AWD #004: Skins vs. Skins
Skins vs. Skins
Summary: A friendly game of pyramid between Tiptoft, Jess, Holtz, and Wake gets physical. Several others, including the new CAG, drop in to spectate.
Date: 09/01/2013
Related Logs: None
Wake Tiptoft Holtz Jess Cole Catriona Cassie Zachary 
Pyramid courts, Piraeus
Pyramid courts are here for those who enjoy playing and watching the sport. Courts are separated for different games to be going on at the same time. A tiered seating area is placed on the left and right sides of the court. Lower benches are also in place around the court edge.
AWD #05

A heavy blanket of snow covers Sheridan's makeshift Pyramid courts, glinting a brilliant white under the twin Cyrannus suns. It's a seasonable thirty-five degrees out here, made just slightly colder by a light breeze blowing south-southwest across the Colonial encampment — and were it not for the two heavy-duty heat lamps set up at each end of Center Court, it would be far too cold to do much of anything. But having powered on the burners by paying off the engineer-in-charge with a pair of drink tickets, Leo Tiptoft now busies himself shoveling snow off the ground. With his oh-dark-bullshit CAP out of the way, he's seized this brief moment of respite to stretch his legs and get some fresh air. The big man cuts a lonely figure in his standard-issue sweats, his stocky silhouette sharpened by the mountains of white around him.

After five years on the beach, Kurt Holtz isn't used to being cooped up inside a giant metal can in the depths of space. So, upon Orion's return to Piraeus, he took the first opportunity to hop down to the planet. The Tauron native is wearing a heavy looking bomber jacket over his off-duty fatigues, festooned with old squadron patches and rank pins, both enlisted and officer, from earlier in his career. For now, he's just wandering about, taking the occasional slug from a small flask ensconced in his pocket. As his path takes him closer to the Pyramid courts, his eyes focus on Tiptoft. "Thumper, hey." He eyes Tiptoft as the other man attacks the snow with a shovel. "I thought you came down here to relax, man."

Clad in a pair of sweatpants, and a dark maroon hooded sweatshirt, the Intelligence officer doesn't seem to cast that much of an impressive figure. Still, while the mountain of pilot shovels, he's cutting across the courts with an old bristled job of a broom-likely taken from one of the equipment lockers. 'Saw you out here when I came down." Thom offers in the means of a greeting. "Figured you might want the help." And so without much ado, or to see if he is interfering, the Lieutenant sets to start brushing off the left over white powder. Regardless of Holtz standing around and jawwing, it seems that Wake, wants to clear the court.

Cole likewise has made it down to the surface. Watching two Colonies burn is enough to make you appreciate solid ground, despite the fact that Janitor rarely has come down to Piraeus despite his twenty something months aboard the Orion. He's in his naval peacoat, a wool beanie pulled down tight over his ears. The vapor of his breath mingles with the smoke he's exhaling from his fumarella while he talks with his wing(wo)man as they tromp through the snow towards the Pyramid grounds. "…so he said, 'Call me an elf one more time.' When I did, that's when he flew across the table at me and midget tossing was never more literal."

"Shit, man. This is relaxing." With a loud grunt, Thumper jams his bright orange shovel into a nearby snowdrift. He's been at this for a while, by the looks of it, and though a few of the safe zones are still slick with ice, the rest of the court is pretty much clear after Wake does the thing. Discarded pieces of his winter uniform are stacked in a messy pile next to one of the space heaters — from which he now retrieves a battered Pyramid ball he's been incubating like an egg. "You ladies wanna throw down? Assuming you aren't here to order me back to the barn for more godsdamned debriefing." This, to the senior lieutenants ambling his way.

Limping her way down the path as part of her personal inspection of Piraeus, Catriona Boyd is making the use of one crutch. Favoring her left leg, she's putting on the best TINY TIM show ever while she gazes about, taking in everything. Nose lightly made red from the cold outside, she's shrugged the hood of her park to rest back on her shoulders and turns in towards the pyramid courts. Alone, she comes to a stop outside of the playing area, watching everyone congregate with quiet interest.

"You are so full of shit," Jess retorts with a roll of her eyes, "You should have called him a gnome, obviously." Gods, Cole. Get it right. She's got a grey hat over dark hair, and a fleece zipped up over uniform in place of the peacoat. "Getting a game going?" she calls over to Tiptoft as they near, "Nice of you boys to get the court all ready for us."

"He didn't have the pointy hat!" Ari points out, before the filter of his cigarette gets touched back to his lips. The native Scorpian naturally gravitates towards one of those heaters, like a moth to a flame. "Frak, I haven't played pyramid since I was a kid. And repeatedly got my ass beat."

Wake grins in Tiptoft's direction. "Well I didn't shovel all that crap, for no reason, son." The Lieutenant offers with a grin back towards the rather tall pilot. How do you stuff that much man into a cockpit-he will never understand. "Played in Highschool." Pyramid, to which he points towards Thumper 'Which means I am obviously cut out now to do be doing this." the sarcasm heavy there-but still he is stretching out. There's a brief look up towards Jess and Cole, before he's snorting. "Someone needs to do the housework…" Wake's voice might, might be familiar to those with the really late CAPs. 'So what's the teams, Shirts and Skins? Fleeces and blouses?" the statement is dry.

Holtz considers Tiptoft for a moment, and then drains the last dregs of liquid warmth from his flask as he removes his bomber jacket and dumps it next to Thumper's discarded pile of outerwear. He nods in Wake's direction. "Yeah, same… high school." Eyes narrow at Tiptoft, and a slight smirk tugs at the ends of his lips. "All right, I'm in…" He points a finger at the former pro. "…but if you pull a stunt like you did in that game against Scorpia, I'll frakking flatten you." Holtz is a Pyramid fan, then, if somewhat removed from his playing days.

"Hells yeah." Tiptoft lobs the Pyramid ball in Jess's direction with a barking laugh, while his other hand reaches out to crank the space heaters up to max. Beads of sweat roll off Tiptoft's face and arms, and flash-frozen air billows from his mouth with every breath he takes. Stripped down to his sweats, the short pilot looks rather like a steam engine boiling over with power. "Skins against all comers. AWWWWW yeah." And then in one fluid motion he peels off those sweats and chucks them Holtz's way. "Who's ready for this?"

Clearly not in the running for a day on the courts, Catriona tripods her way over to the heater near Cole. Glancing over to him, she gives him one of those quaint, absolute-stranger smiles and extends her hands toward the heater. Her woolen, fingerless gloves take in the heat while she rests her arm above the standing crutch for balance. She shakes her ponytail free of her parka's hood and turns her attention to the Pyramid players, speaking sidelong to Ari. "I don't know about you, but they're crazy for going shirts and skins outside like this."

