you gotta fight for your right to party

[episodically]

» WHO? all ya'll!
» WHEN? sometime after the 15th
» WHERE? everywhere
» WHAT? house party!
» WARNINGS? i'd say blanket warning for language, maybe light violence, anything else, i'll update.

[ jim kirk wasn't the captain of this station. he wasn't even a ranking officer but he knows enough about people to know that, if you put them through the wringer over and over again, they're going to break without some sort of downtime. and jim's not about to be on a station where everyone's breaking down. no, he hadn't come back from death to die again.

so, he goes back to his roots. he goes back to the days where he'd spent all of his time in bars, hitting on pretty girls and boys, and getting into fights. maybe possibly they can cross out fights tonight but the rest of the stuff? nah, jim wants it all.

he trawls his way through the station to see what they have, first of all. and then he gets to work. the replicators don't serve great booze but it's booze nonetheless and he gets those flowing, filling bottles and glasses and sliding them out for anyone to have. he fiddles with the lights in the bar to make it more appropriate and even asks this new ai on board for some music. if that doesn't work, everyone's just going to be treat to him singing.

then, he pulls out chairs and benches from the rooms and lines the halls. he wants everyone to be together, to talk to each other and the halls seem like the most well traveled place. he draws signs that lead people to the pool where he's tossed a bunch of small things in to take the place of beach balls and toys. he even suggests chicken fights because who can resist a good chicken fight?

is it sacrilegious to see up makeshift twister in the chapel? oh well because that's where it is. dancing, he decides, is best for observation deck so he asks for a little more music filtered in there because who wouldn't want to dance with that beautiful backdrop?

on the command deck, jim rigs up some lights, making it more apt for a party and sets up a few tables with cards and other random things to signify money. if people want to do some gambling, lose their shirts, jim's not going to stop you. he prefers strip poker, really, but there are youngsters around so behave. somewhat. ringing the room, he finds spots to set up arm wrestling tables because who doesn't want to show off their strength? not jim, he knows so many people would beat him but maybe other people want to grab the title of 'strongest on the station.' jim will make you a medal and everything.

he wants to do something with the library but he doesn't want to wreck it. so, poetry readings. there's no mic but he does set up a chair to act as a stage and even pushes various other chairs around it to act as an audience. don't get too wild in here. the nonexistent librarian won't like it.

lastly, he finds himself in the hangar. there are shuttles in there that he doesn't want to break but it's a big space so fuck it, he goes for a fight club type atmosphere. people need to get the tension out somehow and while fucking likes bunnies would be ideal, asking for an orgy tonight would be too much. so, he draws chalk outlines of various rings for various different matches. he makes rules that say this isn't till the death, be fair, no hitting below the belt and, if jim were to get into the ring, you weren't allowed to mess up his hair.

he was the party organizer, he got to make the rules!

once everything seemed to be set up, he just started knocking on doors at random to get people out of their rooms and out into the open. this station was stupid but he wasn't going to let things fall apart without a fight. ]

---

[ it's a party and it's open for everyone!! post your tl's, tag around to others and just enjoy yourself. there's no sinister motive here except getting that sweet, sweet cr. if you want to wildcard something being at the party, plz feel free to do that within reason, of course! hit me up at spoonishly for questions/plotting! ]

Comments

james t. kirk • star trek • ota

[episodically]

001 ➤ two pina coladas

[ jim's pretty damn pleased with himself. no, it's not ego, it's not arrogance, he's just pleased that he was able to make a party work in a station that was pretty much falling apart around them. will it go off well? who the hell knows but at least he'd tried.

he starts himself off in the bar, grabbing a glass filled to the brim with amber alcohol. it's not great but it'll do the job. once he'd got the booze flowing, he slides into a seat across from someone and grins widely. ]

So, what's your sign?

[ god, how cheesy was that? but, it's as good an icebreaker as any and it's not like he sounds serious at all. ]

002 ➤ water wings

[ jim's been spending an inordinate amount of time in the pool lately but at least it's clean. at least it's something that makes him feel like he's not in the middle of space, stranded and possibly drawing out time until he goes back to his home and dies.

so, he's going to swim.

stripped down to his shorts, he's splashing around the pool, chatting to anyone who might be around and trying to urge others in who are one the fence about the whole thing. ]

Come on, get on my shoulders. We'll find someone to fight.

