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RP: YSS Eucharis [Mission 27, Part 2] Night on the Beach (YE 39)

"Not even metaphorical. What a waste of a good euphemism." Having prepared herself thus, Tan took the glass and managed to drink about half a mouthful, puffing out her cheeks and taking a few seconds to swallow it with a relieved 'Phew!'. Compared to most Nepleslians, she must have been about teetotal. "I think I'll need to sip this, anyway. Just as well that we don't have a film crew, here."
 
"Well, Tan-Hei... Your new family is no stranger to subterfuge either, to be fair." Tsuguka handled the small glass carefully, giving the gleaming ice cube a little visual appreciation. She knew that letting Wazu's question lag behind was probably a little rude, but wasn't quite sure how to answer it just yet. "Sometimes I think it's amusing how much you organics seem to be made for the star army, just as much as us test tube fabrications. And then you have people like Itto Heisho Suites, who somehow manage to be shades of both."

A small sip of the liquid, wincing just a little as the cold snap of the vodka set her nostrils clear. Not exactly the sensation she expected. Eyes went back to examining it.

"Enjoy? I just feel pointless standing still, Wazu-Sama... My brain isn't for that." A flick of the eyes, looking back up towards him and then darting back towards the fish. It was an odd sensation feeling like you had known someone for years, but clearly hadn't even scratched the surface. "What do you enjoy? Surely you aren't here just for pondering Rixxikor body parts, are you? Being a civilian, I admittedly do not have access to your full operational profile."
 
Bar

"The term is 'flair', my friend," Ramiro informed as he grabbed a bottle, making sure it was closed because it was too full to spin successfully without spilling, and started doing spinning-tosses with it. He did many of the same tricks as before - tossing behind the back, going over the shoulder, going around the head - but this time with a few rotations of the bottle thrown into the mix.

"And no commission, so not an officer," Ramiro corrected. "I work for a living." At one point he spun the bottle around one wrist, flipping the bottle from his wrist into two full rotations in the air, before landing into a spin around his other wrist before snatching it straight out of the air. Setting the bottle back down, he continued speaking.

"The idea is to entertain. Sure, anyone can make a good drink by getting the perfectly right measurements, but at that point what sets apart one mixologist from another? The answer is flair bartending. Some of us, like myself, just do it for fun." This time Ramiro reached down and picked up three closed bottles which he started juggling. "I, having nobody to live with, thus enjoyed throwing get-togethers at my condo in Kyoto. So I set up a full bar at my place and taught myself some of the basics of bartending, moving to flair bartending after just mixing drinks like normal got boring." Ramiro the switched tricks. He held onto one bottle in his right hand while he used the left hand to toss the other two bottle vertically, alternating so he would toss when when the other was at it's peak. He then took that first bottle by the neck and started waving it between the other two bottles with each toss. He then started adding a rotation into each toss of the two bottles with his left hand.

"However, for people who tend bar professionally, for a full-time career, being able to flair might make the difference between getting hired at the bar that pays you 30-thousand per year, or the bar that pay 50-thousand per year." Ramiro's left-hand tosses increased into two rotations per toss. "Plus, people tip you better when you can toss a 750mL bottle five feet above their head, scoop ice into the shaker cup while the bottle is mid-air, and then catch it to pour the drink." On the next catch with his left hand he quickly slammed the bottle down onto the bar in time to catch the other bottle, which he slammed next to the first.

He mostly ignored the swimmers in the meantime. He might go swimming later, and that sight wasn't much to look at since he recalled seeing Hanako wearing less than she was currently.
 
"As soon as I figure that out, I will let you know." Wazu said, finishing off his drink, that pleasant warmth returning, a slight, electric buzz in the tips of his fingers as the alcohol started to set in.

"These days, I suppose I do find the Rixx interesting. They are different, they have a developmental process that I have not seen before... At least not quite like this. The Exploration, the finding something new, it is as good a driving force as any."

He looked over at Hanako and the rest of the crew in the water.

"I think I may have missed something important though. I know Hanako from a long time ago but she is not the same person. It is not like it used to be... I feel like I am a stranger around here more often than not."

He would set the glass down, placing it off to the side in case he wanted to use it again.

"It makes me miss the Nepleslian days. Sure I was an outsider there too but..." He would turn his attention back to the red one. "You people do not approve, it is impolite to bring it up... But it is so easy to just change things. You do not have to care about people of you do not want to. My productivity was fantastic too, even by my standards. You do not get sad, or happy really, just focused.

It might be good to get focused again."
 
