jaegeracademy | Yancy logs are party logs get in here

Entry tags:

Yancy logs are party logs get in here

Characters:Beckets and more Beckets. Also you guys if you want. Just keep your feet outta the ice cream, that's Yancy's job.
Location:In the city, at a pick up game of soccer in the park, then in a pub, then eventually back at the residential quarters.
Date/Time:Saturday March 15 all day (Cadets in the afternoon don't skip class guys!)
Summary:The Beckets are enjoying their down time, playing soccer and drinking with the locals. They don't call it a day until someone hurts themselves, and then they switch to movie night and keep laughing anyway. Being rockstars is pretty good.
Additional Notes:Med staff (and maybe other staff or Rangers) feel free to pop in and interrupt the movie, everyone else, first 3 threads or make a convenient excuse about getting lost. We also accept those. As usual you can make your own and tag around, Becket logs are party logs. Also be aware that Drifting has annoying after effects, so you can expect Yancy and Raleigh to be finishing each others' sentences and reading each others' minds a bit after last week's deployment. It'll wear off eventually, don't worry.

The weekend fresh off of a successful kill is a perfect time to hit the city. There's a buzzing that follows Rangers where they go on most days, but right now especially people are happy to see them around. They score free breakfast and get invited to a soccer game with some local guys, all before Yancy would usually even drag himself out of bed.

Their team wins at soccer too, so of course they hit the bar with the rest of the guys. There are free drinks and laughs to be had, Spanish to bungle and breasts to autograph. With the breech so quiet, a few drinks and some R&R are just what the doctor ordered. Yancy's been going back over footage all week and he's ready to cut loose and have some fun. Raleigh's always ready.

Maybe a little too ready. The evening sees Yancy determinedly dragging Raleigh out of the bar, before he can have "just one more" with the bartender who asked them to sign her Gipsy tatt. Yancy's got her digits tucked away in a pocket, but he won't be using them. The bank teller who'd taught him how to drink pisco (and promised next time to show him how to drink something with the word malice in it, which sounded promising to him,) had been more to his tastes.

At the moment, though, drunk kid brother takes precedence. Since no one in that bar needs to see Raleigh's ass or knuckles, it's time to get the kid outta there before he starts waving one of the two around. Of course it was easier when he was a skinny kid, but Yancy has years of practice dragging the younger Becket around. His shoulders are sturdy enough to support Raleigh easily, though it would help if Raleigh would quit squirming and getting excited. Maybe sugary alcoholic cola drinks had been a bad idea. "You better not ralph on me." He mutters, reigning Raleigh in again from another random attempt at wandering, but it's a fond sort of threat.

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Edited 2014-03-14 15:45 (UTC)

"Ooft-" Raleigh exclaims, plopping down in the grass and reaching for the bottle of water Yancy had thought to throw at him earlier. It's a ten minute break before they finish the game they'd been invited to join and Raleigh is glad for it.

Not that, you know, he's tired or anything, but it's hot and they've been hauling ass so it's not strange to want to sit down for a minute or two, wipe the sweat out of his eyes and catch his breath.

He likes Soccer well enough but never played much having taken to swimming and hockey, but sport is sport and enjoys being physical so who is he to say no?

"Hey-" He asks in the general vicinity if anyone is listening to Raleigh as he wipes his forehead with the shirt he'd seen fit to peel off. "Do we have any more of those oranges?"

"One." Herc tossed it his direction with the absent kind of attention that came with the confidence in the other party. He'd not joined in with the game. He was taking the opportunity to rest in the outdoors, an opportunity he'd not really had since being moved to Valparaiso. Not every aspect of seniority was a perk. "Enjoy."

Yancy, meanwhile, had been all too excited to kick a ball around with some of these guys. If there was one thing this city seemed to be amazing at, it was soccer. He'd never had so much fun in a pickup game before, and it probably showed. He was exhausted, but not ready to hang it up yet. Instead he skidded to a stop by shoulder slamming Raleigh, the way siblings who are much younger than the Beckets often do when they feel like being obnoxious at each other.

"We'll get more. Oranges for everyone. Millones de naranjas!" The last part, of course, is strictly for the other players. They cheer, even though they probably don't give a shit about the oranges. Everything a Ranger yells should be cheered after a great victory. They're all alive and very happy to be so.