003 ➤ dance dance dance

[ so, maybe this isn't exactly the type of dancing that jim's used to. most of the time, he'd been about the pressed against someone tight, grinding against them and getting them both so turned on that they'd find some dark corner to disappear into for awhile.

he can't really do that here. it's still fun, it's still letting yourself get a little loose and dance without really knowing how to dance, though. it's just a different crowd here and he's not going to just grind up on anyone. no, he just sidles in front of someone at random and falls into step with them. ]

Hope I'm not interrupting?

004 ➤ wildcard

[ choose your own adventure! i'll go with the flow. ]

003.

[oddbod]

[She's not even dancing, really; it takes more than a couple of vodka tonics to persuade her into anything more than swaying a bit in public. Besides, standing near the windows with her drink in hand and watching the party stutter into life is plenty fun, thank you.

When Jim sidles in, though, she can't help but break into a smile. The hectic last few weeks on the station had put a few kinks in her plans for a second date, but her feelings are still crystal clear in the way her eyes scan him.]

Heya, stranger.

001!

[setpoint]

[Mako's not really one for this whole party thing. Truth be told, she's a workaholic nerd, and she spends more time with engine blocks than with people, but Raleigh told her she should take a break, so here she is. When Jim slides in across from her and throws that question at her, she tilts her head and blinks, caught off guard enough to answer instinctively.]

Taurus.

[Then she frowns.]

Why do you ask?

[Poor Jim.]

001

[kanyounot]

[ There was a time when Kanan lived a pretty wild life. Booze, bars, fighting, whatnot. He did it all. Then, a number of years ago, he met a pretty girl and he's more or less been on the straight and narrow since. Not for any particular reason, aside from the fact that said pretty girl likes him better when he's sober. And, well, he likes him better when he's sober, too.

But, in the interest of being sociable, he's got a glass of something in front of him that he's nursing. At least no one's likely to ask him why he's not drinking this way.

He does raise an eyebrow at the stranger's sudden appearance, and question. Even above the mask he's got covering his eyes, Jim can probably see that eyebrow go up. ]

Uh, you might have to elaborate on that a bit. Sign?

2

[adjy]

[ she's watching people play in the water and she wants in. there's something childlike about it that's attractive even if she'd never had much time for fun like this in her young life. she's down to a t-shirt and her underwear, legs dangled into the pool as jim comes by. his question confuses her, but she finds herself smiling anyway. ]

Why do we have to fight anyone?

001

[senateur]

[ The sudden arrival of the smiling man (the organizer of these festivities, if she's not mistaken) is unexpected but not at all unwelcome. Padmé has been trying to meet as many of the station's residents as possible over the last few weeks, in between trying to do her own investigation into the mysteries of the place. The party has already proven beneficial to that end, so she returns his smile with one of her even while her brow furrows in confusion. ]

I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean. My sign?

2

[morethan084]

[Since there were no bathing suits provided here, Daisy opts to just strip down to her underwear like others have. At least she had some from back home now because the ones provided here were not at all flattering.

It's been a long time since she's played chicken, so when Jim offers, she can't help but laugh.]

Fine, but we better not lose.

[This would be the worst time ever for the gravity to fail. Waiting for him to swim over to the edge so she could get onto his shoulders, Daisy only lets go of the edge of the pool once he has a good enough grip on her.]

[onlydoubts]

[ Bodhi, down to a t-shirt and shorts splashes his feet in the water and regards Jim with a raised brow. the remaining metal of his arm glints in the lighting, but he's given up on keeping it hidden. ]

And why would I do that?

001.

[notyourrookie]

[Wash raises an eyebrow at the man who sits across from him, immediately suspicious.]

