Bunky."

It only takes a moment for Sava to actually tear his eyes away from the screen and peer down from his victorious perch. "Sup." is all he has to say, as his eyes are taking more stock of who this person is right now. He's got something of a smile on his face though and immediately reaches for his bag of chips. He hangs over the bunk and offers them down. "Welcome to the Thunderdome. Dipsy Doodle?" At least he's all welcoming and stuff! Even if he's trying to make everyone have the same snack attack that he's suffering from. Damn Gameritis.

She swings her duffle onto the bottom bunk, then delicately selects a snack from the bag. "Two men ehn-tah, one man leaves?" she asks mildly. "That should take a while to whittle down this lot. And what of the women?"

"My money's on the women. They kick more ass than half the guys I know around here. Myself included. Coming down!" With a grin, Sava swings himself off the bunk and down to a much more classic state of conversation. "Considering we're gonna' be bunkmates and there's a good chance I'm gonna' be harassing you forever infinity, I might as well introduce myself. Zander Sava." He creates a totally overdramatic bow and extends a hand to shake.

Dark and meticulous eyebrows rise as Savas bows. The corner of Gwen's mouth draws up into a dimpled, wry smile. She extends one graceful leg and does a ballerina's curtsey — not to be outdone. Then she straightens in an elegant swoop to shake hands. "Gwendolyn Song."

Sava and Song are standing in front of the Bunk 1 situation, where they are engaging in the exchange of introductions, bowing and curtseying. It's all very over the top and dramatically formal. And no, Zander has not put down his Scion Delta. Just no.

"It is the highest honor of pleasure to make your acquaintance and all that pish-posh." Zander is only a moment away from cracking up, so he just gives a dismissive wave of his hand, before tossing the chip bag back up to his bunk. "So here's the deal. Nobody really knows this, but I've got this whole place wired. So you let me know if you need anything and I'll make it happen. It's the least I can do for someone with an Epic Level Curtsey."

Apparently feeling better this morning, Madeline nearly bounces into the billets. Skipping. A Marine? Go figure. As she searchs the first wall she comes across, she finds her target. Time to change up for the duty JTACs. As she starts to head over, carrying her sheet of paper, she notices the otehrs. "Oh, morning, sirs!" she offers with a sweet as pie smile before she starts to change out the duty papers, her ponytail bouncing behind her.

Gwen seeems to have a quip, or perhaps an explanation, for the epic level curtsey ready. Or perhaps that's not all the epic she's got up her not-presently-worn sleeves. Or — but. But. Dark eyes are drawn to and follow the bouncing ball of sunshine. The smaller stands mute, baffled, enlightened, and then re-baffled. In that order.

"Myrrah frak her father, it's the Muffin Girl," observes Gwen, utterly deadpan. She reaches back for the snack bag without ever taking her eyes from the dangerously marketablen face and form in fatigues. "I am not even close to high enough for this," she comments. Crunch.

"That can be arranged." is offered to Gwen with a smirk and a wink combination. He may or may not actually have a Secret Stash. But that's neither here nor there at this exact moment. Right now he's got to get his wave on. "What's up, Mads." This is Zander actively trying not to call her Princess Cherry right now. If one were to look at his face, though, there's a chance they may be able to see that his eyes are Fanboying The Frak Out right now. "How is?" That's about the safest query he can make right now.

Muffin Girl. Madeline doesn't quite wince, but her eyes crinkle. "I'm great, sir!" she offers to Zander, addressing him properly. "I'll be your JTAC today, so if you need me, my callsign is Charlie Tree-Tree." she says, beaming a smile at Gwen, since she seems to be staring, she stares right back. Yes, this little bottle of energy and perk and ginger is YOUR BOMB CALLER.

"For the record, the current muffin is blueberry." she smiles at Gwen. Just smiles. Did we mention that she's a Marine?

Gwen glances at Zander. "It's like your life's become a perpetual cosplay, isn't it?" she murmurs, still spinning in the surreality vortex. She blinks at the bill of fare. Bombs and muffins. "How informative. Thank you."

