Lick It, Stick It
Lick it, Stick It
Summary: Addison & Shem in the Rabbit Hole with a Triad Deck, Booze, and Bets.
Date: 28 ACH (10 Dec 2008)
Related Logs: Good Coffee

Battlestar Genesis, Deck 9, The Rabbit Hole (Rec), 28 ACH
This large lounge recreation area is here for the personnel of the Genesis. As any place where Officers and enlisted seem to come together, there are places for each. The Officers areas are more lounge-like and the enlisted have a couple couches, tables and chairs. Various computer games are here as well, including some foosball, driving or flying, shooting, etc. Along one wall a long counter has been setup with snacks, drinks and a sink.

In the officers' side, Shem is playing cards at a table with a Navyman, uniform unbuttoned, with a glass of amber liquid. He has a pyramid card plastered to his forehead, and he's laughing, pointing at the similarly-festooned forehead of the man across from him. "Oh my gods, you are so frakked." He slaps the table. The lieutenant has the lower card.

Addie steps in through the hatch, swinging it closed behind her. She gives it a spin, and leaves it for the next poor sod who wanders through to open up. Her first stop, as always, is the coffee maker, for a half a cup of the crappiest coffee within five decks. Mug. Pot. Pour. Clink. She wears sweats, fresh from a jog around the beast, otherwise known as Genesis. She glances up, and over, to note the men with card heads jeering at each other.

"Mine is definitely bigger than yours," the Navyman replies. There's a brief pause, then the men point at each other and shout, simultaneously, "That's what she said!" More raucous laughter. Eventually, the cards are shown, and money is exchanged.

Addie chooses that moment to wander within conversational range, mug in hand. "Truer words were never spoken, boys." She glances down at the table, then between the foreheads again. "Ooh. I hope the stakes aren't too high on this one." She gives the Lieutenant and significant look. That is to say she quirks an eyebrow a fraction of an inch. It's barely noticeable.

Cards still primed, the change in Shem's demeanor can almost be clocked by a speed gun. The smile is abandoned, leaving an empty, upward crook of his lips. "Sir," he says, almost ironically. The Navyman notices the change and glances between the two. He clears his throat and stands, passing the card face-down off to the pilot. "There you are," he says, flashing a winning smile, before disappearing.

"I can't take this card, I've seen both." Addie shrugs, licks it, and slaps it to her forehead. "You look like such a jackass." Oh, god. Navy cooties! She sips her coffee, pulls a very slight face. "Horrible." Addie reaches a hand over the table. "Call me Addie, drop the sir. We're not on duty." She holds out a hand, and she waits.

Shem sucks loudly on a tooth and eyes the hand. He shakes it, firmly, and nods to the opposite chair. "Grab another card." He takes another drink.

Addie smiles and the hand is taken, shaken, and she sips her coffee again. Dear god. What is in that cup? "I saved you from humiliation. You were about to lose." She reaches for a new card, licks it, sticks it. "This game spreads disease coffee can't kill." She nods to the glass. "What are you drinking?"

"Whiskey." Shem glances at the glass as he mentions it. "I think. Somebody might've already switched the bottle." He looks at her forehead, and a thin smile curls his lips. He's definitely not as happy as before, but it's a start. He says, pointedly, "Save me from humiliation like the last time?"

"Last time was between us." Addie slides her mug over. "Spike me." She glances up from the mug. "What? If you're going to be taken, be taken by a higher class of Navy. Frak, Shem, remove the stick from your ass. I made a point that needed to be made. It's not like a rubbed myself naked over your desk and licked your pencils." She smirks. "Although I'm fairly certain the Desk Sergeant would have enjoyed that."

Shem pours some of his drink into hers. "Ha ha ha," he vocalizes. "That was my best mug. Now I got to get the pilot stink out of it." It's unclear whether or not he's joking. Probably just rec room banter.

Addie seems appeased by the liquor introduced into the battery acid of her coffee. She slides the mug back. "It's still your best mug, now it's just got awesome on it. You're a Marine. Suck it up. I don't remember my cousins being such delicate flowers."

Shem leans back and plants his bootheels on the table. "Where at?"

"Everywhere and nowhere. Eighty six of us in the fleet at last count." Before the bombs, thank you. "Originally Scorpia." Addie sips her coffee. It still burns, but in a better way. "If you've ever met a Nikos under any command, I guarantee you I'm related in some way. Especially if they rank among the craziest bastards you know. You have no idea what kind of familial shame it was for me to turn pilot."

Shem eyes Addie speculatively. "Sounds about right." He takes another drink. "I have some cousins who went to the Navy. Boy, were they shunned. Couldn't even bring the uniforms home to be laundered."