My sign? What's that supposed to mean?

frank aka space dad

[oorah]

1. BAR

[ he's perhaps more inclined towards this party than he would have been at any other time, but last month was a lot. especially after his personal illness the month before that. so frank things he's owed a chill time. and he might also be hanging out to make sure nothing too horrific happens since we all remember what happened last time there was a party on board (not counting all the minor drinking parties frank totally pretends don't go on.) he'll be at the bar nursing a drink and watching everyone else dance. he's dressed in the new uniform the station made for him, a version of the reverie terminal jumpsuit but in black and tailored to fit him well. his name is across his breast CASTIGLIONE and he's wearing a black beanie with the reverie terminal insignia on it. apparently, he's honorary crew? it feels more familiar than it should even if he still has no idea what kind of people they were. ]

2. GYM

[ he'll play chicken, sure. the second frank jumps in (in shorts he found ok don't worry), so does max and he can't help but laugh at the dogs antics. he's paddling around the shallows but the usually quiet dog starts whining every time his paws are too far to touch the ground. he waits until frank puts him back on solid ground then swims out all over again, shrieking and crying though he's obviously having a good time. frank will totally offer his shoulders to anyone who wants to play though, he's nice like that. he's also slightly self-conscious of the scars mapping his chest, back and legs that usually aren't exposed by everyday life on the station. he won't say anything if people look, but he's trying to stay mostly underwater for that reason alone. ]

3. COMMAND

[ frank has been carving poker chips out of soap for months now and he arrives with them wrapped in a t-shirt to spill out over the table with lifted brows. apollo kept telling him this night was coming and then things kept happening instead so it would get put off. and now apollo isn't here. it gives him pause even as he slides into a seat and pushes a hand back through his hair. ]

Someone wanna deal me in?

4. WILDCARD

[ if you challenge him to arm wrestle, he'll probably let you win. twister is a complete disaster sorry if he crushes you when he inevitably falls. for the poetry reading, he sits at the front of the group with his legs crossed, max's big block head in his lap. what? he likes poetry don't make a thing out of it!!! just be happy he doesn't have his guitar.

feel free to find him all over the party/station and do whatever, he's feeling himself. ]

001.

[oddbod]

[Clara swivels her stool to face Frank, mock indignation on her face.]

Whose arm to I have to twist to get a jumpsuit as nice as that?

[It's a "hello", and a compliment. Long time, no pester.]

twister, bc the idea is funny to me

[disequilibria]

[ by the time ava makes it to the chapel and the makeshift twister game, her hair is damp but almost dry after her time in the pool, she's fully dressed and more than a little tipsy. that may just be the reason why she joins the game. that, and it seems normal. it seems fun.

she's trying to do normal and fun while she can. while she's solid and painfree.

she doesn't remain entirely pain free, though: it hurts a bit when frank (tall and broad in the shoulders) loses his footing and lands on top of her. it hurts a bit, but mostly it's solid and he doesn't go through her and she doesn't go into the ground, her cells remaining together. bodily integrity intact. that should be normal, but it isn't, not to her. ]

Ouch. [ she says, but her tone is surprisingly pleased. ]

takeshi kovacs • altered carbon • ota

[resleeves]

001 ➤ alcohol break

[ it wasn't a true party until someone took their clothes off and kovacs figured the place that was most likely to happen would be in the fucking bar, surrounded by shitty beer so that's where he was. his feet were up on a chair and he was leaning back in another, downing gulp after gulp of alcohol down like it was orange juice.

it tasted like piss but it was better than nothing. his awesome pink backpack was on the table nearby and he kept peering inside of it like something would suddenly appear. ]

This guy order any strippers for this party?

002 ➤ fight me

[ now this -- this was more kovacs' thing. bancroft loved to show off his prizes and he'd had to go a few rounds in carnage's death dome so he was well practiced in the art of fighting for spectacle. he'd stripped off his shirt and was circling around the perimeter waiting for someone that might dare take him on. ]

Come on. Everyone here a chickenshit?

003 ➤ two left feet

[ he doesn't know how he's ended up here. he's drunk and a little bruised so dancing is the last thing on his fucking mind but he's here, watching everyone else twirl around and gyrate and throw their hands in the air like there wasn't a fucking care in the world. occasionally, someone eyed him like they might try and get him to dance and he just glares, shakes his head. ]

Don't even fucking think about it.

004 ➤ wildcard

[ choose your own adventure! i'll go with the flow on anything! ]

001.

[disequilibria]

You could always do the honours yourself.