Bar

Tan nodded to Tsuguka, smiling broadly, and gave her own spin on an explanation. "We make ourselves, that's why. When I was young, I stayed inside learning to read with my fingers, so after reading a thousand books, I became a writer, because it was all I knew. After the plague, I decided to become a doctor, so I studied hard. By the time I'd become a doctor, the crisis had passed, and my finances were more of a concern to me, so my new ambition was fame and fortune. Which didn't pan out, either, sorry for that!

"I've had more than enough time to remake myself over and over again. Men are made of clay, some say. So we don't have to be conceived for a purpose when we can just bend ourselves to one after another, at will." She took a sip and shrugged, cocking her head to one side. "Even if some are more brittle than others."
 
Tsuguka nodded in response to Tan as they absorbed the information. It was difficult to imagine what it was like to live without a built-in purpose, but then again, she found it difficult to consider what living for that long would even be like, either. More investigations were needed.

Another drink, slightly longer this time, heralding the murmur of a newfound impulsive murky feeling. Watching Ramiro's skilful display gave Tsuguka time to absorb Wazu's more sombre tone. He sounded depressed, and even if the effect was often hidden, it was something that she had felt too. It was probably true that she disagreed over choosing who you care about, through. Taharial's red wings still silently crept in her subconscious, not as something that she could explicitly say she enjoyed, but instead as something that only seemed to pain her here and now...

Drink wasn't helping with the neurosis, then. She placed it on the counter for just a second, before fully turning towards Wazu and placing those sharp little red hands onto both sides of his stubble.

"You are not as alone as you think, Wazu-Sama." Instead of putting on a manufactured show of empathy, the angular woman just straight-up said it. Physical contact could do the work, whilst her eyes were drawn back to the bar top, unsure of how to focus the correct signals. "I came in time to understand that the Shosho feels the need to keep an emotional distance from those under her command, considering how long we tend to last... I mean, it's a bitter game to remain on top all of the time, isn't it?... and..."

Was this working? Was this dumping fuel into the immediate departure of the depression train? Candon never seemed to get bogged down like this, so what would he do?

"-Look!" A flood of warmth filled her dormant heart, leading her to change that light grasp into a double-handed slap. Eye contact was now most definitely established, whilst Tsuguka displayed the single emotion they apparently had no frustrations with; Severe agitation. "People like you, okay? I like you! Try and hide from this party, and I'll get you in a headlock!"
 
Bar

Ramiro grabbed another bottle and switched into a more robotic-like routine, something that he had simply done so much that he didn't need to think much about it, but also didn't involve anything overly complex. Mostly just tossing a bottle around.

"If you're worried about Ketsurui-Shosho, you shouldn't. That woman has been through more than you could imagine in this life, and even more in her other." Ramiro didn't elaborate on the last comment. Either the others knew or they didn't, and he thought it was best to assume the former. He didn't want to risk offending anyone that might not like Ramiro insinuating they don't know about Hanako's history. Besides, even if they didn't know, having Ramiro assume that they did might be better than having him walk into the crew and immediately assume that nobody knew anything about her. If the crew is feeling like she's distant and closed to them, it was best not to respond by lecturing about how must less they knew her than this random stranger who just walked onto the ship a few hours ago.

"She's had the people closest to her come and go more often than most people could handle. And even the ones that were close with her, just to a lesser degree, have tended to rotate in and out of her life, myself included." He calmly snatched one of the bottles out of the air and set it down before looking at the group gathered around the bar. "Just look at the crew. She has been captaining this ship for over a decade, and how long has the longest crew member been here? Yamashiro-Taii was first assigned in Sangatsu YE 35. Less than four years, less than a third of Hanako-Danka's tenure as Captain of this vessel. Not to mention the Elfin Princess before this, the YSS Plumeria before that, the Nazomi, second on the Sakura." Ramiro kind of trailed off, believing that he had made his point by now.

For the first time of the evening he made himself up a quick drink, just lemonade a blue raspberry vodka.
 
Bar

With everyone slowly gravitating towards the bar, and engaging in rather intense discussions with each other, Bel felt... Primarily she felt, after watching Ramiro-juni mix drinks, that it was going to be difficult to get the straight hard liquor she wanted without objection. Things seemed to be settling into a pattern for the evening, too. Fish was cooking, the Admiral, Saiga-chusa, and Becker-hei were naked, Toyoe-heisho was manhandling Wazu-san, Freyja-san were about to possibly make a big mistake or each other very happy (possibly both).

