Panther Bar, Part One
Panther Bar, Part One
Summary: Marines and Pilots, Round 1.
Date: 16 ACH
Related Logs: Round 2

It's lunchtime and Ramiro's been taking some well deserved shore leave time that he's been saving up. Never too far away for being called in, he's nursing a right arm in a sling as he lords over a small, rationed plate of chicken wings. An attractive waitress sets down a glass of water for Ramiro and smiles at him, tousling his hair a little bit as she saunters off to serve someone else.

Logan Wulf enters the bar and takes a look around with his hard, stern eyes. Adjusting his yellow shades, he walks over to the bar itself, ordering a large plate of fish n chips. Looking over his shoulder, he finally spots Ramiro and almost instantly, a smile splits his face. "Well, hang me from a tree and spank me silly, if it isnt the corporal who got promoted for outstanding bravery in the line of duty!" he says as he starts to head on over to Ramiro's table. "I am truly happy and very much pleased to see you back on your feet, son. I bet you are good to go and ready to head out into combat right now, huh? It wouldnt surprise me one bit. Might I shake your hand, son? Logan Wulf is the name, but my friends calls me Vox. You might remember me? I was on the squad when you got yourself busted up, remember." He grins and holds out the hand in a friendly gesture to Ramiro as he walks on over.

Ramiro smiles and motions to the right arm in the sling, and instead opts to shake Wulf's hand with his left in a somewhat backwards manner. It's the best that he apparently can offer. "Oh I definitely remember you, Lance. That was a hell of a job we did that day and you were a large part of it. Why dontcha grab a bench…" He motions to the other side of the booth. "…I have it on good word that they're going to air some historic pyramid games for the clientele." He pauses to take a sip of water. "Corporal Dane Ramiro. Corporal when I'm in uniform, Dane or Ramiro when I'm not."

"Alright, man" Wulf grins and takes a seat. "Dane, huh? Well, you call me Vox, in or out of uniform, I dont mind. Unless the corporal prefers to call me by rank that is" he chuckles with his booming voice. "Yes, sir, we did fine back there, didnt we? Turned alot of toasters into junk, and real quicklike too. But man, was it close; I took a couple of hits right in the chest. Had it not been for my vest, not even that hot as hell medic of yours would have been able to patch me up. Lemme tell ya, though; I wouldnt mind her trying, if you know what I mean" he grins wide and winks. "Man, that is one fiiiiine woman you have on your missions, boy. You share showers with her? That would be something; Well, pinch my onion and cool me down, that would indeed be something."

Ramiro chuckles a little, taking another sip of his water before he goes back to the spicy wings. "I'll call you Vox on the line until someone higher than me tells me to cut it out. I'm a Corporal, you're a Lance, no need for me to act like I think I'm a general, we're all still under the Sergeant's supervision." Ramiro looks up at the mention of D'artanion. "Yeah, Gunnery Sergeant D'artanion's simply amazing with the patching people up but uhm…no her and I have a purely platonic relationship."

Wulf nods and smiles. "Good t'know, good t'know. So, the hot piece of ass has reached Gunny, huh? Damn, then one has to be careful around her. Dont want to fire off the wrong comment at the wrong time, huh" he says, ever smiling but also shakes his head. "Man, why did a fine piece of work like that ultra foxy woman go and become a sergeant? Although… I might just shoot myself in the leg if it means she will come on over and give me a sweet hug. Mmmm… softlike" he chuckles and then hits the table with his palm. "Ha! Aint nothin in this world like a woman to drive a man off the grid, huh, Dane? Man! I think I've got the hots for that woman. You think you could swing by her and put in a good word for a lovesick brother?"

"Well…I could definitely pass the word along if you'd like me to. Her and I talk often, she might be teaching me the guitar." Ramiro pauses, thinking to himself. "I'd be careful though, Vox." Ramiro looks up, taking a bite of his food and swallowing it down. "She simply doesn't come across to me as a girl that's on the market. Being that she outranks both of us, why don't you ask her to go get some coffee sometime and talk, get acquainted and let her make her decisions. She's a very nice girl before and after you get to know her."