[ ava has a drink and she's - not relaxed, precisely, but more relaxed than she's been in a long time. nothing hurts, which feels utterly miraculous still.

she's also, quite possibly, a bit tipsy. ]

[rickitikitarr]

1. A drink now and again

He isn't on board the partying spirit, exactly, but he recognizes the effort that's gone in and he allows himself to be swept up in the momentum. Ricki takes a drink, and a space not too near the wall, and chats in a voice just loud enough to raise the volume in the room a little bit. He knows how to work a crowd, and as tired as they are the night is likely to be either completely funereal or an extremely good excuse to blow off some steam.


2. And then a bad idea

Ricki toes at one of the chalk circles on the floor with amusement, wondering what exactly is going to come of this and whether or not it could possibly be any good.

"Want to rip the bandaid?" He asks, over his shoulder. "Someone has to go first."

He is not as scared of the other people on this boat as he should be.

camina drummer • the expanse • ota

[pashang]

one, the bar.

( this is bridging the delicate gap between 'not wanting to be seen in a vulnerable position' and 'not wanting to miss a party' in a pretty explicit way. it's not that she's worried she'd be missing out on something particularly exciting if she just stayed in her room and felt miserable, it's that she's hardly been here compared to holden and the rest of them – pashang, compared to everyone on the station, whether she's met them elsewhere or not – and she doesn't want to miss anything important. call it f.o.m.o.

drummer arrives at the party alone, determined as a person can look while scooting themselves along on makeshift crutches. it's taken her almost an hour to get down here at all, and supporting herself exclusively on her arms started to wear after a few minutes. it's hardly flattering, but her only other option would be to crawl, and that's even worse. she makes a beeline for the bar, and the expression on her face is about as clear as she's going to make it before she moves to physical violence, that she won't hear a word about this, and she doesn't need any help. there's beads of sweat dotted on her forehead and temples; her face is a grim mask of determination. it's hardly a party look.

she helps herself to a whiskey and stands slouched against the surface of the bar, arms folded hard across her chest, looking about as casual as she can manage. )

two, the pool.

( the pool seems like a more comfortable option. she can't bring her drink in since she needs the grip of both hands for the crutches. rolling up the legs of her jumpsuit, she eases herself down to sit on the edge with her feet in the pool.

it's a relief. she won't admit it. )

three, wildcard.

( hit me up on bunburying if you wanna hash out something else! )

pool

[pampa]

[ it was one thing talking to her on the smartwatch. it's another thing entirely to see her in person. he's in his full garb from ceres, a way she hasn't seen him before. his suit, his star helix holster and belt, his gun, his hat. all the accoutrement of a detective because that's who he is here. just a ghostly shadow of a man he left back on that rock. he'd been watching her, but knowing she'd never accept his help hadn't offered it. instead he crouches down next to her now and offers her a drink from one hand before sitting down with his. he still doesn't trust the water and stays out of it himself, folding his legs as he glances over at her. ]

How's the party? Not bad for an Earther, right?

Klaes Ashford - OTA

[patriotnow]

Command Deck

[In his younger years the fight rings in the hangar would have been more Ashford’s scene: an easy way to blow off steam and to get the contact high of having defeated someone with pure, brute force (or perhaps pure brute force with a pinch of less than fair tactics. Hey, a pirate has to have some tricks up his sleeves, no?) but now he’s content with the card tables. Hell, he’ll even go for the arm wrestling if someone has that particular itch to scratch.

He can be found perusing the room, stopping here and there to watch a match or comment on a strategy between swigs of some species of drink he can’t even describe but that he’ll keep drinking despite the aftertaste being something akin to the taste of two-day old blood dried in one’s mouth. After all, he’s had worse to drink out on the edges of the belt. The mettle of his stomach has been primed for this.]

Nakangepensa. Long time since I’ve seen a worse move than that.

[He might nudge you with a boney elbow and nod to one of the tables to indicate a match he’s been watching. And maybe then he’ll cast you a mischievous look]

You wanna try?

Hangar

[While he has no intention of getting into one of the rings himself, he certainly sees no harm in watching a fight. He’d gone to the hangar with the thought that perhaps there’d even be a show worth betting on. However, it might be obvious from the look on his face that he’s less than impressed.