Jess catches the ball and tosses it from hand to hand, laughing at Tiptoft's challenge. She eyes the other officers and then shrugs, "Shit, if none of you are going to jump on that, I am totally taking his team. Don't you guys like winning?" She eyes them incredulously and flicks the ball at Cole with a "Think fast, Jan." Her jacket and sweats go in the pile, bare arms spread wide in a stretch before she jogs over to join the former pro pyramid star. "Alright," she says, clapping hands together briskly, "Let's do this."

"That's why you looked familiar.." Wake apparently caught something by Holtz's statement. "Well hell.." And he's grinning right there at the huge now shirtless man. And so the lanky Aerilon man rises up, before he is reaching to fuss with his zipper. "I think the dang thing froze-ah there it goes." Thick thermal lined hoodie is unszipped and tossed away, followed by his shirt-leaving dog tags, and a medalion that clearly shows some likeness of Poseidon on it. And following suit, Wake's shirts, and hoodie are tossed towards Holtz. "This is either stupid, or amazing. At least he won't sweat through his clothes.

Tiptoft watches approvingly as Nags and Wake do their thing, stalking forward to offer each of them a meaty fist to pound. (Of course, his eyes linger on the former in what he thinks is a totally non-obvious way. Which means it's totally obvious.) Then, with a delighted roar, the man slams his gloved hands into a pile of snow at the base of a head, throwing his arms upwards to send three flurries into the sky — each higher than the last. "Take it out, Nags!" he growls, as errant flakes of snow melt on his skin. And the moment she tips the ball he bounds forward to meet it, combat boots screeching against painted concrete.

Cole pretends to shield his eyes from the now half-naked form of Tiptoft. "Aw, man. Nobody's ready for that." His laughter comes out with ease, batting the ball that Jess threw at him towards the game that's about to start. He answers Cat, "They're so hyped up on adrenaline, not even pneumonia could touch them." Content to sit on the sidelines for this one, he crosses his arms over his chest and gives Catriona a quick once over. "How ya doing?"

Holtz's head jerks, and he sticks a hand up, snagging Tiptoft's errant clothing right before it would have smacked him in the face. He tosses the shirt off the court with aplomb, followed by the tanktops that had been under his own now-discarded jacket. His dogtags jangle against his tattooed chest as he steps into the ring. A nod to Wake, his presumptive teammate since Tiptoft seems to have claimed Jess. And then, just like that, the action begins. With a shout, Holtz charges towards Tiptoft.

Leaning back just enough to stay out of the firing lane from Jess's toss to Cole, Catriona rights herself and blinks at the shirtless Tiptoff roaring and throwing snow all over the place. Her green eyes blink, and the side of her lip upturns into an amused little grin. "So that's adrenaline you're calling it? I don't know what it's called but there's no way in Hades I'm getting any closer to the court." She laughs, shaking her head and making sure Tiptoff can see the playfull roll of her eyes. She turns her attention to Cole. "I should be back to normal in a week. The round missed the bone and most of the important stuff, so I'm lucky." A beat. "Are these guys in your squad? What are you, Marines? Pilots?"

Fists are bumped. And he's left looking to Jess as Holtz charges Tiptoft. "Well that's one way.." Wake mutters before he's moving to cover Jess. Block them shot and passing opportunities. GET PHYSICAL. All those fun things one does in a pyramid game. His arms remain low as he comes in to guard. CAUSE HE IS A BAWSE. And he kinda remembers how to play, beyond, slamming his body into someone in order to get results.

Hey now, Jess claimed Tiptoft. Just to be clear. She fist-bumps, ignores the totally unsubtle checking-out, and then laughs, "Skins versus skins? Alright, whatever." She gets the ball back and checks it to Wake before throwing to the Thumper hurtling across the court. She dodges quickly, pivoting to try to duck free of Wake and get open again. There might be elbows involved. All in good fun.

"Yo Janitor — EVERYBODY's ready for these guns," barks Leo, skidding to a stop as Cole sends the ball back toward the court to avoid knocking the older pilot to the ground. "Skins on skins, baby — WOOOOOO!" He's like a kid out here — albeit a kid in a two-hundred-pound body, which now thunders back to the field of play just in time to get laid out by Storm. The impact sends him crashing to the ground a second after he slings the ball against the head, hoping that Jess will grab the ricochet before Wake gets a hand on it.

Jess is able to get around the CIC officer, but he's quick and on her, tags jingling as he's running, an elbow catches the ribs, and for that slight-the pilot would hear a grunt, before a hand is coming out and over. Wake going for some ups in order to try and bring down the ball before Jess is able to snatch it from thin air. It could go either way-give a couple of seconds. Yes he will sacrifice hiss weet bod for the play.

Hey, no one's ever going to give Holtz points for subtlety. Though Tiptoft clearly has the edge in both youth and experience, Holtz's sudden charge connects and Thumper is down. A maniacal grin twisting across his face, Storm takes off in the other direction, his feet pounding against the court as he moves to a position to catch either a feed pass or ricochet from Wake. Assuming his teammate can beat Jess to the ball, that is.

Jess would catch the ball, but she gets distracted staring at Wake's sweet bod. No, wait. She does catch the ball, but only because she shoulders Wake's sweet bod out of the way in a fashion that is probably (definitely) a foul. She manages to just get fingertips on the ball and coax it down, bobbling briefly before getting a hold on it. "Thumper!" Is he up yet? Get up, dude. She tries to drive closer to the near goal, attempting to buy time until her teammate gets open.

Leaping to his feet, Thumper charges after Holtz, lunging forward with his left arm in an attempt to take advantage of the man's overcorrection — and shove him out of the way, buying him two precious seconds of wide-open space. Sweat and melted snow wick off his body, fizzling as they hit the freezing ground.

"I can claim all of them except…" Cole's finger juts out, tracking the moving figure of Wake. "That one. I think he's from CIC, but the rest of us are from the triple sevens, Lucky Strikes viper squad. You saw action then, huh? Where at?" He's half keeping track of the game, half keeping track of his smoke and the conversation at hand. "DICK SLAP THOSE ASSHOLES, NAGS!"

Elbow? ELBOW. Hell. There's a glance there and Wake's getting back up after hitting the ground. Whether a foul or not, Wake's not calling it. Rather, he's spitting and getting back into the game. "Kid-" Because he doesn't know Holtz's name a means to thread the needle and hopefully get her to pause-if it works and he leads her right, Wake will be coming in for a good cross check before she can either shoot or pass.