"Really? Nah, it just made our brawls better." Addie smirks behind her mug. "You just gotta pull more dirty tricks faster. You find out you're going Navy, stops come out. Sometimes it involves dynamite and somebody loses an eye, but all around it's still a good time. So long as Gran never finds out who lit the first fuse." She glances up. "We betting or what?"

Shem decides, "I'm not betting any money with you. Something else." He downs the rest of his drink and sits up. "Something humiliating." He reaches underneath him, pulls up the original bottle, and pours some more into the glass.

Addie raises dark brow eyes to look at Shem. "I'm going to need more liquor for this." Her chin comes up. "What did you have in mind?"

"Eh?" Shem asks, proffering the bottle to see if she'd like to Irish up her coffee some more. "Next time you're out on CAP, sing the Marine anthem over the wireless."

Addie smiles. She shakes her head slightly, then her lips purse. "Ok." She holds out the mug. "Hit me again." She mms. "I win, you learn the names of the entire Air Wing, and you send them polite missives on CMC stationary. Just like a Cruise Director. With a personal factoid about each one worked in. The facts must be gotten through conversation, not files."

Shem tops Addie off. He breaks into an incredulous laugh. "There's too many of you. How about five."

That was true, inevitable. Addie nods. "Okay, five." She points a finger past the mug, releasing them from it without dropping. It's still curled in her hand. "But I get to pick at least three."

"Hell, as long as they're not crazier than you," Shem says. He raises his glass. "That'll be fine. Cheers." Then he takes a drink.

"Are you complimenting me or insulting me, I really can't tell right there," Addie raises her mug slightly. It really doesn't seem like it matters to her. Booze, cards, Rec Room. "In the future, let's settle our differences the old fashioned way."

Shem runs his tongue along his teeth. He glances at her forehead and smirks again. "Old-fashioned or really old-fashioned?"

Addie's eyes come up at that. She was looking at the cards on the table. "Which one means I kick your ass up and down the gym?"

Shem laughs. He slaps the table, roughly. "Show'em, loser." He takes the card and slaps it down on the table.

Addie reaches up to slide her card from her forehead, and slaps it down on the table too. One beat, two. "Aw, screwed by lady luck again. I swap paint with every damn bet I make."

"YES!" Shem lifts both of his fists in the air and bolts up. He starts dancing. Oh yes, he does. A very poorly-executed moonwalk, a one-eighty, and now he's driving the bus. "Oh yeah, uh huh, that's right."

Addie just looks at Shem for a moment, expression absolutely priceless. Shock. And then she just laughs. Because… damn. She laughs so hard she doubles over in her chair. It was the bus move. It was the bus. "Oh, gods, the bus." She cries and laughs. "Stop it, stop it before… I rupture… something." If the rest of the Rec wasn't watching, they sure as shit are now.

Shem almost misses the chair as he sits down. Looks like the drink got to him more than he thought. His laughter trails off, and he's all smiles now. Leaning forward, he asks, a look of extreme concern, "You know the song, right?"

Addie almost gets control of herself, then Shem drunks into the chair and speaks again. "Shut up. Stop talking." That devolves into a snicker.

Shem breaks out into laughter. "Hey, it's not my fault your mouth wrote a check your skills can't handle." He taps the deck of cards. "I am the king of this. Come on, let's practice." He starts singing.

"Aw, talkin' crap now about the pilot cos you won one hand of licky sticky?" Addie points across the table. "Oh-ho, big man. I don't think so! You lick another one right now." She reaches for a card. "Let's go."

Shem rolls his eyes dramatically. He licks the back of the next card. "One, two, three, go." He slaps the card up onto his forehead and immediately starts laughing again. "This is going to be easier than last time. What's the bed?" He might have meant bet.

It's the whiskey, or moonshine or whatever that crap's been cut with. They'll probably both go blind before morning, so who gives a shit anyway. "I win, you—" She licks her card, and slaps it into her forehead. It's… a little crooked and almost entirely covers one eye. Oh yeah, her coffee? Almost gone. Who knows how long it's been like that. Maybe she's a cheap drunk. "Will prominently display a Viper Squadron patch on the arm of your offduties, visible to all. And refrain from bashing the Air Wing, or any other pilots. You will jump the shit of any marine who does it in your presence. And mean it."

Shem makes a declaratory finger. "Only, only when off duty. You…" He pauses to think about it. Don't take all day, now. "You have to work in oorah into each conversation you have."

"I hate it when oorah is overused. I have to be that woman?" Addie ughs and finishes the last lingering drops of her drink, thunks her cup down. "Fine."

"Alright, alright, we reveal after the song." He refreshes her drink. "Okay? Okay. Here we go. You need your practice, now." He starts singing the anthem.

Addie blows out a breath, and lifts her hands. Oh god. Yep, here it comes, loudly. The anthem, word for word, perfect diction (almost perfect .. aw shut up). For a small pilot, she has a set of lungs on her. They can probably hear that halfway to the Obs Deck.