A fight with little to no stakes is not really a fight worth watching at all.

Though he’ll wait a little longer…maybe the alcohol will start to liven things up.]

Back on Ceres ‘fight’ actually mean something.

hangar

[pampa]

He's not even sure why he's here, honestly. He had been in the business of breaking up fights, not watching them. Though he's gotten into a fair few himself, it was never for sport. He is so trapped in his thoughts that he doesn't even notice Ashford standing next to him until the other man speaks up and Miller frowns.

"On Ceres, 'fight' means dead."

ghost/ava starr | mcu

[disequilibria]

[ there's a lot of shit going on: she's on a space station, she has no idea where or how she'll get more quantum energy to keep herself solid, to keep herself alive, she has no idea how she got here or who any of the people here with her are. that's not great.

what is great, however, is that for the first time in decades, she's entirely solid (or almost entirely; every now and then, part of her flickers in and out of existence for a split second, too brief to be sure that it's happening, but she feels it) and for the first time in so long, she's not in pain.

she intends to make the best of it. she intends to make the best of it and so here she is at this party.

ava visits THE BAR, sipping on a drink and watching the people. like everyone else, she's in a jumpsuit. her hair's in two braids, blonde tips long grown out. she's not here to gather intel, which had been the main reason for visiting bars before.

at some point, a little tipsy but far from drunk, she visits THE SWIMMING POOL, lowering herself into the water in the station's nondescript underwear. there are some scars on her body, but very few and none overly obvious. for a life of espionage and assassinations, her skin is smooth. one of the advantages, she guesses, of her condition. not that it outweighed the bad stuff. if anyone asks her to climb on their back, though, she'll shake her head. ] Nah, I'm good. [ the water's nice, but she's still getting used to solidity and there's no telling what'd happen if she went under in the deep end. ]

Haruto Saitou | OC

[neuralnet]

Haruto has never been invited to a party before. And, he supposes, by some definitions he still hasn't. He doesn't think it really counts when everyone on the station has been invited. But he'll take the chance anyway. Mostly observing, watching people dance and drink-- if anyone offers him alcohol, he'll wave it off with a quick, "Oh, no thank you. It doesn't do anything to me and I don't like the taste."

He spends most of his time either in the hallways or on the observation deck. But once he hears there's poetry reading in the library, he goes there. For a while he just sits in the audience, but eventually he gets up to the 'stage' and reads some haiku he's just made up on the spot. It's a bit different to make up haiku in English, but he at least does better than early neural networks.

"Reverie Station
is having a big party.
Everyone have fun!"

[devilmind]

The Operator was invited to a party a very, very, very long time ago. They think it went quite well. The Orokin would have probably disagreed.

They’re anticipating significantly less bloodshed this time around, though aside from that, they're not sure what to expect. Those in attendance are mostly humans, drinking, chatting, dancing, and occasionally sparring. The Operator wishes they could join in with that last activity, though they don’t trust this flimsy body not to fall to pieces at the first blow. Instead they stand on the sidelines, sipping cautiously at a drink they look way too young for. How did they get that anyway?

Overhearing a nearby attendee refuse a drink of his own, they look over curiously.

“Is it supposed to do something to you?”

Tyl Regor | Warframe | OTA, and fashionably late

[biochemastery]

Fight!

Fighting rings. Like the kind lancers set up so they can bash their skulls together until they go numb, a pointless exercise. Let him at it, by the Queens and all their kuva, he wants to hit something. He's only been here a few days, and he's ready to pull someone apart!

What? No killing? No blows below the belt? What does that second one even mean?

Oh, right. Humans keep soft parts down there. Shame no one's going to try hitting him there, then, he'd like to see someone break their foot. Still, he has a wildly unfair advantage regardless. His limbs are solid metal and polymer. He doesn't have his combat hands or accessories, but the smaller pair will do. And the rest of him--well, he's still recovering from fighting Tenno. But apart from all the bruises and scrapes and sutures hidden under his form-fitting bodysuit, it's all Grineer muscle. And he has a lot of it.

He steps forward into the ring, metal feet ticking across the deck. "So," his voice almost purrs. "Who wants to go first?"


Alcohol!