"Oh, I'm not military." Catriona admits to Cole with a shake of her head that sends her black ponytail swaying from shoulder to shoulder. "I was on Cap City when the marines came down and was brought on board unconscious. I'm with the Secret Service and took a bullet for the guy I was keeping an eye on, but after that it all gets a little gray. Next thing I know I'm waking up on the Orion. Guess that makes me a refugee."

The pair of Cole's dark eyebrows jut up so fast that you'd think his eyelashes were on fire. "Seriously? Dionysus' balls, that's…frak me, I can't imagine having been on the ground. You're one lucky S.O.B." Ari tells Cat, followed by a sheepish pause. "Ma'am. Miss Boyd. Pardon my language."

"Foooooouuuuul!" Holtz shouts after Nags, but his tone doesn't sound like he expects anyone to do anything about it. Especially not after the way he ran down Thumper to start the game. Speaking of whom… Holtz stumbles as Tiptoft pushes him aside. He nearly falls, one knee brushing against the court, but recovers after a couple seconds and bounds back into the scrum. The older pilot lets Wake cover Jess for the moment, as he does his best to duck in front of Tiptoft and block the man from receiving any passes.

"Seriously." Catriona replies, tilting her head just a little before her eyes veer to the corners of their sockets, centering on Ari. "Special Agent Catriona Boyd."

Jess laughs at Holtz' call of foul, and tries to spin away from Wake's check to lash a pass towards Tiptoft for those two seconds that he's open. She doesn't quite get it off in time, getting knocked a good few steps back by the Intel officer just early enough that the pass wobbles, and Holtz and Leo may have to fight for it. She regains her balance just short of the snow, and then sprints into action again.

"Catriona or CJ's fine, flyboy. It's alright." Catriona replies, giving a little shake of her head. Her green eyes turn to the snowfield in the distance, somewhat lost in the change of season. "It was…really bad down there. One moment everything was normal and then like changing the channel it was something completely different. I don't even know if my team or the guy we were protecting made it out. I think someone just threw me into some nearby triage pile and I got dragged onto one of your Raptors."

"Play the frak on!" Thumper screams approvingly, making himself small to evade Holtz's attempt to clothesline him. Black-gloved hands snatch Jess's pass out of the air, his practiced eyes already trained on that juicy open net. A half-second later and his arm's uncoiling like a cobra, slamming the ball into its rusted metal cage with enough force to make the entire head tremble — right before he slips on a patch of ice and falls into the head himself. "POINT, SKINS," he bellows, breaking into a little dance before chucking the ball in Wake's direction. "Take it out — um." Beat. "TAKE IT OUT, OTHER SKINS!" Yeah.

"I think our team will be refined, skins." Wake says with a dusted laugh, before he's chuckling. A motion is made towards Thumber once he's got the ball. Yes, he is going to check it off the BIG MAN. "You stay with me kid." Or basically stay where I can pass SON. There's the first step after the check, before he's hurtling something close to precision toss in Holtz's direction. Once that's been done-he's taking off. Because he's going to try and cut the field of play to get nice and open for Holtz. It's the Aerilon way-you know wide open…spaces. (Lame I know)

Defense never was Thumper's game. Instead of tackling Wake as all good posts would do, he leaps to intercept the man's pass — and zigs when he should zag. The ball sails by him to a wide-open Holtz while Leo tries to stop his forward momentum in time to catch the agile intel officer. This one's on you, Jess. "Wreck his shit!" he yells.

"Helluva thing." Cole continues to marvel, taking another drag of his cigarette while his face falls into a serious expression that has a knot forming at the bridge of his nose. It's broken quickly by his attention being caught by the pyramid players. "Lose this game, Jess, and I'm never going to let you live it down! Teabagging will be involved!" There's a quick tick of a sidelong glance to CJ and a quirk of a smile given.

"YO JANITOR," Tiptoft can't help asking in his inside voice, which basically amounts to a yell. "She into that sorta thing?"

Holtz scrambles for the ball when Jess' pass goes awry, and given that he's pushing forty and playing against a professional, it's not really a surprise when Tiptoft gets to it first. He settles for trying to pummel the other pilot into the ground once more, but this time Tiptoft sees it coming and dances around him. Holtz careens a few steps, and then curses softly when he hears the clang of the goal behind him. "Nice shot…. frakker," he grunts. Then it's underway again, and he snatches Wake's quick pass out of the air. Elbows ready to check anyone that challenges him, he charges towards the center and plants the ball before suddenly reversing direction and firing the ball across the court. It bounces off one of the goal panels… and right towards Wake. Or, rather, where Wake will be in a few seconds if the intel officer keeps charging like he is.

"You wouldn't happen to have a spare smoke a girl could steal, do you?" CJ asks Cole, pointing one of her slender fingers towards the lit cigarette in his hand. She returns his smile and turns her gaze towards Jess and Tiptoft, sucking in her lower lip to watch the game from the safety of the heating unit. A laugh slips her lips and she rears her head back, only to catch a few snowflakes on her brow. "I'll have to crash your table at the bar. This is obviously the cool kids' table. Teabagging? Really?"

"Try it and I'll shiv you in your sleep, Thumper!" Kidding mostly, but apparently Cole is also protective of his wingman, as much as he antagonizes her. "Hmm?" He asks CJ, trying to switch his brain back to whatever it was the agent just asked. It only takes it a second to click, "Oh yeah. Sure. Guess you didn't have time to pack a bag." He pats the pocket of his jacket, coming up with a crinkled military brand packet, shaking one out for her.

"You just try it you frakker!" Jess shouts back at Cole, or maybe Tiptoft. Both? "You'll never see your balls again!" She runs for Holtz, flinging herself into his path, arms up to try to block that pass to no avail. She does manage to foul the former flight instructor, though, before she's dashing off to try to intercept Wake before he can make it to the goal. Probably by tackling him. Rugby was really always more her game.

Wake's also too quick for Thumper, who makes the snap decision to backpedal and cover Holtz in the center-spot after Jess switches marks. This, of course, is easier said than done — for the older pilot's got about five inches on him, not to mention a heck of a lot bigger wingspan. And so he smashes the full weight of his body backwards against the man's chest, his thick thighs flexing as he digs his boots against the court to push the guy off-balance. Obvious foul is obvious.

Offense was more of Wake's speed. And it shows. For once he's not being elbowed or fouled down yet. Instead, Wake does show some impressive moves-and by that, I mean one stutter step, that helps him evade the incoming Tiptoft with a huge S.E.G plastered on his face. That is likely the extent of the man's skill right there being flexed. With that pass from Holtz lined out Wake's extending his body, fingers moving for the ball-and he catches. His strides taking him closer to the goal.