Shouldering past the assemblage at the bar, trying to, but ultimately failing, to avoid bumping people with black-tipped white wings. Putting her fists down on the temporary surface of Ramiro's bar she stared hard at the warrant officer, mentally running through the cocktails she knew for one that would be palatable and available. The almost most completely dressed person at the party finally gave her order.

"Can you make a 75, Ramiro-juni?" she asked with a hint of resignation.
 
*SLAP*

Wazu ended up with a bright pink handprint on the side of his face, his vision going blurry for a bit as he staggered to the side, bracing himself against the bar.

It certainly felt like some rust had been knocked off from somewhere.

"R-right... Not trying to be a downer. And I am not going to be running away anytime soon.

... The only way out is through and all that..."

Wazu stopped himself for a moment, straightened up a bit, and put his palms down on the bar. He could practically hear Uso yelling at him 'get your head in the fucking game!'

Assertive tone, focus on the red one.

"What I had been doing is not working, at least not in regards to the crew. Hanako is detached, and I get the reasons why. I am also not here to get into a measuring contest on who's done what."

Slight emphasis on what, attention to Ramiro.

"This party is supposed to be a fix for that, a return to form even.... "

He would grab his glass... And a few of the red cups now that they were running low on proper glasses. He would pour a few more shots vodka and then pick up his cup.

"...To staying on mission?"
 
Beach

Takao stopped his song and tapped the body as he heard the 'requests' of the people around him, thinking for a moment he looked out to sea and then the stars before he chose a song to play. He quickly checked the tuning and began to play, not actually terrible but not the very epitome of amazing.

He looked up to catch a glimpse of the Shosho out at sea and looked back to the 'bar' before singing the lyrics to the song with a voice that overshadowed his ability to play guitar and could serenade a sun to sleep. He calmly looked around and put a little fire in his voice to let it carry so that most could hear it, doing his best to keep from ruining it.
 
Bar

Ramiro watched as one of the Elysians bumped his way up to the makeshift bar. Ramiro look uncertainly as this man slammed his fists down onto the bar and began staring at Ramiro. Resting his arms on the bar and leaning forward, Ramiro stare right back. His eyebrows lowered and narrowed, his eyelids shifted into a slight squint, and his jaw clenched as Ramiro adjusted into his old drill sergeant's glare. He stayed there for the few seconds that it took Bel to decide an order. When she gave her order Ramiro's expression immediately adjusted back to smiling and care-free.

"Sure thing, kid! I think I've got some champagne around here somewhere..." He let his voice trail as he leaned sideways to look under the bar. "Op! There it is." Ramiro reached under the bar and pulled out the champagne, setting it down onto the bar. He also grabbed a champagne flute and buried it into his case of ice so it could chill while he made the drink.

"I think it's best that I don't go throwing this one to the sky," he suggested with a grin as he twisted the wiring off the top, pointed the bottle towards the ocean, and popped the cork out.

Between the shuttle ride and being carried out to the beach the bottle had taken a little turbulence, so the cork got quite some distance as a gentle stream of white foam cascaded from the bottle. Ramiro held it there for a moment to let the spray subside before the hoisted the bottle up to the bar and setting it down on the bar. He then grabbed one of the shaker cups, scooped some ice into it, and set that down on the bar as well. Picking up the lemon juice, he poured just under a shot into the cup and tossed the juice back under the bar. Reaching into the bag that was hanging off the bar he pulled out a small bottle of sugar syrup and squirted some into the shaker cup as well. Finally, he pulled out the gin and stuck a spout in the bottle.

Ramiro leaned forward and resumed his glare at Bel. Without breaking eye contact, he started doing a couple simple tricks, mostly tosses behind the back since that was frankly easier with Ramiro leaned forward. He ended by lowering the bottle below the bar, grabbing it by the neck, giving a big tug to pull it straight vertically before releasing and letting it rise and fall, catching it by the neck with an under-hand swiping motion, passing it around his back to the other hand, passing it off again in front of him, and with a firm under-hand drip on the neck he made a large windmill motion and ended with the bottle upside down over the shaker cup, his hand in a standard over-hand grip around the neck now that the bottle was upside down. He held it there for a little under two seconds - he made the drink a little stronger than normal - before flipping the bottle right side up, and then reaching down and placing it below the bar. He still hadn't broken eye contact.

He capped the shaker cup and grabbed it around the rim, wrapping his thumb and forefinger around the top. With one hand he shook the shaker cup. He finally had to break eye contact to turn to his ice crate and pull the flute out, now with a chilly mist clinging to it. He dug the flute through the ice to fill it about halfway before setting it on the bar, emptying the contents of the shaker cup to the glass, and the topping it off with the champagne.