Regardless of outcome, he'll eventually be found at the periphery of the party. He has two glasses of clear liquid, and has touched neither of them. Instead, he appears to be doing some math. "Already took the antibiotics. Dextrose is sorted. Need ten percent ethanol, starting with..." He glances down at one of the glasses. "I have no idea. Not laboratory grade, probably under eighty percent. Could go get a scale from the lab to check specific weight. Could go get sterile tools. Too much work, though."

"So, if that's at most eighty percent," He picks up one glass, "I need..." And carefully pours some of its contents into the other. "Approximately that. Close enough. Does it need mixing? Ngh. It'll be close enough to safe anyway. Less than eight mils per kilogram, it'll be fine. Right!"

He unhooks one end of a tube attached to his suit, sticking it into the glass. The liquid begins to drain.

Drinking is such a pedestrian way to get drunk. Why bother with the digestive system when you can skip ahead straight to the blood?

alcohol!

[devilmind]

Regor might feel a pair of golden eyes on him as he drains the alcohol. The Operator has figured out that the liquid is an intoxicant by now and is watching with a mix of curiosity and amusement as their foe dumps two glasses of it directly into his bloodstream.

Such a shame they don’t have a Warframe here. Even if Regor drank himself to a stupor, this pathetic little body would probably need days just to chip through his armor. Too bad. It would’ve been a fun assassination otherwise.

Still, might as well prod for potential weakness while they can. They approach carefully, feigning concern.

“Is that safe?”

raleigh becket • pacific rim • ota

[wentnuclear]

001. bar

[ This seems like as good a place to start out as any... Raleigh hasn't been the life of the party type for quite awhile (five and a half years, to be exact) but he does remember parties. They typically start with booze, and although he's slowly readjusting to engaging with people again, he knows he could use the help of a drink or two to relax a little. Replicator alcohol is disgusting so he gives a sniff to find what seems strongest, then just does a couple shots of that. Slams them, just getting it down so he doesn't have to taste it. Still, he's got a disgusted grimace as he turns away from the bar, eyes scanning the crowd to decide who he wants to approach first. Should anyone go for the bottle he just did he feels obligated to warn them off... ]

That stuff's like paint thinner, be careful.

002. gym

[ Maybe it's no surprise Raleigh winds up following the signs to the gym. He usually spends a good chunk of his time there anyway, working out, or in the library reading. There's something going on there, too, he's heard -- it seems like Jim set up something to do in every common location -- and maybe he'll swing by later, but when he enters the gym he hears laughter and shouting coming from the pool area and that sounds like fun, honestly. He strolls right up to the edge, grinning at the antics and not caring that he's getting splashed watching the game of chicken going on.

You know what, fuck it. He's feeling a little looser, he wants to play too, and glances around for a likely partner as he unzips his jumpsuit and reaches down to get his boots off. ]

Team up with me?

003. observation deck

[ When he drifts to the observation deck, hair still damp from the pool and smelling faintly of chlorine, he's not certain what to expect. He'd just heard "dancing," which isn't necessarily his thing and could tilt less or more so depending on the music. Luckily for him, when he steps out of the elevator the song that reaches him is soft and slow. Maybe it's switching up every couple of songs or something, to appeal to everyone, but this is more where he's at right now. He'd have to reach pretty far back into his memory to keep up with something hard and fast and close, and isn't sure he'd even want to anymore. But this?

Yeah, this he can do. He sends Mako a quick message to meet him up here and then moves to the window-side of the deck, leaning back on the rail to let himself settle a little. Anyone is welcome to ask him to dance. ]

004. wild card

[ Raleigh can also be found just wandering the halls deciding where to go next, observing a game or two happening on the command deck, or listening to the readings in the library. The only place he won't be found tonight is the hangar, he doesn't fight for the sake of fighting. When he fights to train, it's with people he trusts. When he drops by the chapel, he can in fact be talked into twister but he's not amazing at it. ]

003!

[setpoint]

[Mako has been wandering in and out of the festivities. Parties aren't really her thing, but there's not much else to do on the station, so she's doing her best. She's in the library, pouring over a stack of books, when she gets Raleigh's text. It takes her a few minutes to get down to the observation deck, and she smiles instinctively when she spots him.]