Raleigh catches the orange right before getting Yancy's sweaty ass knocking him back with an ooft. He makes a swipe at his brother and joins in the cry,

"Yeah! VIVA NARANJAS!"

Because why the hell not.

It's only then he can turn and give Herc a grateful nod, digging his thumb into the fruit's navel and beginning to peel it.

"Good to see you out and about, sir. Do they know you've escaped?"

He hasn't had a chance to really say hello yet, and though he's run into Chuck a few times It's nice to see a familiar face. Teamed with a gentle rib over that exact seniority, he breaks the orange in half and offers it over. Sharing is caring, after all.

"Not yet. Thank God," he answered, humour in his voice despite his generally straight face. But he did accept the offered orange. "I'd be careful about makin' promises you're not sure if you can keep, though."

He split one of the segments, picking the seed out before popping the segment into his mouth. "Unless you know somethin' about incomin' shipments that I don't."

And that, he wouldn't doubt at this rate. He'd been in meetings, talking to brass - and he and brass didn't always get along, especially with how tight things were starting to get, the plans that the politicians were murmuring--

Herc stopped himself mid-thought. He'd come out here to get it out of his head, not wallow in it.

"Looks like you boys are havin' fun."

"You'd be hard pressed not to in this town." Yancy responds, picking up the conversation breezily. After a Drift it was often difficult to remember which things were directed at whom and why it made a difference. There's admiration on Yancy's face as he glances around at the locals they've been kicking that beat up ball around with. They're amazing players.

Next week he's coming back with the best ball he can get his hands on, and leaving it under a tree for them to find. They don't even need it, they're beating that old one up and down the turf like pro, but they oughtta have it. No one else will ever make better use of it.

"Mm," Raleigh agrees, splitting his half again and giving the quarter to his brother.

"It's nice being somewhere with inhabitable beaches."

And sun and surf and everything Anchorage doesn't have. Home is home and it always will be, but long as he's with his brother he doesn't much care where they are. And he's got to admit, humidity aside there are fer worse places to be stationed.

It was when he thought 'let's hope it stays that way' that Herc realised just how much of a defeatist he'd become. "It's a nice town," he said instead. "Don't let me stop you boys from having fun. I'm just enjoying some air that doesn't smell like machine oil."

And he had a feeling that, soon enough, there would be cameras showing up. It was a natural consequence of Rangers being out in public.

Yancy took the orange without even glancing up from his phone, just the same as Raleigh had handed it over without even being asked.

"Oranges are coming." Yancy grins, polishing his own segment off and getting back to his feet to stretch. Ten minutes in the grass and his muscles are already going tight, ugh. He used to be able to play soccer for days on end as a kid, but now he's pretty sure if he doesn't start moving again soon he'll be sore in the morning. To Herc he offers a nod. "How 'bout that? Must be the citrus trees keeping the air fresh in this city."

"Must be. Welcome change, I admit. I know some things keep getting more and more rare as all this goes on," he said, shaking his head though he picked out another section to eat. "You two go ahead and have a good game once you're done with your orange - I'll fend off the press. I think I see a camera on the way."

Alright, now this is where the party is really at. Loud music is thumping through the place, bright colored lights flashing from a very small rig in the corner. It's not exactly a state of the art Discoteca but the music and liquor are flowing and so Raleigh can't find it in himself to care.

At the moment Raleigh is at the bar, leaning up with a shot of...something pressed to his lips in a plastic shot glass before he hears the song change and throws said shot up into the air.

"SWEET HOME ALABAMA!" He screeches along in time, immediately throwing himself into the throes of the crowd, shot splashing out and onto whatever poor unfortunate soul is closest.

Needless to say, Chuck got dragged. When he'd opened his door after the pounding knock and seen Raleigh standing there looking goofy as fuck and saying Bar, now! he'd...just decided why the hell not, they desserved it, it's his first kill, right?

So he's here.

And getting Raleigh's shot dumped all over his chest.

"Oi, Becket--!"

"Shit- sorry, man!"

But he's not really. Maybe a little but only in the sense that he now no longer has a shot and he figures licking it off Chuck is probably the worst idea ever.

It's also easier to turn back to the bar, get two more, and practically shove the second into Chuck's hand singing "Now Watergate does not bother me! Does your conscience bother you? TELL THE TRUTH BA NA NA NA NA NAAH NAAAH!"