"One Does Not Simply Tease Me With Cosplay." is almost said as something of a warning. Perhaps, he's going to see if he can't collect on such things. There's already a mischievous smile creeping upon his lips at this exact moment. For, you see, now that a plan has been created in his mind. He's going to have to find a way to make it happen. And that's half the fun right there. "Sounds like a plan to me, Chuck." And there he goes even shortening the callsign foo. Oh Zander. "Here's to hoping we get to explode some things today, right?"

"Charlie. You call me Chuck on the radio, and I'll ignore you." Madeline winks, and considers. "Oh. There's going to be this thing down at Checkpoint Charlie's tonight, you two should come and then maybe, sir.." this addressed to Gwen, "You can get high enough." A thin little smile is offered.

"Well, if the scuttlebutt is good, apparently we have drill coming up." she offers in semi-confidence. "I was talking to one of the Decks in the laundry last night, she's getting the birds hot."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it," she-sir says with a delicate line between her brows. After all, the CMC wouldn't have had her if every time she had an appaearance the whole fleet lost their frakking shite. Right? Right. "Song. Gwendolyn Song. I'm an ECO. And a JiG. It's an unfortunate fact that no matter how long and hard one works to be mediocre, eventuslly they will promote you."

"Nobody likes Chuck. I happen to think Chuck is a very nice name. I knew a Chuck back in college. Stellar dude." Oh, the college days. Zander shakes himself out of his reminiscing long enough to pay attention to what's going on. "Checkpoint Charlie's eh?" The amount of social interaction possibilities that are flooding through his mind right now are already freaking him out. "Maybe I'll catch the next one. There's this boss I'm tryin' to beat and everything…" That's right. Classic Gamer Excuse. Which is definitely going to work. It should. Right?

"Well, okay…" Madeline offers as both people turn her down. "I would really like the company though." A smile at Zander as she considers, and thinks she has it all down and done. And don't worry, Gwen. Not everyone loses their shit around Maddie.. if anything, she seems to get more.. oh, we won't get into that. "I look forward to seeing you both tonight or later then." She won't just give up. With a cheerful salute, the young redhead turns and starts to bob bounce out of the berths.

"We are on a ship," notes Gwen — making such encounters inevitable, given time. She watches Maddie's ponytail make its epic cheerleader exit, then sidelongs to Zander, "Are you sporting wood right now, or is Princess Cherry too sacrosanct for such vulgar signs of devotion?"

"See ya' 'round, Princess." Oops. It slipped! Honest! Oh, nevermind. Turning to Gwen. "Woodless. She's just cool people." Zander offers and defends with a shrug. He's not exactly an expert on Madeline, as much as he's an expert on Princess Cherry, but he's not about to get involved in what may or may not end up being something more than just random commentary. There's a reason he called this place the Thunderdome. "But enough about me and my wood. For now, anyway. Are we going to Checkpoint Charlie's or what? If so, I'm gonna' need to charge my Delta…" He's already planning to be incredibly bored.

"Are we going to Checkpoint Charlies?" asks Gwen, tipping her head back to smile up at the considerably taller geek. "I suppose we might be. I thought you had a boss to finish?" She just barely lifts an eyebrow.

Duke arrives from the Squadron Berthings.

"I do. But I'm not about to let my Bunkmate go into such dangerous territory alone. Sooooooooo. If you're goin', I'm goin'. And you're just gonna' have to be okay with that and the tremendous debt you'll owe me afterwards." Zander cracks a huge smile, as if he's already planning ahead for what great things can come of this favor doing. Not that he's even been asked to do this favor. But that's besides the point.

Gwen smiles. "How gallant. I'm sure you get a badge for that." She tilts her head, inquiring. "Do we wear civilised clothing to these functions, or come as we are?"

The DCAG steps into the Raptor Berths, wearing his duty blues, apparently on Duty. He looks around for a brief moment and locks on Zander and Gwen who are, apparently, having a conversation. "Good morning" offers the man, nodding his head as he steps further inside, still looking around, apparently checking if everything looks ok. His attention moves to Zanders and he nods his head to him "Buttons" then he looks at Gwen, nodding again "Fatso" He didn't have one-on-one meetings with him, but what will probably happen soon.