"Naah, man" Vox says and holds up a hand to indicate pause. "Here's the deal, and its as simple as pie, man; You look a woman straight in the eye and say, 'Hey, you and me are going on a date and its happenin' baby'. That's all there is to it. You gotta let her know you dig her and that any other woman is trash compared to her. And man… next to the Gunny, any other woman is pure bucket of shit." At that point, the waitress places Wulf's order on the table, and gives both Wulf and Ramiro a snarky look as she overhears the comment. As she leaves, Wulf eyes her for a moment with an arched eyebrow before turning back to Ramiro. "Anyways, man; That's how love is, and that's how love works. There cant be no bull invovled because if you get messed up with bull… Then pretty soon she will have your dingaling tossed out the airlock, with you watching through the viewport waving goodbye. You gotta be straight about it. No other way, Dane. Thats just how it works, man."

"Well…true. I'm sure that works in some cases, but…this also happens to be wartime and the military." Ramiro replies, a laugh emits from the waitress as she passes again. "I mean don't get me wrong, Vox, I'd like to find a good girl to spend some time with around here but something, maybe something, just tells me that taking that route with a superior officer might be a bad idea." Dane smiles, drinking his water. "That's a route you definitely don't want to take with any of the naval staff either, especially the pilots."

"Hmmmm, might be true" Wulf ponders with his mouth full of fish n chips. "But what else is true, is that in war, life is short and love is a precious thing, man. You gotta give love a chance, even in war, otherwise we're no better off than those shiny toasters. I mean, without some good old fashion sweet loooove making, we might aswell get assembled in some stupid ass factory. No, sir, lemme tell ya; Love, man, that is the key. Finding that special someone and then fight like a maniac to keep him or her alive. That's all there is, just as true as a pound of beans will ruin your pants. You gotta believe, Dane; You gotta believe."

"Well…I…" Dane shrugs, going back to his food. "I guess it could be said that I believe in love, but I'm apparently not as straight forward as you are in that arena. I basically have this tactic with women that I wait for some sort of signal or indication that they might be attracted to me before I ask them out on a date." Ramiro says, biting into his hot wing. Wiping his hands off, he looks to Vox. "There's something about using that whole 'I might not come back from my next mission' routine that seems really, really bad taste right now."

"No, man, you missunderstand" Wulf says, waving a fork in the air. "It's not about getting laid… Well… It is… But more importantly, Dane; More importantly is that if we simply focus on the job, we become robots ourselves, man. You dig, huh? We gotta feel. We gotta emotionolize, if ya catch my drift. And hell, man; You wait for a signal? What if 'She' is waiting for a signal from you, huh? Not alot gets done then, does it? No man, you gotta let her know you are all about her, and she is inside your head every single hour, like some Taurus woodpecker constantly picking at the back of your head, reminding you that you love her, man. That's all there is; You gotta let her know. If not, you'll be left on your own with your one good hand for the rest of your life, man, and that I pity; I pity that, yes sir. So what about you, huh? Any fine piece of ass walking around that you fancy? Dont tell me its one of those fiery eyed pilots; man, those girls will get you killed if you even take a peek at their rack" he chuckles and grins. "So come on, man; who is it? Who's in your ironsights, ready to get a load of sweet lovin' from Dane Heartbreker?"

"Something tells me, Vox, that telling you would be kind of like picking up an intercom phone and screaming it out across the crew." Ramiro replies, trying to dodge the subject a little bit but nonetheless agreeing with Wulf. "Okay, so you're right. It's about having someone to come home to and just…having that. Women are beautiful creatures and just getting one of them to let your arm around them on the observation deck's a pretty special thing. Wait…" Ramiro shakes his head. "I'm starting to talk like you Vox…" He laughs, leaning back in his chair as the Pyramid game starts showing on the monitors around them. "Besides, every girl I know outranks me, is a pilot, or is under my chain of command. It's not like we have civillians on the Genesis to flirt with and I really don't want to be that guy that the CO yells at after all I've done to keep my nose clean…"

"Course Im right, man!" Wulf exclaims. "I was right the moment my momma pushed me out and slapped my ass to listen to my beautiful voice for the first time in her life." He then takes a bite and swallows it down with some water. "But Gods be damned, soldier; you aint saying something to the woman you feel for because she outranks you? Holy balls, man; That aint no reason to not tell her. A damn shame it is if you aint got the guts to walk up to a woman and tell her truth. Buckle up, boy, and go to town; no guts, no glory… Isnt that so?"