Is everything alright?

Mike Slattery | OTA

[charlieoscar]

001 - Command

Of course this is where Mike is. Anyone who's spent any measure of time with the man, shouldn't be surprised to find him on the Command Deck, increasingly mangled cigar clamped between his teeth, smoothly shuffling and dealing cards. It's practically a stereotype, but in all the best ways.

Some things still make sense.

And Mike's certainly enjoying himself. Peering around the table with a smile, and clever, measuring eyes.

"Wilds? What are we, ten?"


002 - Dancing

This is less expected, and not least of all surprised, is the man himself. Mike had only been trying to get from A to B, and hadn't planned on getting caught on the impromptu dancefloor. He tries to nimbly extract himself - holding up a staying hand, shaking his head, and apologizing as politely as possible - but was that....

No. No, Captain Mike Slattery doesn't blush.


003 - Hanger

And all is right with the world again as Mike hangs to one side and takes in the show. That said, he still shakes his head and declines when prompted to take to the floor himself.

"Hard heads are wasted on the young," he muses, humor flashing in his eyes.

1

[oorah]

[ frank lifts an eyebrow, watching the play with the same incredulous expression as mike. ]

I dunno, do ten-year-olds cheat?

padmé amidala | star wars

[senateur]

» oo1. at the bar

[ The last few weeks have been hard, incredibly so, and while a party of any sort won't help them uncover the mysteries of the station and get them all closer going home, Padmé isn't blind to the benefits of such activity either. She's been a leader for long enough to know that sometimes people need to forget their hardships for just a little while in order to steady themselves.

The bar seemed like a decent enough place to start the evening, so Padmé finds herself a glass of amber liquid and takes a seat at the counter, wanting to be at the center of traffic in order to watch the others who filter through the room. Every so often she even speaks to someone, offering a charming smile and pleasant start to the conversation. ]

You look as though you're enjoying the party.

» oo2. by the pool

[ It's been far too long since she last went swimming. The water has a strange chemical smell, but none of the others seem to mind it, so Padmé slips off her boots and rolls up the legs of her uniform to above her knees. For now, she sits on the ledge and lets her feet dangle in, not minding the water that sloshes up whenever someone comes nearby. It's only water, and she's enjoying watching the others play their game.

Eventually, she looks to whoever is nearest and asks a question she's been pondering for a while. ]

Do things like this happen often here?

» oo3. wildcard

[ Do your best/worst or hit me up at taintedcrimson to chat. ]

[adjy]

[ jyn is sitting on the edge too, in just a tshirt and her panties. she's scared to see if she remembers how to swim, especially with so many people watching, but this feels nice - familiar. the voice startles her and she glances over, when did padmé get here? ]

Usually only before the next catastrophe. I suppose we should enjoy it while we can.

bodhi rook | ota

[onlydoubts]

pool

[ sitting at the edge of the pool, Bodhi is sitting in shorts and a t-shirt, legs being the only part of him in the water. he's not a very good swimmer, just having learned how to do so recently so you won't catch him in the deeper end. consider him cheering on the matches that are going on. ]

Oh, come on - that wasn't sportsmanlike!

[ or getting heated about them. ]

command

[ for the first few card games, Bodhi chooses to watch as this isn't one he knows the rules of. but it's the gambling he's interested in, even if they're not betting for real credits. and after a few matches -- ]

Alright, deal me in. I've never played before, but I think I've got the rules down.

[ shame that nobody here has a sabaac deck, now that'd be right up for him... ]

bar

[ and he's sitting in the bar, towards the end of the night? day? does it matter? Bodhi is nursing a glass of something that's a bit too sharp for his liking, but it's getting the job done. not to mention, he's more or less watching others. at first he'd not been sure that this was such a good idea, but with everything going on, things that had happened..

they needed this.

he's fairly talktative, more so than usual. maybe it's the alcohol, or his mood. who knows. ]

wildcard

[ he's surprisingly good at twister, but not so great at arm wrestling, even if his dominant arm is infused with metal. ]

bar!