"Clueless." Zander offers this back with a shrug. "I sit on my ass and play video games all day. Do you think I actually understand the need for real life human social interaction or the complex cultural protocol of such asinine functions?" His over-vocabularied question is left to hang there as the DCAG comes into the room and he turns. "Morning, sir."

'Fatso' mouths Buttons? to Zander, looking as thought he's the one with the weird callsign. Or at least amusing. Her attention snaps to the senior officer, however, and she straightens up, giving a very proper nod to the DCAG. "Sir."

And now, Duke is fully looking at Zander "Well, I would hope you do more than just sitting on your ass and playing Video games, Lieutenant. The last time I checked, you are a Raptor ECO, please correct me if I'm wrong" A firm nod is offered to the man and then he turns his head, looking at Gwen now. "As you probably know by now, I've been having one-on-one meetings with each member of the Wing, I will also have meetings with you as well of course. Nothing to worry about, quick and painful"

Immediately standing at even more attention and putting his Scion Delta behind his back, he tries to ignore the mouthing of his callsign by Song and all attempts to mouth back at her about hers. Time to clean up his statement. "My utter laziness is regulated to Off Duty time, Sir." is explained, as if that's going to make everything all better. Probably won't. But there it is anyway. "Might I add, my gaming keeps my ECO skills sharp and ready for use at any moment, Sir." Initiate Verbal Bullet Dodging.

"Respcectfully, sir," Fatso says in her oh-so-lovely accent, "What Sava says is entirely correct. There are a number of cognitive neurological studies that point to the benefit of competitive gaming when it comes to reflexes and split-second decision making." She offers up a lovely smile to go with the accent. "Quick and painful is just how I like it, sir."

Well, at least they work in teams to cover their asses. Duke keeps his focus on Zander and says "As long as you keep your ECO scores up, I don't care what you do with your free time, Buttons" He nods to this and, well, basically, it's true…as long as they do well, they can do whatever they want when Off-Duty. Now, he looks at Gwen and nods "Thank you for the informative session, Lieutenant" He then just shakes his head and half chuckles to himself and shakes his head "Alright, I'll see you both during the one on one meetings. Clear eyes and steady hands" And with that, he departs…Dun Dun Duuuuun.

"I never get a low score, Sir." And perhaps that is where Zander's overconfidence shines. When there is talk of scores and gaming! But with Gwen having his back this entire time, there's something to be said about that too. Zander keeps at attention, though he does mutter out of the side of his mouth, "This doesn't make us even. I had it handled." Just in case Song was about to try and use that against this Checkpoint Charlie's foolishness!

"Your facts are futile without sources. My mother wrote half the papers we're citing," Gwen side-mutters back to Zander, still at elegant paradade rest and faced forward until the SO is le gawn.

The moment that the DCAG is gone, Zander whips his game back out to the front and is turning to look at Gwen with so much incredulousness that he can't exactly keep a straight face. And the question that has been burning in his mind just comes blurting out without a second thought: "Fatso?!" WTF!

"Mm," agrees Gwen with a wry smirk and one dimple. "I suffered from an eating disorder, once. One of my less-discreet instructors at OA thought it was funny." She lowers her lashes, still smiling faintly. "And irony is the only universal constant more powerful than entropy." She glances up at Zander. "Buttons is cute, though." She nods, "I like buttons." And she begins to stroll out. Perhaps to see the rest of the ship. Or spend a few hours on the treadmill.

There's an immediate frown when eating disorders are mentioned. But since it seems to be handled with ease, Zander doesn't press the issue. "Of course you do." There's a confident smirk that comes with the pulling up onto his bunk and the spinning around to sit down, legs dangling off the side and he finally unpauses his game. "After all, I'm Buttons." Oh lord. Zander Sava thinks he's a Player now. Somebody crash this ship now.

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