Yancy gently removes that shot from Raleigh's hand before he can actually pass it off to Chuck. No, ya don't. He's not going to stop anyone else from buying the kid a drink, though. He's totally earned some celebration, too. But these guys don't have to work with Chuck's father, or worry about paying Raleigh's bail if something gets outta hand there.

Yancy tips the shot back and winks at Chuck. No hard feelings, kid. "How's it goin'?"

Uuugh now he's gonna smell like whipped cream vodka all night, what the fuck are you actually drinking Raleigh? Chuck scowls, brushing at his shirt but whatever, he's drunk enough to only be mildly irritated and Raleigh's screeching is pretty distracting.

And Yancy that's a bitch move for a celebration but it's not like he can't get another drink from someone else.

"Would've been better if that went down my throat," he says airily, though it's only a matter of time before one does appear in his hand, compliments of the pretty local across the bar. He winks at her, and tips it back.

"Better, now."

"Hey hey heeey--" Raleigh protests, dropping the song long enough to follow the shot back into Yancy's hand.

Never you mind what it is, Chuck, just put it inside you.

Unless Yancy takes it away again.

In which case there's nothing he can do about it.

...probably a good thing he didn't say that out loud. For several reasons.

...it's also probably a good thing to note that Raleigh Becket isn't great at holding his liquor. He hits it too hard too fast and it flies right to his head which has ended in some pretty spectacular nights...fights...bar dancing. Shut up.

Relax, kid. Yancy's only going to stop Raleigh from buying you shots, the rest of the bar can do whatever they want. Just don't embarrass yourself too much, there's always someone with a camera phone around waiting to sell pics to the press.

The shot is pretty foul, for that matter. Yancy is more of a single malt type of guy, so sugary vodka is a sacrifice to choke down, but not a big one. Not even a new one, God love his idiot brother.

"If Herc Hansen takes a swing at you kid, I'm gonna let him." Yancy replies, but there's a fond hair ruffle to follow it up. That'll keep Raleigh busy for a bit, he hates when his hair gets mussed like that.

"How's it feel to join the club?" Is his answer to Chuck, because he's ignoring that protest. And trying to subtly remind the kid to only get into as much trouble as he wants to publicly admit to later. Raleigh making an idiot of himself is no big deal, but Chuck is young and green and way more apt for harsh public scrutiny.

"Pretty good," he admits, setting the glass back on the bar and thanking his lucky stars that the shot hadn't been some disgustingly sweet concoction that apparently Raleigh was fond of.

It'd tasted like...whiskey. Maybe bourbon. Whatever it was, it'd been fucking delicious.

And that's what you get for stealing drinks, Yancy. Nasty shit.

True to course, Raleigh makes a noise and drops the plastic cup back on the bar to paw at his hair.

Yancy is the expert at making his brother shut up for a few blessed seconds. Years and years of practice but, likewise, Raleigh can wind Yancy up with a word and a pointed look so they'll call it even.

"Good." The question was just as much to make sure no one was giving Chuck a hard time, but that doesn't seem to be the case. It's impressive the paparazzi haven't descended in a swarm yet, but maybe that's the benefit of getting out of Alaska and onto new turf. Things are different here.

Chuck snorts at Raleigh's reaction, lips pulling into a grin as he shakes his head.

"Looked pretty good out there," he says casually, eyes bright, hands now in his pockets.

So aside from the alcohol splashed into his shirt from a rather intoxicated Raleigh Becket, Chuck is having a pretty good time. He's had a few beers and a shot but it's been over the course of his time at the bar so he's not wasted.

Yet.

He's also under the legal limit but fuck if he isn't getting some rockstar treatment regardless; patrons clap him on the shoulder and congratulate him and more than one pretty girl propositions him and Chuck blushes fire engine red and backs away into the crowd.

Wanna buy him a drink?

There was this thing called 'trying to be respectable.' Mike had been doing it since he'd shipped back in.

Here, now, tonight, he's failing. There's a pretty girl sitting on his knee where he's sitting on a stool at the bar, sipping something that isn't alcoholic but looks it. She has one hand in his hair, he has one of those sleepy smiles that says, quite plainly, that he doesn't expect to be there all night.

Plans can change.

Well. Yancy's not about to interrupt that, and even if it did happen to be booze in the glass he wouldn't rat the guy out. Mike just gets a friendly nod and smile as Yancy grabs the bartender's attention. It's about time to try and get some water down Raleigh's throat, and Yancy could use another beer anyway.