There's a jump AND HE IS SHOOTING…

And he scores, quicker than a star player on prom night. When the Aerilon officer comes down after his slam to the cage, he just dusts off his shoulders, from what snow has hit down. "Take it out, skins." he offers panting, but still grinning in Tiptoft's direction. If he had the inclination to dance-he totally would.

"Thank you sir." Producing her own lighter, CJ lights the cigarette and slips the lighter back into the pocket of her parka. The first drag is taken, and her lips come together to blow the smoke in the direction of the Pyramid court. Her eyes narrow as the shot is prepared and her shoulders roll back in anticipation, as if she's watching the game from the comfort of the sofa in her living room. He scores. She releases her shoulders with a grin. "So what's the deal with this planet?" She finally asks Cole. "Did the military just find some planet out in the middle of nowhere and decide to build a base on it?"

The pass is off, and not a moment too soon. Holtz is a big, strong guy, but Jess' hook puts him just off balance enough that Tiptoft's sudden shove is enough to knock him flat on his back. It's worth it, though, as Wake's shot is perfectly on target. The older pilot takes a moment to pull himself to his feet, but he's smirking when he does; he claps his hands and points at Wake as if to say, Nice one. He stands in place for a beat to catch his breath before moving to cover Jess.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. Where is my mind at?" Cole stuffs the pack back in his pocket so he can offer his hand to CJ. "Lieutenant Aristides Cole, people call me Janitor. You can cut out the 'sir', unless you're enlisting." Should she take his hand, he doesn't shake, just merely gives a friendly squeeze. Then, "That's Nags, Thumper. Storm and…CIC guy."

"SWEET frakking juke back there, yeh?" calls Leo to Wake, a toothy smile splitting his broad face. "ONE ALL, BABY!" Extracting himself from Holtz's sweaty limbs (ew) with all possible speed, he lopes over to the head to snatch the ball from the cage. It's chucked to Jess so she can take her turn on offense — and the second the rock goes live, he spins in front of his two opponents, doing his best to seal them in at one end of the court so Nags can take a free shot at not one but two open goals.

Jess is too late to stop Wake's shot, and she breaks off before tackling, just giving him a friendly thump on the back instead. "Shit! Nice shot, man." She darts away from Holtz as Leo tosses the ball back in, and then she's off, lobbing a long shot at the nearest goal. It clangs off the rim but falls in, and she throws arms up in the air in triumph. "Two one!" Thumper gets a high five on the way to collecting the ball and tossing it to Holtz to bring back in.

Catriona laughs and takes Cole's hand, giving his hand a soft squeeze and a simple shake. "Oh the sir was just the whole thank you for opening the door for me sir, not the military one. I'm not enlisting, not if I can help it, but with luck I might get my skills put to use because I'd make a horrible scientist." She takes her hand back and returns to her cigarette. "I already met CIC guy, he was combing the Ward a few days ago." She lifts her chin to the pyramid match, opening her mouth.

"Hey! CIC Guy!" She calls out towards Wake. "What's your name anyway?"

Holtz isn't quite quick enough to block Leo's pass, and he's likewise just a step too slow to keep Jess from sinking her shot. "Getting too old for this shit," he mutters not-quite-under his breath as he checks the ball. Nevertheless, he's not about to give up, and he clenches his jaw as he steps back into the court. Faking a pass to Wake, he instead drops his shoulder and charges towards the nearest goal.

Thumper throws back his head and howls in triumph, his fists clenched at his waist. Returning Jess's high-five with an attempted saucy ass-slap (THIS IS WHAT HE DOES WHEN HIS TEAMMATE SCORES, OKAY?), he powers forward into the center-spot to guard the zone — and bites hard on Holtz's fake. The big man hits deck for the third time in as many minutes, but as he falls he lunges at the sprinting Wake, trying to send the CIC man sprawling into his teammate's body.

"Shit." Wake mutters, apparently distracted before he's moving to try and get open in case Holtz get's a better idea, beyond taking it to the hole. As such he's going to try and throw a block into the brick house that is Tiptoft. Don't worry Catriona, he'll answer as soon as as he comes too..because it seems that Thumper and Wake, sadly have the same idea. To hit each other as hard as they can.

Cole starts shifting from foot to foot, and it's not because he's trying to stave off the cold. "Frak, I gotta piss. It was nice meeting you, CJ. Speedy recovery and all that." He stomps out his cigarette in the snow. "Nags! I'M GOING TO PISS. DON'T MISS ME TOO MUCH."

"So that's why they call you Janitor." CJ replies to Cole, nodding her head as he announces that he's going to leave. "Take care."

Jess sideeyes Tiptoft at that ass slap. It is a warning, 'that is the one and only time you are getting away with that' sort of look. But it doesn't last long, because Holtz needs covering. Except then Wake and Thumper are both about to hit him, and she backpedals out of the way, ready to sneak in and steal the ball once the three of them demolish each other and hopefully knock it loose. "DON'T WORRY, I WON'T," she calls back to Cole in the meantime.

It might be the one and only time, Nags, but he'll treasure it for the rest of his life. Especially now, right as the force of Wake's charge launches Thumper backwards. It's a hit that would look even more powerful in slow motion — but on the flip side, of course, Leo's just done the same to the CIC officer. A trickle of blood drips down his right arm as he jumps to his feet, and a massive bruise has just started to blossom on his left torso. Only then does he notice the wounded woman watching from the sidelines: who receives a shit-eating grin and an obligatory biceps-flex before he brings his attention back to the game.

Yeah, that Charge was likely the last thing he saw. because when two objects collide. Something happens. Maybe you see God. Still there's a groan, after he opens his eyes. The impact, briefly dazing the intel officer, and he's looking to his shoulder as he sits up. Rolling it, testingly, before he pushes himself up to his feet. A cruse, before he turns to sit out some blood. "I think I bit part o' my tongue.." And there a tiny fleck of red is spat out. "Yup.." murmured before he is wiping down his pants. And there he swivels his head to see where exactly Holtz is.

With Tiptoft and Wake doing their best to turn each other into stains on the ground, and Jess holding back for the moment, there's nothing to stop Holtz, who's doing his best (small-j)juggernaut impression as he charges towards one of the goals. He stops, plants the ball, then turns and unleashes a powerful throw at the open goal. It clangs violently against the basket as it drops into the tray below, and Holtz takes just long enough for a fistpump before he picks up the ball and flips it to Jess with an insouciant wink.