"Oh no it's not that I don't have the guts to walk up to a woman and tell her the truth, Vox, not that at all. I'm just…relaxed about it." Ramiro replies, giving Wulf a shrug. "Allright, look at it this way. Say I did hypothetically have something for one of the girls I know around here. If she's under my rank, that could distract her or if she's a marine she might have to watch me die. So yeah, that's great. Then, hypothetically, if she outranks me or is a pilot or something, you do realize that those waters are filled with sharks, right?" Ramiro shrugs. "So it's not that I'm afraid, I've just been keeping my head in the game. This is the first few days off I've had in a while, so I really haven't thought about it till now."

Wulf puts his fork and knife down and takes a moment to chew his food while he watches Ramiro as he gives his theory. Wulf picks up his glass and swallows down the food with it and then, casually, looks over at Ramiro again. "That has got to be the biggest pile of bull I've ever heard" he says, eyes hard behind his shades. "Damn, man; You are afraid! Afraid you will die and afraid some pilot will knock you out for messing with his girl. No man; If you die, will your life have been better or worse if you had comitted to love, huh? If you get clocked by a pilot, at least, the woman knows and can make a choice. There is no way around it, man; Express yourself! Clarify and announce, man; thats all there is. You tellin' me that you would rather die alone, than happy? Is that it? Say it aint so? Say it aint that tragic being you, son; Cos I hope to the Gods there is more to ya than that, Corporal Dane. I hope to the Gods."

"No, no…there are a couple of girls I know that I've been thinking about, but I just haven't really said anything yet. I might, allright I probably should. But there is nothing and I mean nothing you can do to get me to fess up on who they are." Ramiro replies, setting his water glass down after taking a sip. Seated at a booth are Wulf and himself, eating bar food, while some historic Pyramid games are playing on the screens inside. "But another thing you should understand is that I also was raised by a Brother of a Lordly cult and a mother that worked at the Colleges of Kobol. So I'm really not that concerned about being happy. I give thanks for every aspect of my life every morning in prayer."

Still wearing his flight suit, with the top stripped down and the arms tied off around his waist, t-shirt and hair slightly damp from decon, Micah ambles into the bar and halts near the entrance to take stock of the place. The pyramid game draws his attention first, even if it's ancient history; he only moves when someone shoves past him in order to get out.

Wulf sits for a moment with his eyes wide open behind his yellow shades, looking slightly confounded. "Man…" he finally says. "You from Gemenon, or somerthing, then? Oh man, I feel for ya. You tellin' me you're keeping all these emotions inside because you think the Gods wants you to? That aint right, man, that aint right at all. You cant let something like that stay inside; You gotta let it out, like birds needs to fly and roam where ever they damn well please. Listen here, son; You cant expect to keep this inside of ya 'til the war is done and over with. This shit dont work like that. If ya let it build, man, it will drive ya crazy… And do you know why? Because some other motherfrakker will come along and snatch your girl. That's right; Some sorry ass, lame excuse of a man, will come along and grab your woman. And why? Because you were too worried about what you good old tutor back in kindergarten would think if he ever found out. No, sir; that aint right, aint right at all. You cant tell me with a straight face that you believe in that shit, do ya? Huh? C'mon, Dane; that aint the truth. It cant possibly frakking be."

"Well.. in answer to your speculation I am from Gemenon." Ramiro coughs lightly into his elbow. Flattening his lips a little, he offers a nod in Micah's direction, taking a moment to ponder why the pilot's still in his flight suit. He then thinks of something. "Give it time, Wulf, give it time. I'll be fine." He motions to Micah in the distance. "Now that? That's game…wearing a flight suit into a sports bar filled with attractive waitresses in tight shirts." He says, as two of the waitresses head over to flirt with Micah and offer to take his order.