He hopes for Mike's sake he didn't sign that girl's ass earlier. She looks kinda familiar, and that's probably sort of a boner kill. Yeah, make it an extra bright smile. Sorry, dude.

Edited (idk where that extra on came from sorry) 2014-03-15 01:40 (UTC)

Raleigh also sends his love, a sloppy grin on his face as he claps a hand on Yancy's shoulder from nowhere, says something pretty unintelligible and then attempts to stick his tongue in Yancy's ear.

Don't worry Mike, at least your chances of getting laid tonight are better than the Becket's. Collectively.

Mike smiled at them both, amusement plain, before he whispered something in the girl's ear. She turned her head, watched them, smiled, and then crooked her finger. Beckoning? Offering? Who knew. Mike, meanwhile, grinned and winked. If the Beckets were expecting him to be turned off, they'd picked the wrong person. It took someone less perverse than Mike not to take the situation and run with it.

Oh, for...

Yancy gave Raleigh a gentle shove, right to a bar stool. Down boy, sit. Stay. He wiped his ear off without giving it much thought. It wasn't the first time Raleigh's saliva had ever gotten onto him. But it meant he was right about the water, which he pushed Raleigh's way, too, and turned his back casually to shield Raleigh from noticing the invitation. Yeah, nope. Kid brother was going home to bed, and Yancy was going to have to wait til he fell asleep to set off the fireworks.

He did strike up a polite conversation, though. Because if baby brother wasn't drooling on things right then he might be up for that 'movie.' "How's it goin' Mike?" He's pretty sure Bouncer Cadet was named Mike. Might've been surer a few drinks ago, but whatever.

"Goin' pretty well," Mike answered with an amused smile. "I'm enjoying myself, anyway. How about you, Renata?"

"I'll have more fun later," she grinned, and Mike grinned right back.

"Makes two of us." He paused. "At least. Figured I'd offer, what with that smile you were giving me."

Renata laughed warmly. "He is the one who signed my ass."

"Well, tell you what - I promise I'll take a good picture for you so the autograph stays past a shower."

"Oh that's Sharpie. It'll be on there for days." Yancy assured. He licked his lips and thought about it for a moment, because frankly it'd been a couple weeks and in spite of Raleigh's favorite pass time of calling Yancy old, 25 wasn't old enough not to be tempted.

He glanced back at his brother and sighed. Yeah, nope. There was no way he could put the kid in a cab when he was all the way to the ear licking phase. "Mmm. Rain check?"

"Aww." Renata pouted playfully and Mike mirrored her look, turning up the puppy-factor of his eyes until he couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, rain check. But I'll remember," he teasingly threatened. "And don't worry, I'll be back before curfew."

Renata cooed, lifting a hand to Mike's cheek. "You poor cadets. They work you to death."

"They kick our asses so we can kick kaiju ass, like Yancy, here," Mike answered with a wink. "Keeping you beautiful things safe."

Yep, it's definitely time to get out of there. Yancy should be immune to puppy eyes by now, but he isn't. He throws them both a wink and drags Raleigh to his feet. The kid can dance on the other side of the bar. "See ya around, Mike. Renata."

Mike gave him a smile. "See you around, Yancy. My bunk's always open." Nice little figure of speech there to say goodbye on - especially since his was a communal bunk.

Yancy's ankle is swollen, though the bucket of cookie dough ice cream he has it propped up on is helping. He'd asked for anything but cookie dough, so naturally Raleigh had brought him this. He might've rolled his eyes, but he scooped a little out anyway and ate it without any outward complaints.

At least the movie wasn't bad.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yancy logs are party logs get in here

SOCCER/PARK

OPEN TO ALL

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coordinated Becket attack

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Sorry. Holday weekends and me...

No worries!

BAR

ALSO OPEN

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jacking this sup

lmfao SUP YANCE

/WHINE YAAANNNCCYYYY

shh you're too loud again

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NO /SCREAM YOU CAN'T BOSS ME AROUND IN PUBLIC I WILL MAKE AS MUCH NOISE AS I WANT

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100000% open

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DRIVE BY

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Because I never get to use this one hah

It's a good one!

STUMBLING HOME

BECKET QUARTERS (for Raleigh and/or Rangers and med staff)