The lone spectator at this point, Catriona can't help but laugh at how physical the game is getting, even in the snow. With her arm propped at the elbow, she holds her cigarette to the side like a debutante. All she's missing is the long, black cigarette holder. So when Thumper flexes his muscles at her, she waggles her fingers towards him with a little wave and a shake of her head. "You guys are absolutely brutal, you know that? I'm never playing with you four. Ever."

"Quit flexing," Jess calls to Tiptoft as Holtz scores, "You didn't even throw CIC guy into him! Come on!" Come on! She catches the ball when Holtz tosses it, shaking her head. And then she's quickly in motion again, faking a cut right and powering left, shoulder dropped to try to catch Holtz off his guard with a bump to the chest. Then she'll be spinning around him towards goal, is the idea.

The only response his audience will get is a thundering roar — one cut short the moment play restarts. "Just look at the sum-bitch," Leo calls back, leaping free of the still-staggered Wake. "YEH, YOU'RE ALL FRAKKED UP YOU SCOUSE BASTARD!" Then, anticipating Jess's maneuver, the big man slots his body between Holtz and his teammate, throwing his arms up and making himself as large as possible to push him back and open up a narrow scoring lane.

"You just don't know how to have a good time, then," Holtz calls out with a grin, speaking to Catriona for the first time. He's driven back a few steps by Jess' sudden shove, and then she's by him. He cuts out and around before charging back in, shoving past the smaller Thumper to get to his teammate; his intent seems to be to flatten Jess the same way he did Tiptoft at the beginning of the game.

"Huh?" Scouse apparently means nothing to Wake-and he's moving now, with a grunt as he goes to take on Jess. With Holts possibly running into the pick, that does not leave the CIC man much time to hurry. But he's moving, trying to come in to block the shot. Maybe goal tend if he's there quick enough. Though as he scorches, (jogs) on by the boarder he does finally answer Catriona as he passes by. "Wake." Not his full name, but it serves.

"Back, back, back!" screams Tiptoft, who — as both men converge on Jess — is now more open than Holtz's mom.

Jess slips past Thumper to that lane and leaps for the goal, up into the air to try to get a shot off, but hesitates and twists to try to pass to Leo instead. But she gets jammed up by Wake and Holtz both, checked from two angles hard enough to knock breath out in a grunt, and the ball flies out of her hand, up for grabs.

And like that Wake's hand's up and he's bringing the ball down against his chest. Right now he is turning and moving so as to peel out from the incoming destruction that is Tiptoft. Where is old man Holtz? Because, likely Wake is going to be looking to pass, or Richochet-real soon.

"Damn." Cat winces as Jess is hit. A hiss escapes her lips and she ashes the cigarette into the wind, leaning her lips in for another drag from it. Not answering Wake, but hearing him loud and clear, she lifts her head to the group. "Some of you guys are bleeding. Do you need me to go get a kit so you guys can clean up before walking back?" She asks, loud enough to be heard.

Old Man Holtz is breaking for the nearest goal, seeing that his teammate is all over recovering that fumble. He directs a quick shake of the head to Catriona, but that's not surprising, as the big bruiser seems to have escaped the worst of the punishment — so far. Then his attention is back in the game, and he hovers by one of the goal panels, waiting for either pass or ricochet.

Correction: Old Man Holtz would be hovering if he weren't about to get flattened like a pancake by a whirling dervish of a man. Tiptoft doesn't seem to care that his arm's still bleeding, and if he notices the bruise, it sure doesn't seem to bother him any. Defense may not be his thing, but hitting sure is: and this one is clean and brutal, delivered with a lowered shoulder and a running start that'll hopefully bring all two hundred pounds of him into Holtz's vulnerable torso before any attempted pass connects. As for first aid? "HELLS NAW. PLAY ON YEH?"

Well, that Avenue is out. It looks like Wake, in his faux pass has to tug in and run on, mother trucker. His knee burns with the sweet delicious taste of exercise, as arms pump. As such the CIC Officer doesn't seem to know if Jess is coming in at him or going off in some other way. Instead there's a raise back with an arm. And it looks like he's going to take a long shot on this. FROM DOWN TOWN. (It's likely a lousy shot)

Jess finds her feet again as Wake and Holtz charge on, catching her breath for a second before she races after them. Tiptoft goes for their fellow pilot, so she goes for Wake, leaping to knock the ball out of his hand as he winds up for a shot. It skitters across a patch of ice and she slides after it, scooping the ball up and sending a long pass of her own towards where she hopes Leo will be breaking towards the net. He should be. IT IS THE SENSIBLE PLACE FOR HIM TO BE.

"Ach—" Holtz lets out a strangled, guttural sound as Tiptoft slams into him head-on. Viper stick down! Holtz goes down hard on his back, but his old brawler instincts kick in as he falls. An instant after he hits the ground one of his legs snakes out in a vicious trip move, a last ditch effort to bring Tiptoft down before he can get into position to recieve the pass.

A flailing of arms, And Wake's back pedalling. Once that pass is thrown, Wake moves to leap up and intercept. His hands up, as he tries to reach for that ball. His body graceful as a male swan in flight. Fingers skim along the ball's supple leather and sythn exterior, as he tries to pull it down, but fails. However in this classic dive, he's left coming downin Jess' direction. LOOKOUT

Finishing her cigarette, Catriona drops it to the snow and lets the moisture snuff the life out of it. "Alright, suit yourselves. You're all crazy and I'm going back inside where it's warm." She gives them, whoever is looking, a wave and then turns to leave. Careful to not get her crutch stuck on a slick patch, she hobbles along towards the Living Complex.

Tiptoft's body alerts him to Holtz's moves before his brain fully reacts. "That's some BULLSHIT," he offers, jumping by instinct over the man's extended foot — which grazes just enough of him to force him to take another leap. Yet somehow he manages to stretch out his five-foot-seven frame just enough to pluck Jess's pass out of air, and his forward momentum means he stays airborne for thirty-six more inches. Space enough to slam the ball into the head, which reels backwards a half-foot under the stress. And there's the dunk. "SKINS THREE, SKINS TWO!" the man screams, slamming his chest with two fists and staring down some invisible ref.

"Shit!" is not as helpful as 'watch out!' or 'Wake!' or 'behind you!' or 'don't fall on me, CIC guy!' but it is what Jess says. She scrambles out of the way, gets knocked half back down by Wake's momentum. On one knee she leans around him, just in time to see Tiptoft's triumph if not his actual score. Arms go up and she whoops. "Nice one, Thumper!" She extricates herself from the ground and brushes off some gritty snow from shoulders and knees. "First to four?" she suggests with a grin.