Shem sings along. Hey, he's not all that tone-deaf. He slams the card down when the song's over.

Addie, not to be out done, slams her card down as well. The bottle teeters a bit. Table's either off or both of 'em need to lay off the force.

Shem shouts, "Hell yeah!" Here comes the ill-advised wave with his arms. At least he's sitting this time. "Can't stop this. Can't stop the motion."

"SHIT!" Addie curses as her card is revealed to be lower. Again. She gives the table a little shove and drops back into her seat. "I show you motion." She flings a couple cards at the S2. Good thing this wasn't a planet side game. That could have been a shove into the bog.

Shem lifts his arms up, in a 'look at me' pose. "Let it rain, let it rain. Woah." He laughs as he grabs the edge of the table to straighten himself. He takes another drink. "Pleasure doing business with you, Captain Addie Nikos." He says the name rec-room insultitorily.

"If you're going to say it like that, you should know it's actually Captain Nyx Addison," She raises her fingers and does sarcastic airquotes, "'Fender' Nikos." And then she rises herself, leans across the table, and says, "I defiled your desk."

Shem puts his hands on the table and stands up, leaning in to match her posture. "Petty, petty comeback. Oorah for a month, right? Right."

Aggressive double leans. Table sure is central to keeping them both upright. "What would be petty is if I said even though I'm gonna oorah all up and down this ship, and sing that anthem on CAP, the first memory you will always have of me is behind your desk. Drinkin' your coffee." She smiles, "And then takin' you to school." She's kinda mean when she's drunk and just lost two bets in a row.

Shem doesn't seem to be an angry drunk. He smiles dully, showing teeth. "That's fine," he says, almost bobbling his head when he talks. "Long as when you're singing the anthem and oorahing up and down this ship, you remember me kickin' your ass."

"This is worse than the time I broke two ribs and fished half a license plate out of my own body cavity because my stupid cousin can't drive a turn at 65." Addie blows out a breath. "It'll come around again, Shem. You remember that. A Nikos always comes out on top." She's really drunk.

Shem rolls his eyes dramatically. "Now you're just making shit up." He reaches down and drinks the rest of it. "And now I'm going to my bunk." He grins and leans his face in. "You have a good night, sir."

Fotilas comes in from Corridor 9C.
Fotilas has arrived.

"The hell I am." Wait for it, cos here it comes. Addie pulls her shirt up to reveal a most impressive scar just under her ribcage. Never question a Captain's word. She will show you her scar. It meanders and is wide, curvy, and long enough that it's clear something went in deep and required a bunch of stitches. Ignore the tattoo up her side, we're not talking about cherry blossoms today. Shut up, Fotilas. YOU SEE NOTHING.

Shem leans down and squints at the scar. He whistles. "Alright, oorah, whatever." He flashes a shit-eating grin and stumbles for the hatch.

Satisfied, Addison drops her shirt back into place. "Damn right, oorah!" And one. She drops into her chair more or less accurately. "Frakkin' marines."

A figure can be seen walking past the hatch, glancing in. Just past the far side, it stops and grabs onto both sides and looks at Shem. Then Addie. Its Fotilas in his off-duty dudes. "Evening, Captain." Then Shem again. "Lieutenant. I need a word about a certain brigged prisoner. And no, it can't wait."

Addie raises a hand and waves at Fots. "Colonel." Yeah, she just waved. What. Everyone's off duty here. Some more than others. "Oh, hey, I heard there was a pilot in the brig. You know, again." She clears her throat and fans herself a little. Okay, getting it under control. Hold on a tick.

Shem squints at Fotilas. "Sir? Which prisoner?" He's able to keep his posture generally straight, but it's evident that he's been drinking.

Fotilas waves a hand at Addie. "Yep. She's been in there two godsdamned weeks and I'm still trying to figure out why she's not released to either the vacuum or to the general public. Personally, I don't think she's much danger.." The Colonel shrugs. He hasn't been seen off-duty since the whole thing blew up a month ago. He's taking his to an extreme also. But his gaze settles on Shem. "I'm speaking about former Lieutenant Kyrios, Astyoche. Used to driver Vipers. She came aboard on that Raptor a few weeks ago." He inclines his head towards the Lieutenant, expecting an answer.

Addie moves to rise as well. She probably should have stayed sitting. If Shem can stand up, so can she. She's from Scorpia, damn it. It's a little bit of a wavery start, but she straightens up like a champ. Or a highly trained officer who usually has some of the vest posture you can find outside of professional dancers. (Shut up, they have excellent posture.) She scowls as Fotilas mentions a name.

