Doomed, maybe?
Doomed, maybe?
Summary: Jane tells Drey she's going to become a Viper pilot.
Date: 110 ACH
Related Logs: None
Players:
Jane..Drey..

Usually, Jane's not a difficult one to track down. If she's not in her bunk, she's at the bar. Today? Neither. And there's a neatly packed duffel sitting on her bed, where anyone to check in there. Today, the dark-haired pyramid player is out on the court, idly playing a game of one… which mostly involves her attempting to get the ball into one of the goals by bouncing it off of the wall at weird angles.

Drey's basic patterns tend to be fairly similar to Jane's and maybe some part of her missed her teammate at the bar even if she might not usually be inclined to actually join anyone else. She's usually the sort to keep to herself, but it's hard not to wonder where someone is when they're not where they usually are. Routines can be difficult to break when that's all someone really has to count on. Drey's almost given up on her half-assed search for Jane when she finds her. "Moving?" she asks between bounces so her voice is more noticeable.

"Yep," Jane replies quite cheerfully. Which is a bit of a change from her usual dour grumbling. Quite a bit. "There was a couple of pilots from Genesis down at the park the other day, passing out fliers. I," she pauses for dramatic effect, tossing the ball towards Drey, "am going to be a pilot."

"A pilot," Drey repeats the word suspiciously, catching the ball that's tossed her way. "On Genesis," she adds, just to be clear. It's hard to tell what she thinks about the idea, but she's notoriously hard to read sometimes. "Huh," is her overall response, but it's pretty obvious that she's thinking behind those usually dull eyes of hers if nothing else. She tosses the ball toward one of the goals but most of her attention is on Jane right now.

Jane keeps her eyes on the shot, then moves to take control of the ball on the rebound. "A viper pilot, even." She takes note of where Drey's standing, then begins to move in the opposite direction to circle around. "I'm sick of tired of sitting around here all down, doing frak-all. What's the point? Seriously?" After three steps, she pauses and aims a shot at the nearest goal. "I figure it's time to frakking do unto them like they did unto us, you know?"

"There is no point," Drey says and she frowns, which isn't a whole lot different from her usual expression most of the time. She watches Jane for a moment, then moves like she's actually going to make en effort to take back control of the ball when its thrown. When she has the ball again, she makes an offensive move toward the center to take a better shot at the head.

Making only a half-hearted attempt to block the shot, Jane goes after the ball on the rebound. "Maybe not," she allows, with a shrug. "Maybe we all are doomed to die horrible death-by-Cylon. I'm kind of sick of just sitting on my ass in the bar waiting around for it to happen, though." She takes two steps towards the middle of the court, jockeying with Drey a little for position. Almost as if she were daring the other girl to try and take the ball away.

True to the style of play she was a little infamous for pre-'end of the world,' Drey's demeanor turns more aggressive. She moves to guard the center with a little growl of effort. "So you're gonna leave me sitting around on my frakking ass while you go and get yourself blown up. That's brilliant," Drey says and surges forward to try and force her repossession of the ball, a little of her emotion playing into her movements. Then again, she's probably had a few drinks already.

"Best plan I ever had," Jane replies, her tone hitting a cheerful peak in response to the growl. She shoulder-checks Drey in an attemp to get a clear shot at the goal. "What else are we going to do, Drey? Sit on our asses, getting drunk and fat? Is that /really/ how you want to go out? Because we got precious few options."

"That's for damned straight," Drey snorts about Jane's best plan. "Oh, now there's a we?" she says as she recovers and takes the ball on the rebound, moving the other way over the arena, three steps before she throws the ball at the goal with a little more force and a little less aim than necessary or desired. "Frak this. Take me to someone who can sign me up," she says and though she might not sound entirely sincere, she leaves Jane with the ball and walks off the arena.

"Seriously?" Jane catches the ball as it rebounds off of the goal, out instinctive reaction rather than a desire to actually want possession of it. As Drey stalks off, she jogs after her teammate. The ball is tossed over her shoulder and back onto the court. "I met the CAG — that's the person in charge in military-speak. She's alright. They're supposed to be clearing me for transfer to Genesis. Get your frakkin' bag packed and come with me."

"Unless you stuff me in a bag," a prospect of which Drey doesn't regard highly by the tone of her voice, "I don't think they'll just let me tag along with you." That's not to say that Drey isn't making her way toward the general direction of all her very few belongings. But she pauses and turns to face Jane, rubbing one of her hands with the other. If she was going to say something, though, she doesn't, and turns back to continue walking. "What did the fliers say?" she asks instead.

A few long strides has Jane walking alongside Drey. "That they're recruiting. For Viper and Raptor pilots. While I am arguably the best pyramid player on this ship," she can't help but dig on Drey a little, and the corner of her mouth twitches as she does so, "I don't know frak-all about flying a Viper. They're willing to train. The CAG says that the Vipers are dangerous. The avionics are touchy. So, naturally, I want one."

"Maybe the most disillusioned pyramid player on this ship, Janie," amends Drey with a smirk offered in her teammates direction, voice purposefully and teasingly patronizing. "Touchy and dangerous. Sounds right up your alley." This time her smile is a little more genuine and it's something that doesn't grace her thin lips often enough.

"Yeah, whatever." Jane grunts in response, then smirks right back. "You know I'm right about this. If I wasn't, would you be tagging along?" She thumps Drey's shoulder playfully to take any sting out of her tease. "In all seriousness, though, are you going to shoot some frakkin' toasters with me, or thinking about learning to fly one of those Raptors?"

"It's not like I can just let you go out there and get frakked up by the first toaster you meet. Besides, if you can fly one of those damned Vipers, there's no frakkin' reason that /I/ can't." Competitive much? Well, it's not like Drey doesn't come by it honestly. And naturally.

Jane's response is something between a snort and a snicker. "Uh huh. See, I envision our first mission going down with you getting your ass handed to you by a couple of heavy raiders, and then I have to save you because who else am I going to drink with? It's basically the complete opposite of your very wrong idea of how this whole piloting thing works." She's grinning now, clearly enjoying the friendly rivalry. "Just try not to crash into me or anything, okay?"

"I won't make any promises," Drey says stubbornly, but she's grinning now, too, in a much less sour mood than she'd developed between finding Jane and now. "Hey, I'll go stuff my things into a bag and buy you a drink, huh? Make the theme celebrating the possible, ass-kicking future rather than mourning the past." Those are pretty deep words for little Miss Drey.

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