Wake rolls over as he looks back towards Jess, and there's a laugh there for a moment. He does offer a hand, so he can get jerked back up, after that spectacular dive into the competition. "Good pass." he offers back, though unlike Tiptoft, Wake does not slap Jess' rear end. He is an officer and a gentleman. Once up, he's dusting himself up, before running his hands down his arms. "Heat lamps do a world of wonder.." Because none of them seem to be in the stiff blue lipped chattering stage.

"Frak," Holtz breathes as Tiptoft manages to avoid his undeniably dirty play. He gets up to his feet once more, hands on his hips and bared chest heaving as he once again pauses to catch his breath. Stiff blue lipped chattering stage? Hell, with those heat lamps blaring, Holtz is almost sweating, and he's from the rocky deserts of Tauron. There's another surprised curse as he touches a hand to his forehead and comes away with a speckle of blood; that last fall must have rung his bell a bit, but he'd barely felt it with all that adrenaline. Shrugging, he trots back into position, ready to continue.

Tiptoft's grin is wild, and for the first time in the game he actually seems winded. The big man pops a squat and rests his hands on his knees, pausing to catch his breath. Only now does he notice that he's all sorts of bleeding — a problem he solves by grabbing a discarded (and still-sweaty) undershirt and wiping until the blood's all soaked away. Then, tossing it back, his grin even wider, he jogs over to Wake, leaving Jess to outhustle Holtz with her quickness.

Walking along the path from the living quarters, Zachary was apparently visiting someone that lives planetside. As he hears the noises and scuffling of some of the pilots that he just took under his wing, he pauses at the side of the field. Cupping his gloved hands up to his mouth, he blows in them to warm them up as the Major watches the pilots at play.

Jess digs gravel out of her elbow and takes Wake's hand when it's held out. Back in the game, it takes her a second to track the ball down, tossing it to Holtz to check in. She tries to keep him penned in at the sideline, arms out, shuffling side to side and stretching up and out to try to block each passing lane he might aim at.

Wake pauses as he comes up to check over Tiptoft. "You're good." meaning there's nothing grievious there. A shake of his head and he's looking to Holtz, letting the other pilot check in and out, as he keeps under Tiptoft. Like some middle fielder, looking for a way in. Though once the CIC man has percieved an opening, he's bolting trying to get in position for a sweet richochet recovery. Though the question will be, if Holtz sees it.

Tiptoft isn't nearly quick enough to block the inevitable ricochet, so instead he does the next best thing and fades back to guard the space between Wake and the head opposite his throwing arm. It's a veteran move, one that puts him in the perfect spot to intercept any ill-advised shot the CIC man might make into his zone. Of course, Thumper does leave the other head open: but to get it, Wake will have to throw across his body before Leo converges for the tackle. Rock and a hard place, much?

Holtz checks the ball quickly and takes a step forward. He does see Wake cut towards the boards, but Jess is too quick; there's no way for him to get the ball to his teammate without giving her the chance for an easy interception. To his mind, though, there's an easy enough solution… suddenly, he breaks forward, shoulder in front of him as he plows into Jess and tries to throw the ball around her. There's a jolt as he slams into her, though, and his hasty attempt at a throw goes high… and right towards Zachary.

At least Zachary was paying attention. After lighting up his cigarette, he glances upwards as the ball comes in, and catches it in his breadbasket with a gentle whompf. "..I believe I count as out of bounds." the Major offers with a smirk before he tosses the ball back towards Tiptoft. "Nice morning to be playing in the snow."

Wake looks towards Tiptoft and then the Major, when the ball heads out that direction. A shake of his head before he's snorting. "Good throw." And he's looking back to the big man infront of him. Looks like he will be guarding the tank-unless Holtz moves in to take over there. Well, assuming the game kicks back up, now with the Major in attendance.

Jess sets her feet and bends her knees and makes Holtz drive her backwards, but of course he is capable of that, and he powers out of the corner she's got him in, making enough space to get that throw off. She steadies herself with a hand on his shoulder that becomes a slap, a grin going with it before she's turning to get between the older pilot and any return passes. Until she sees Zachary has the ball and relaxes her guard instead, holding up a hand for it. "That it is, sir." Rock, plz?

Looks like that ricochet wasn't so inevitable after all. Leo shoots Wake a challenging smirk as he whaps the guy on the ass — hard. "You're frakking lucky Storms chucked it oh-bee," he hollers into the man's ear, the rumble of his deep bass voice audible even over the heaters' sustained buzzing. "That woulda been a pick for points for SURE, yeh?" The muscles of his bare arm flex as a hand whips upwards to pluck the Major's throw-in from the skies. The ball's tossed in Jess's direction with a hollered "PLAY ON, BABY!" — and then he's charging at Wake with shoulder lowered, aiming to bull-rush the man aside and clear some space in front of goal.

"Son, I coulda scored on your mother with you guarding me." Wake chides back, after the rather hard slap to his butt. There's a wince, but then he's back in play-and just in time to see Tiptoft coming. There's a bit of split second decison making, before the CIC officer is moving, like someone would in a bullfight. His hands move, in a way to direct Thumper and his rage charge in another direction. Hopefully sending him OB, and giving wake some time to come in and aid Holtz on the defense against Jess.

Holtz winces as his throw goes wide and right at the new arrival, but he relaxes when Zachary makes the catch. No harm, no foul. He smirks back at Jess, offering the other pilot a conspiratorial point of the finger as he trots into position for the next play. And looks like he's covering Nags again. The older pilot isn't quite quick enough to block Tiptoft's pass attempt, which looks to be right on the money, so he settles for something else; his arm sweeps out suddenly towards the woman, followed a moment later by his foot as he tries to first hook her and then trip her.

Zachary would take a seat, but with the snow piled up on the bleachers, he decides to remain in the 'coach box' to tug on his cigarette as he watches the younger pilots play and romp on the court. As he notices the escalation, he doesn't say anything.. yet.

And that's why Thumper was never allowed to play defense. The charging bull bites on Wake's fake, lunging forward to smash nothing but air — but such is his athleticism that he manages to arrest his forward progress after just two steps. With his thick head turned backwards, he tracks exactly where Wake is going — and sends his body flying backwards with a powerful flick of his thighs. His naked back arched, his stubby arms extended, he looks rather like a backstroke specialist taking a turn off the wall. And then both palms slam into a place he hopes Wake's ankles are about to be — to send the faster man sprawling and give Jess a one-on-one matchup against Holtz FOR THE WIN BABY AWW YEAH.

Jess catches the ball and breaks for the score, but gets hooked by Holtz. She stumbles at the trip, but the arm actually keeps her from going to ground. She twists to throw the momentum of the fall into a shoulder instead, free hand up to shove her forearm at Holtz's neck and muscle him away enough to get a shot off. FOR THE WIN(?)