"Uhh." Shem scratches at his forehead, baring his teeth as he squinches up his nose, thinking. Eventually, he says, "I, uhh, believe that person was convicted of murder and sentenced to death by lethal injection, sir."

Fotilas eyes Addie for a moment, smirking (yes, he smiles!) at her. "Enjoying your night, Captain?" He asks, leering at her jokingly. But the expression falls serious once more for Shem. "That's correct, Lieutenant. And since I have not heard anything for either yourself, Major Altair, or Sergeant Browne, for more than two weeks, I was obliged to go down there myself and speak with the prisoner. Then I spoke with Sergeant Browne and she informed me that she would support releasing the prisoner based on her own findings. Have you spoken with either Sergeant Browne or the prisoner?"

"Astyoche Kyrios…" Why does that name ring a bell. "The evening's great, except for some shit card game." Addie looks up, as the name finally kicks in. It's the liquor, it makes her processes a little sluggish. She waves a hand as if dismissing that. "Wait, Kyrios. From Scorpia? Mustered out when her sister was killed?"

"Uhh." There's that uhh again. Shem scratches his forehead again. "No, not the prisoner, I haven't. I was, uhh, keeping up with her stuff through Browne." He's about to say something else, but he looks over his shoulder at Addie.

The Colonel quirks a brow at Addie. "Very nice, Captain. I'm impressed. Either you've been visiting people you shouldn't or you know something? Because that's dead on. Anything you'd like to add to our discussion?" Fotilas then turns a conversational expression back to Shem, both arms still blocking the door. "Well you probably should figure something out. Because.. I'll be honest Lieutenant.. If I find out you've been getting tanked while an innocent woman is sitting in our brig.. a potential Viper jock.. I won't be happy. And we don't want to make the Colonel unhappy, do we?" He shakes his head as if leading the man towards his answer.

"Mustered out… when her sister was killed by an officer in another Wing. The trial was ridiculously short, and there were rumors all up and down about the family behind it. Corruption in the system, it was the big talk over dinner for weeks." Addie frowns again. She looks over at Shem, then Fotilas. "That's who we piggyback jumped in on the raptor weeks ago? That's who's been sitting in the brig rotting?" She looks over at Shem again. "Aren't you the head of intelligence? Drink some coffee, man!" She walks her fingers against her thumb, digging through her brain to come up with some more info. "I met her when she was in flight school on one of those mandatory runs back through to mentor at the Academy for those of us who were a little too hot on the stick." She skips the sentimental parts. "Which is why I remembered the name when it came up in the feeds later, when I was stationed—." That doesn't matter. "She dropped him at an Air Show because his family paid for his verdict and he murdered her little sister. Who was a little developmentally challenged if I remember right."

Shem looks back forward. He doesn't have a comment about the corruption. He scratches his forehead again. "Well, uhh, no sir, there's no question that she was found guilty. Her conviction's valid and pat, far as anybody can tell. What we're looking into was why she was in the Raptor in the first place." He makes a face and looks down at the deck, as he mulls things over. "But after that gets figured, I'm pretty sure we're going to have to, uhh, carry it out. The sentence, sir, I mean. Carry out the sentence."

Fotilas' brow quirks, obviously impressed. "Informative despite intoxication. I wasn't aware of all that and her and I spoke for more than an hour." The man is taking mental notes. But his attention swings back towards the Lieutenant. "The conviction isn't valid and pat if the court system was mishandled and purchased, is it Mister Shem?" Fotilas leans his head down to look up to the man. "See what I'm getting at? But if you're up on the case, then why is Sergeant Browne telling me that we should release her on parole?" A pause, and the man smiles. "Look, Shem. I'm not going to bust your balls anymore. You're drunk. But realize that I am going to walk into Major Altair's office tomorrow and ask him the same question and it would be in everyone's best interest that you both have an understanding or answer. And I'll tell you right now, if you plan to execute that woman.." His voice turns severe. "You better have a Godsdamned good argument." He steps away from the hatch. "Now go sleep it off."

Addie shoots a look at Shem. "Are you kidding me?" Still drink, yeah. "What about what I just said is sorted. You know what, I have some letters with dates and something in my—" Oh wait. Entering that kind of thing into evidence means the rest will be read. Damn it. "Locker."

Shem opts not to try and put together a coherent response — although there are several good ones! — and mumbles an, "Aye, sir." He shuffles toward the hatch.

Shem leaves for Corridor 9C [O].
Shem has left.

Addie reaches up to rub a hand over her face. "Hades. I am never drinking with that man again." She heads toward the hatch as well. "If I make it to the Berthing without breaking something important, I'm buying myself a whore." Don't ask. Please don't be standing by the hatch.

The Colonel steps out of the way, giving her a wide berth. "Enjoy your night, Captain," he says quietly, a smile tinging at the edges of his voice.

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