[biochemastery]

[Maybe he eyeballed the dosage wrong when he set up the ethanol IV. Maybe his liver got fed up with all the combat he's been through recently, so it's taking a Me Day. But whatever the reason, the world's gotten quite a bit wobblier than he anticipated. And that's a problem, he now realizes. Normally, he'd have a nice, solid pair of feet to keep him steady, but here? No. He did not arrive on Reverie Terminal with his walking feet. No, he only has his running feet. They're fashionably curved. Beautifully built for acceleration. Not easy to balance on.

Which is a problem, because he wants to get up. Why? Not important, he just does. And you know, he doesn't feel like being undignified about it. No stumbling for him, that's for uncreative minds!

Instead, he picks a spot in line of sight, and teleports, catching himself against the bar when he arrives, his metal hands hitting the surface with a loud smack. There! Victory!

Oh look, a human! Sonofa horoy, every rock you turned over had another one under it. It was incredible.] There's so many of you, how do you all stand it?

Agent Washington | Red vs Blue | OTA

[notyourrookie]

001.
[The alcohol tastes like the kind of stuff that Niner would bring back to the ship on supply runs. They weren't supposed to drink in case it skewed whatever results the Director and the Counsellor were looking for, but when had that ever stopped a bunch of soldiers stuck in the middle of space?

Wash slides into a seat, picking one where he can see most of the room, keep an eye on things, and then pours himself a glass of what claims to be whiskey but might just be cheap bathtub vodka. He stares at it for a moment and then downs it.]

Well, at least it might kill me.


002
[This is more like it. Wash stalks around the various combat rings, keeping an eye on the people already there. They're supposed to be allies, thrown together by chance, but who knows how long that's gonna last. In the meantime, better plan to get an idea of what people are capable of.

Eventually he drifts over to one of the rings.]

I'll have a go.


Wild Card
[Snag him for cards? Drag him into the pool? Up to you!]

Garion of Riva | Belgariad/Malloreon

[why_me]

Where has Garion been? What's he been doing?

Well, the thing of it is that he's been working.

Not on what most people would consider working. Working on something deeper, something just he can feel and see. He's been working on trying to understand the way this place works, trying to get a feel for the difference in the world around him, the 'ground' under his feet... all of it.

And unfortunately for him, well, he happens to be part of a family who can get absorbed in things for literal centuries without interruption. Or maybe 'fortunately'. He's missed some crazy %h!t.

For the moment, though, he's finally rejoined the rest of the folks on board and he's wandering around the party a little. He spends a decent amount in the bar obviously, but the card games call him for a moment even if Silk had been very clear he wasn't to play any of them if he wanted to make friends. The arm wrestling gets a glance but he's never been the type to enjoy competition without a point so he just observes and moves on.

He actually spends a decent amount of time in the library listening to the poetry readings. It reminds him of listening to his grandfather when he was younger, and of listening to various bards and storytellers who've visited the Citadel over the years. At least here, he doesn't have to worry about people getting details of his own exploits completely wrong to a worrying degree.

Twister just has him baffled, but he'll spend a decent time there trying to figure it out.

The hanger however, is where he's going to end up and he might be interested in getting into the ring if anyone's up for it. He's an Alorn, after all. If there isn't drink, song, and fistfights, he's doing it wrong.

library!

[wentnuclear]

Raleigh lingers in the library as well, once he realizes what's going on there. It's his main haunt besides the gym anyway -- at home, before being called back for Pitfall, he'd buried himself in this kind of thing. Language study, music, whatever was on tv, yes. But also books. Whatever he could get his hands on, while working on the wall. He'd devour them, lying awake listening to audiobooks or just turning pages by lamplight all through the night, losing himself in a story instead of his nightmares. He'd never really read poetry for leisure unless it was all he could get, and finds that it's nicer to listen to than it is to read. There's a rhythm, not something you can get lost in but just right for something like this.

As he scans the small group gathered there as he lingers at the back of the room to listen, too, and spots someone interesting. A familiar face, you could say, that he's been curious about since Mako mentioned its existence. How they haven't crossed paths yet is a testament to his failure at socializing, for all the strikes he's made.

When it seems there's a break in the readings, no one standing before them at the moment, he approaches curiously. There are plenty of seats near the other man, but Raleigh hesitates before sitting in one. Glances at it as if asking permission to join first.

"Garion, I take it?"