Ramiro's expression brightened back up as he placed the champagne back under the bar. He put on a big smile and chuckled to himself as he lifted the drink and placed it at the far end of the bar. "One 75, m'lady," he flattered.

Now that he was done putting a drink together Ramiro turned his attention back to the other conversation.

"Probably a good idea not to get into a measuring contest. You'd both win and lose. Everyone's done something, and everything is different. Sure I've been around for a while, sure I've done some pretty cool and badass things in my time. What with the war and all. But since being assigned to the then Ketsurui-Taisa I've spent more time off this ship than on it, so you could say people like me are as much to blame as anybody."

Ramiro paused as he sipped his drink.

"Besides, it's what the post-war does. You're greatest friends are the people you marched through hell and back with, doesn't matter how brief it was or how long ago it was. And then when it ends everybody goes through the phase a little. I was immediately placed in a classroom, so I'll freely admit that I went through it much sooner and in a much different way than she did. But that being said, you're right that little gatherings like this will help. It's honestly how most of her earlier crew connected in the first place. Plus, with the impending war, I'm sure that battle comradery will kick into place."

Ramiro turned to look at Wazu. Lifting his glass, he clinked his glass against Wazu's. "So here's to staying on mission. Not only is it the best thing for her, but it's the best for our people and our homes."
 
Hanako's World
Beach


Masumi sat herself down on the sand an arbitrary number of steps away from where the fire pit was and smiled as she listened to Takao's voice ring through the din of voices chattering. She much preferred being able to focus in on his and listen to the smooth, mellow acoustic song.

She almost said aloud, "I like this very much." The realization that she nearly had said it with no one especially willing to listen to her say it made her purse her lips tightly and she, instead, leaned back, pushing her fingertips into the sand behind her.
 
Out in the Surf

Saiga's plan had been similar to Becker's: a little bit of exercise and a little bit of solitude. But he had no problem with the admiral's company. After all, the last time he'd been in the water with a Ketsurui princess on her namesake world she'd kissed him. Thankfully there were no traitor samurai giving chase this time. Recalling how Kotori tasted brought a devious smile to the Chusa's lips as Hanako came closer, though his happy reverie was probably more in remembrance of the action and danger that filled that day than his barely-intimate exchange.

"You two have the right idea, Shosho," Saiga commended, referring to her minimal swimwear as he floated on his back with legs extended lazily in front so that only his head and neck were exposed. The Chusa was too tall to stand and still enjoy the balmy sea wrap around him, least he towered more than a foot above the small Neko commander. "Modesty has defeated me, though. Perhaps the strong current here will steal my shorts!" he joked, not yet drunk enough to follow through anytime soon.

The stawberry beefcake engineer's distant crossing made Saiga wonder if Becker was one of theirs. Hanako had no samurai guard, and the man kept himself in excellent shape characteristic of a veteran operative. That thought passed quickly, though, ending with Saiga figuring he'd have been informed already if it were true. Or not. It didn't particularly matter.

"How do you know this place?" he asked Hanako while a duo of long, snaky fish with bright, glowing teal dots along their dorsal twisted through the water a few meters away. "We could not ask for a better example of your world, Shosho, though this is admittedly my first time here."
 
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Bar-> Beach

Freyja realized her decision to go to Jackson for drinking advice was the right call and took a big gulp of rum. She was starting to feel a little less stressed. Her tail was slowly moving back and forth. An overwhelming desire to dance hit her. "Hey, there's no music. We need music!" She called out. Her eyes settled on Mehitabel and she took another drink. "Feathers, get some mu-" Freyja stopped mid-sentence. Her ears perked up. Apparently, she hadn't noticed that Takao was singing before.

"Jax-san, come with me." She said grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the sounds of music. Freyja had somehow decided Jackson was going to be her entertainment. "I need to dance." When she stopped and turned back to him, her eyes were glittering. "I would rather dance to something faster, but this will do for now. You don't mind dancing with me, right, Jax-san?" Her tone was friendly but this was obviously one of those dangerous questions that strike fear into the hearts of men. There was only one right answer.
 
Hanako's World, Wood Pile

With general approval of the weapon's involvement Candon kneeled by the box to prepare it for action. He screwed the bottle of plasma gas into to fuel port, choosing plasma over gel so no harsh chemicals would be left behind.

Loaded with gas he activated the priming system. Whirring sounds came from the pump as it compressed the fuel and an orange glow came from the end of the barrel as the glow plug warmed. From a pouch in the box he removed his SACOS which he brought to protect his eyes.
He was ready and announced such.