Hard to guess what brings Cassie here. Maybe she's just here at the Pyramid courts in hopes for a familiar setting or maybe she's here hoping to get a pick-up game started. Whatever it is, she's at least dressed the part in a jersey from her favorite team and loose sweatpants, her hair pulled up into a loose ponytail. Imagine her pleased surprise when she notices others here already. Staying off to the side, she merely watches for now.

Wake's foot is caught, but the man is nimble on his feet. In what is clearly a tripping foul-the CIC officer manages to stagger out wildly a few steps, in the vague direction of the goal. If that thing doesn't go in. He's likely up for a rebound. That is, if he can remain on his feet.

Contact made, Tiptoft skids backwards past Wake's feet and into a nearby snowdrift, from which vulnerable spot he watches Jess's arcing shot fly through the air — and fly, and fly, and he can almost hear a game clock ticking down in his head…

Glancing over as Cassie comes up next to him, Zachary offers a nod of his head and a small chuckle. "I have no idea what the score is, but they seem to be having fun."

Holtz grunts as his maneuver half-backfires on him, and Jess is able to get her shot off. Stumbling a step, he tries to correct himself, but his foot picks the worst possible moment to slide across a patch of ice. He bucks, trying to catch his balance, but he's still tangled up with Jess. Unable to correct, he tumbles to the ground, dragging her with him if she's not able to disentangle herself in time.

The ball smacks against the rim of the opening. It bounces, bounces.. bounces.. and it finally falls in. "..goal." Zachary offers with a little smirk.

Jess is focused on her shot, which arcs through the air like a— glorious missile? or a majestic bird? precision laser?— like a pyramid ball that is flying through the air. It rattles off the siding and IN IT GOES. Sacrificing stability for follow-through, Jess fails to disentangle from Holtz and tumbles to the ground, shoulder smacking icy pavement hard. Ow. But she picks her head up and looks first to the ball and Zachary, and lifts a bruised arm into the air victoriously.

There's a look towards Zachary and then Cassie breaks out in a grin, her eyes bright. "Looks like they're doing well," she quips. While the game's going on she is content to stand and just watch. "I think the majority of the games I played with my brothers wound up left without a winner," she adds with a laugh. "We were too busy trying to take each other out to think about keeping score."

It's the smirk that Wake noticies on Zachary, more than the ball going in. There's a glance to the other officer, and the Intelligence officer makes his way over to the CAG and draws his pistols. "Cylon." he says before shooting him to death.


That does not happen at all. Instead what does happen, is a keening groan, followed by laughter, that has the CIC personel drop to his knees. "Damn." Mild dissapoint there-before the Lieutenant is coming back up, and brushing his knees. "Good game." called over towards Tiptoft, before he's walking over to shake Jess' hand. NO HANDS FOR YOU STORM.

And pandemonium breaks loose, thanks to the exertions of one man. "WOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screams Tiptoft from the ground, his arms pumping up and down in the snow. Delicate snowflakes scatter over his bare chest and the spectators while the massive man flaps about in a snowdrift near the head. Pushing himself upright, he offers the requisite post-game chestbump to Wake and Holtz both. "Damn fine play, boys," the big man says, his great face breaking into one of its too-rare smiles. "Whooo-WEE! Kept me up and GOOD, y'all!" Then, still grinning, he tries to envelop Jess in a strictly platonic and in no way provocative hug, which will lift her off her feet and swing her around in a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree arc if she doesn't respond by punching him in the face and dashing his hopes forever.

Zachary offers applause at the cheering and woo-hooing, as the Major finally offers the box that he was carrying in his arms. "Anyone want a tart? Made them this morning while waiting for Eden to wake up so I could let her know I was heading back shipside." he comments. Inside the box are six perfect little blackberry tarts.

"Not bad," Holtz says dryly to Jess as her arcing shot finally finds its target. That's game. He stays down on the ground for a second, collecting himself and brushing several flecks of wayward snow off his arms and chest. Finally, he's on his feet and moving, albeit a bit stiffly; he got knocked around pretty good, especially during those last few plays. A nod and shrug to Wake, followed by a "Well played" to Tiptoft and Jess.

Holtz instead gets a big ol sweaty slap to the back. One likely to leave a handprint. "Good game, Lieutenant." the CIC officer offers to his partner, before he is walking over to gather his shirt and thermal hoodie. Only then will he grouse for his coat. A glance and he's tossing shirts in people's direction. Like Jess' Shirt to Holtz and Tiptofts' shirt to Jess. Ya'll can sort.

Jess remains on the ground with her arms in the air for a moment before getting to her feet, offering Holtz and Wake handshakes and grinning, "Good game,"s. "We should do this again sometime," she suggests, "When we've scabbed over." She twists her arm to look at the bloody scrape down the back of it, and then gets hugged off her feet by Tiptoft, which is a little bemusing. She laughs and thumps him on the shoulder. "Yeah, good game, Thumps," she says, "That was fun." Back on her feet, she catches a shirt and doesn't really look at it yet, instead drifting Zach-wards, "Tarts?"

"Tarts. I bake when I'm trying to kill time." Zachary shrugs, setting aside the box, and decides to make with the introduction. "Major Zachary Sheperd, former CO of the Tophatters Rescue Squadron off of Orion and the new CAG. Folks call me Pie for short."

Tiptoft — still breathing heavily, but still smiling an endorphin-fueled smile that seems to get just a bit loopier at Jess's shoulder-thump — stumbles his way toward the nearest space heater, an undershirt a size too small for him dangling over his head. He squeezes himself into it anyway, and, having caught sight of himself in the metal reflection, turns to examine whether a L-sized garment accents his muscles better than his usual XL fare. Flex one. OH BABY. Flex two. THIS COULD WORK. Flex three. OHH wait what CAG shit stop it stop it. "Sir," the big man mumbles, snapping to attention. "Um. Yo."

"Those look good." While she looks like she might want to snag one for herself Cassie refrains, letting everyone else take one instead. At the mention of who he is she looks up, her head angling slightly to the side while she regards him. "CAG… huh. Well, congrats!"

Even though he was on the losing side, it felt good to get out and forget about all the other crap, so Holtz is in as good of spirits as anyone else as the game comes to a close. Handshakes and backslaps are accepted and distributed to all involved. He tries to put on the shirt he's given, only to find it's way too small and not cut quite right for his figure. It comes back off, but now it's all sweaty. Oops. He looks over to Jess, to whom Wake flung Holtz's patch-festooned bomber jacket. "Hey, that's mine," he protests. The shirt is balled up and thrust in her direction, along with an open hand. "Trade ya."