Game or not, Micah doesn't seem to be here to flirt with pretty waitresses. He mutters something about needing a drink, doesn't meet their eyes while he's speaking to them, and threads off toward a table while digging a pack of cigarettes out of one of the many pockets of that flight suit. Ramiro and Wulf are spotted, watched for a few moments and eventually nodded to, and he drops into a chair two tables down. And closes his eyes.

"Huh?" Wulf says as Ramiro points out the pilot. Looking over, it is not hard to spot Micah, and Wulf simply eyes the man with a hint of surprise. "Holy turds in a bucket of lard… He's out to get some t'night" he then says. "You know, boy; Chicks dig the pilots. They turn wet as october in a heartbeat the moment they even gets a wiff of a pilots uniform. It's frakking scary, man. Like, stampede scary, y'know. If that kid dont get some t'night, he's swinging in the other direction, if y'know what I mean." Wulf then takes another bite of food and another sip of water. "That's what you need, Dane; Confidence. Ya need some proper balls of brass, man. Be a marine and go on the offensive, I say. Be like the pilots; dress fancy and shit. Show off your stripes, and the bulge in your pants; the women will rips their shirts for ya in no time. As sure as Kobol was paradise, I guarantee. You need a gameplan, son; you cant just wing it. Dont work like that. Now, tell me who's the target, and I'll give ya the tips you need to make it happen… So come on now… Lets hear it; give me the Nasty stuff."

"Maybe…that's not…game." Ramiro says quietly, rubbing his jaw. "I'm not exactly good at feeling those things out." Ramiro says quietly, pushing his empty plate of food aside as he wipes his hands off. He looks to Wulf. "I think he's had a bad day, and I usually try to assume the worst to avoid picking fights." Ramiro pauses, glancing back to Micah for a moment. "Look, Wulf, I respect what you're doing and all man but I'm not afraid of women. It just feels like bad timing. Lots of people are worried about their families right now and they're not exactly thinking romance. I'm still not telling you who they are and trust me, I don't have any confidence issues at all. I'm just being respectful of boundaries."

Micah is seated near enough that he can undoubtedly hear snippets of what's being talked about. Which is probably more dangerous than if he was hearing all of it. Again his eyes rove in the pair's direction, steady gaze obfuscated by the thick smoke that pours from nose and lips, after he lights and takes a drag of his cigarette. "Ta," is offered tautly to the server who sets down his whiskey atop a coaster — this one features the logo of picon's pyramid team on it. "He in't afraid of frakking women," the pilot remarks authoritatively, gesturing to Ramiro with his cigarette and a fleeting grin. "..except, maybe one."

"Sweet buns" Wulf says as he shakes his head. "You're confused, man" he says and looks at Ramiro. "You know, you need to de-confuse yourself. Like in decontamination. Or decomposing, y'know… Ya need to de-confuse yourself, Dane!" And that is when Micah interrupts, gaining Wulf's attention in the process. Wulf, aka Vox, looks on over at the pilot through his yellow shades, eyebrow quirked. "Course he aint 'frad of frakkin' women! He's scared out of his pants to talk to them; thats the problem here. Who da hell is scared of frakking, anyhow? This kid aint no mental-case. He's condused, thats all. He needs to be de-confused and get his pecker straightened out, cos Im betting its all twisted and shit down below, cos he aint getty any. Aint it so, corporal?" Wulf says as he turns to Ramiro once more. "I mean, making love to the hand aint making love at all. Ya needs yourself a proper woman to cuddle with…" and that is when it suddenly hits him. Wulfs eyes widen as he looks at Ramiro with almost angry eyes, though they seem more suspicious and cautious than anything else. "You aint… y'know… Swinging that way… Are ya?"

"What? No I am definitely not swinging that way. Not that there's any problem with that…I'd hate to offend nearby pilots." Dane suddenly replies with a laugh, furrowing his brow a little bit as he points his finger at Wulf. "What the frak, Vox? Just because I'm not doing things your way doesn't mean I need anything straightened out or whatever. I'm on frakkin medical leave. I just had my arm nearly buzz-sawed off by a frakkin Centurion. C'mon man, give me a frakkin break." Ramiro shakes his head, turning to look at Micah. "Oh so now to you, do tell…who's this one you think I'm afraid of?"