"Alright, stand back," Candon shouted as he waited for the crew to find safety. He aimed into the pit but facing the sea to avoid setting foliage alight, crouching low for his own safety.

"Range is hot! Firing!"
The gas erupted into an intense inferno filling the pit in a bright ball of flame.
One Ketsurui, two Ketsurui, three Ketsurui-stop.

The inferno vanished leaving the logs burning furiously and the sand somewhat glassy.

Candon stood back up, a little more red than usual, but overjoyed by the result.
"Who's getting me a drink?"
 
Tsuguka raised her glass to the toast rather silently, ambivalent eyes suggesting she had only just made the connection Wazu and Ramiro might know each other from some time in the past. Not much to say about comparing proficiency levels. The neko could take a punch, but mentally, it still felt like they were the child here...

A hug, that was the best method of closure she could provide to the interaction with her broody nepleslian vet. They were practically the only neko of comparable height to the scientist, after all. A short motion the length of a breath, but not something the stern creature gave to just anyone.

"Well, officer or not, you have every medal in the book, Juni." Body turned back to the counter, so that she could direct the speech more properly towards Ramiro. After picking up the pace on her first drink in order to partake in the toast, the clinically direct demeanor seemed to have had gained a whole extra level of vitality. "I would love to hear some more of your tactical insight... At a more appropriate time, of course. Maybe some unique shuttle maneuvers, even? Data on the mental developmental cycles of other nekovalkyrja could also be useful in terms of-"

Feathers brushing across her back unexpectedly. Tsuguka cut off, and realized that the man was not in fact ignoring her, but locked in gaze with Mehitabel whilst preparing her a particularly complex drink. Looking back and forth between them didn't seem do break the cycle...

Was the Elysian ignoring her after that whole escapade on their black yacht? Did she disapprove of Tsuguka locking herself away when they got back, for intensive VR training? Had the intensely analytical part of Metty's personality finally won out and turned her into an even more shut-in drone than her red friend? Had-

A hug. Closure, method, provide, best.

"Your wings are disturbing to me, Nito Hei. They remind me of an old girlfriend. And also a seagull." Hands still on shoulders, concerned that the woman might not absorb this crucial information.... Well, information crucial to a person who doesn't normally drink alcohol. Or hug people. "I hope this doesn't come between us. I respect your concise nature. It's a valuable resource."
 
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Tan cringed and ducked as the fire pit came to life. It was fortunate that glasses of vodka weren't meant to come filled, or her drink might have been a serious casualty. As the heat died down, she sprung back upright and turned back to Wazu to ask, not entirely seriously, "When you mentioned getting focused again, were you talking about using stimulants?"

As a former SAINT agent who'd left the field only a year prior, it wasn't her preference to dwell on the topic of her past experiences in the Star Army, anyway.
 
Hanako's World
Beach


Masumi felt the heat on her face and enjoyed it immensely, smiling now as she looked at the orange and red flames licking at the night sky as they dispersed warmth into it. She felt comforted and calmed by the fire now blazing and listened to Takao's voice and nothing else.
 
Was the abrupt change a bit too strong for the red one? Was he being too aggressive now? Should he dial it back? Did he hit the sauce a little too fast? Wazu knew the answer to at least one of these was Yes. There was certainly that warm feeling that came from ingested alcohol dissolving away certain fears and inhibitions. Wazu would quickly pour himself another drink, reminding himself the only way out is through! The red one seemed to have lost interest, but there was something he could leave her with.

"Now may not be the best time, but perhaps we could get together later and talk about the Eucharis' armor team. I think it may be easier for me to talk with you about how I can help."


Wazu tried not to look at Tan as she asked her question... but it felt awkward to just ignore her... he ended up slowly turning his attention her way. His eyes looking her over as he tried to determine what race she was.

"It... is not exactly a great topic to bring up around Yamatains. Cultural Taboos..."
 
Bar -> Fire

Tan sipped her drink, sagely. "Alright, we can always talk in the medbay."

Hailing from the Medigeshrin Sea, Tan was most certainly Nepleslian, though the memory of her more distant ancestors around Oz and the Ring of Fire many thousands of years past had faded into complete obscurity. Her skin was twice as dark as its natural light brown shade, and she had a long face, small ears, high cheekbones, a narrow jaw and a rounded chin. Her eyes were obscured by opaque glasses under finely-groomed eyebrows, and she had mid-neck, straight, greasy black hair that was tied back at the moment.

Noting that Candon the Pyromancer was still seeking refreshment, she picked up one of Wazu's drinks and carried it over to him. "For your next trick, see if you can make this drink disappear."
 
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