There's a glance to Tiptoft. "Good game.. Maybe I'll catch you all around sometime." Though likely when that will be is unknown. There's a pause as he zips off, and gives a brief wave over towards Zachary's direction. "Well..Congrats Sir. Lieutenant Thomas Wake-Intelligence." Likely the others did not know they were playing with the Ship's spook. "Good to meet you." comes the usual Aerilon drawl before he is nodding to the other pilots. Now, taking this time to extract himself and get inside. Maybe a hot cup of soup too to go with the ass kicking he just recieved.

"Carry on." Zachary offers, looking amused as Tiptoft goes from having fun to snapping around. "So, since I'm the new guy, I brought snacks." A chuckle at that and looks to Cassie. "Help yourself, there is enough for everyone. I had a big meal before I left home." he promises as he watches the game start to break up. Just the reaction he was fearing. "A pleasure, Lieutenant Wake." he greets, before he looks to everyone else. "I'm sorry, I am still matching names with faces. But I remember Tiptoft, he broke me and my wife's heart back in the playoffs a few years back with that last second full court goal."

Jess catches the jacket and looks at it, puzzled for a minute before Holtz calls for it. She laughs and starts to hand it over, then stops and reels it back in, eyeing the sweaty mess of her shirt skeptically. "But I'm not sure I want that back, now," she says, before tossing the jacket his way anyway. "Oh, new CAG? Nice to meet you, sir," she says, calling, "Bye, CIC Guy!" to the departing Wake before snagging herself one of those tarts.

"You the MAN, CIC Guy," echoes Thumper, raising a fist in solidarity before remembering that he probably has to continue saluting. So back that fist goes into a semblance of military posture until the CAG mentions Pyramid, which to the big man is rather like catnip. "Oh shit. You an NVC guy? Passion and Power, baby." The Northern Virgan Conference motto. "Which uni?"

Holtz offers a little comradely wave to Wake, now that he knows his former teammate's name. "Lieutenant Kurt Holtz. 'Storm'," he introduces himself for both Wake's and Zachary's benefit, tossing off a relaxed salute. "Trip-Sevens." Viper sticks forever, baby. "Too bad," Holtz retorts to Jess, tossing the now-stankified shirt at Jess' head. (But not before taking back his jacket.) He rolls his eyes at Tiptoft, but says nothing, seeing as he's now chewing on one of the proferred tarts.

Cassie smiles and takes one of the tarts which is then held in hand carefully, the treat treated as if it is a delicate flower and not a pastry. "Thanks. It looks good. I'll save it for later…" Prompted by the others and how they're introducing themselves to Zachary, she holds out a hand to the CAG. "Cassie Pitera. Callsign's Redeye. Fly Vipers."

Zachary misunderstands the question, presumably. "I'm a Taxi and Ambulance driver - formerly part of Leonis CSAR." Yes, he's one of those speciality oh shit they know their way around a stick pilots. He accepts the proffered hand from Cassie. "Pleasure to meet you, Redeye, Storm." he greets each by their callsigns. "Before CAG, I flew the mission in support of the Avery Hall Marines."

"Nags," Jess introduces herself, "Lieutenant Jess Karlsson. Lucky Strikes also. This is delicious, sir." She means the tart, presumably, which she has forgone getting dressed to take a bite of, letting that shirt air out over her shoulder. Whatever, she's from Aquaria, this weather is nothing.

Leo shrugs, stepping forward to grab a pair of tarts from the box. His palm is big enough to hold both of them at once — but he'll eat them one at a time, throwing them back like the bite-sized snacks they are. And as far as introductions go: "They call me Thumper these days. Viper Stick, also with the Strikes. Got aboard a few months back. Transfer, from the Ragin' Rams aboard Solaria." Spoken as he reaches for a third tart to annihilate. Which he does.

Finally recovering his own tanktops from wherever they ended up, Holtz pulls them on over his head, followed by his jacket. He gives a little shiver; now that they're out of the Pyramid court and no longer under the warm wash of the heatlamps, the cold is suddenly noticeable again. Holtz nods soberly at the mention of Avery Hall, but even a reminder of the holocaust isn't enough to dampen his mood at the moment. He snorts as Thumper starts gorging himself.

"Make sure you save some for the others, Thumper." Zachary offers in a mild chuckle as he folds his hands into his pockets. "I didn't mean to interupt your game, I just wanted to meet some of the people I haven't had a chance to yet."

The CAG is given a smile before she looks out over the others as well as the weather, the latter getting her to shiver. "We really need to get a court on the ship," she muses before turning to leave. "I hate the cold so going to head back to the ship, guys. Will get caught up with everyone once I feel like my tits are not going to fall off."

"Mmmmgph," the big man mumbles. "I mean, my bad, sir. Shit's tasty, yeh?" Tiptoft bends down to grab some snow between his hands, which he'll rub together to clean them of buttery crumbs. With that, he stumps off to the heat lamp to retrieve the rest of his clothes. Now that the adrenaline is starting to wear off, he begins to feel the pain of the several hard hits he took during the game itself. Soon, he has to prop himself up against a burner to prevent himself from keeling over. And when he jams a (properly-sized) undershirt over his torso, his flexing muscles break the delicate scab that's formed on his bleeding shoulder. Bugger.

Jess licks blackberry off a finger and brushes crumbs off her palms before pulling on her jacket, shirt balled up and tucked in a pocket. "I should get in too," she says, "I've got the sims booked in not too long. Nice to meet you, sir," she says to Zachary, "And thanks for the snack. See you boys later," she waves to Holtz and Tiptoft before heading off towards the LZ.

"Go ahead. I'm going to head back up myself, I have a lot to take care of." He glances back to the apartment one more time, and then Zachary starts to walk towards the LZ himself. "I think I can even drive us back up." he comments with a grin.

Holtz is still hobbling a bit, but he seems in better shape than Tiptoft, at least. "Better get back to the ship, Thumper," he calls out, "and have the docs take a look at all that." He too is moving with the rest of them towards the landing area, but he pauses to wait for Tiptoft.

Finally managing to dress himself in what he's fifty percent sure are his clothes, Thumper grabs his Pyramid ball in one hand and his bright orange shovel in the other. It's slung over his uninjured shoulder before, with a curt head-jerk in his fellow pilots' direction, he trudges off into the snowy expanse. "Gotta stow this motherfrakker first," he mutters — but then, seeing Nags moving the other direction, he abruptly changes course, shovel clattering to the ground for a soon-to-be-very-annoyed swabbie to pick up. (In his mind, this is a very subtle maneuver.) "Yo Nags, hold up!" he hollers. With a quick wave in the senior pilots' direction, he too makes for that LZ.

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