"Don' think he's doing much makin' love to the hand right now, mate," Micah points out helpfully, nodding at Ramiro's aforementioned injured arm. Another toke is taken of his cigarette, upper body twisting to ash it out in the glass dish set upon his table. He's seated at a table nearby Wulf and Ramiro, dressed in his flight suit with the top stripped down to a slightly damp t-shirt underneath. His hair is similarly damp, like he recently left decon. "In't matter any," he mutters when Ramiro challenges him. Crow? Backing down from a potential fight? Pigs must be soaring on feathery wings somewhere.

Here she comes…well Manny enters the bar, cigarette dangling from between her lips but it is still unlit as she tilts her head to the side as she scans the area for any familiar face as she slips off her jacket and folds it over an arm, pursing her lips and sighing as she saunter to the bar, plucking the cancer stick from between her lips.

"Do I detect hostility here?" Wulf says as he eyes Ramiro. "Getting too close to the truth for comfort, is that it, huh? Who is this woman he speaks of? Is she the one? The one you dont dare talk to cause you're too afraid to face the truth? We can help you, son. We are here for ya; we can help you sort your shit out. This woman, is she the one, ya think? The one you know you will marry and make little Dane's with? Little Dane's that one day will make you little grandchildren Dane's? If so, we can help you. But if you dont want our help, son, dont come complaining about it when some other schmuch grabs her right infront of you and makes little kiddies of their own, ya hear. Cos then, it aint my problem no more. But it is my problem now, corporal. It is my problem, because I can see the pain in your eyes. Share that pain, son. Im here and ready to listen… And to help. So spill the beans all over me and let me gather up the pieces for ya… and together, we will get through this…." Wulf then, all of a sudden, begins to sniffle, "… You have my word, son… You have my word." He reaches out across the table and squeezes Ramiro's shoulder as he fights back the tears.

"Wait…I uh…" Ramiro scratches the side of his head and in an almost embarassed manner tries to recollect all of the things that Wulf just said and reverse engineer them to make more sense in his mind. "I'm…not exactly worried about some other guy grabbing a girl and making little other-guys in front of me. That would be…kinda strange." He chuckles, taking a sip of his water as he looks over to Micah. "Thanks." He admits, for no names being spoken aloud. "Vox…no it's not hostility it's just that whole don't go fishing at the company pond thing? Sure there are girls that I like that are also in the company pond. I just don't haven't decided if I want that complication because I'm in the middle of fighting a war. It's just that simple. I swear." He replies, setting his glass down. "And if I ever need advice on how to walk up to a woman and tell her that even though she doesn't really know me, that it's right to make babies with her that very night, I'll know exactly where to get the right line."

Micah takes a swig of his whiskey, and chases it with another drag of his cigarette. Smoke's breathed from his nose like a dragon, and it's not a poor analogy for his apparent mood tonight. Maybe a little of that muskeg stink is still clinging to him, despite the showers and the chemical sprays. "Spill those beans somewhere else, if you don' mind," he tosses over at Ramiro. And then to Wulf, "Lay the frak off 'im before I put you out of your misery, will you?" Grunted in a lower voice, "Giving me a frakking headache." Manny is spotted from the periphery of his vision, and nodded to politely, a little distractedly.

Does she usually wear skirts, no. But Manny is today for whatever reason and she's working on ordering a glass of whiskey as she turns to lean against the bar, eyebrow quirking as she cups a hand around her mouth. "…yo, Blackbird." She waggles fingers and then blows a kiss to Ramiro, before looking Wulf over from where she is thoughtfully.

Wulf quirks an eyebrow and looks on over at Micah, eyes hard as rocks behind his yellow shades, and the frown turning to the shape of a horseshoe as he gives Micah the evil eye. "Pardon me, sir… But did you just threaten me, boy? Cos it kinda sounded like a threat to me over here. But of course, I could be wrong about it, with all noise in here distorting sound and all. But curse my wee balls if it didnt sound like a threat on my person. Just feeling the need to clarify what is being said, thats all, ensign."


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