|Skullcrushers And Other Such Nonsense|
|Summary:||Sgt. Castus, seeking tools of the trade, has a little conversation with a NLM Corporal|
|Cast:||Lucius, Cpl. Louie Horizon|
Landing Bay <Hancock Station>
- This incredible chamber sports almost a square mile of poured plascrete, all watched over by a high communications tower. Most of the ceiling of this chamber is of a lightly buzzing blue energy, allowing ships in and out with a minimum of atmosphere loss. Cheery lighting fixtures line the walls in stark contrast to the otherwise utilitarian nature of the bay. There is a set of double doors near the back of the bay, manned by half a dozen armed New Luna Militia members.
Looking bored as is his usual on station in the past little bit, Lucius stands near a portion of crates near the back of the landing bay. He currently is lifting free weights of varying size, changing his exercise every ten or twelve repetitions.
A man of about 5'6" makes his way over to Lucius, hands tucked into his pockets. Just the quarter master's assistant, Louie, no one all that important. He chews casual on a straw and makes his way across to Lucius. To be completely honest, it looks like he slept in his uniform.
For a few moments, Lucius is too busy grunting and puffing as he performs some skullcrushers, brutal exercises where one raises the weights in the air so as to fully extend and work the triceps. After putting the weights down and grabbing his bottle of water, though, the sweating man looks on over to Louie, arching an eyebrow. "Hey Corp. How ya doing?"
"Meh," Louie mumbles, giving a shrug of shoulders. "Yah know wha' it's like... Ya get couped up 'ere, no decent lookin' women... All hair as yah mother's clit and upper lip. What 'bout yahself Sarge?" His voice is rather nasal, and his breath could be classed as offensive.
Lucius doesn't seem to notice or mind the breath. That probably comes from years of living with foul smelling soldiers in gritty barracks, trenches or field camps. But he does grin. "Hoping to clear up my fucking name from that fiasco on Vollista and get myself put back into active duty. S'not too bad though.. y'should pay yourself a visit to Greenville. Lotta premo snatch."
"Wanna get me some o'that Sivadian pussy," Louie says, shrugging yet again. He places his hand in front of him, and then acts like he's making love to an imaginary woman, before giving a couple of slaps to the air. "Just find me one of those dirty specialist sex slave or somethin'... Dirty, dirty girl."
Lucius gives a hearty chuckle, deciding to take a seat on one of the crates that he previously stood by. Again, he squirts some water into his mouth. "They're overrated, buddy. Though I gotta admit.. some of 'em from West Enaj, I think it is.. fucking raunchy." A pause. "So was there anything you needed, bud? Just out of curiosity."
"Not really," Louie replies, shugging yet again. Their's a pause, and then a wince at the action. "Fuckin' Christ's hairyballs, think I gotta a bloody cramp... Ya wanna rub it for me?"
"Ah, that's too bad. See I've been a looking for one of those really top of the line gunsmithing kits for the past few weeks, but all the prices that I got suggested to me were exorbant. Fucking don't feel like wasting my cash on something I can maybe get somewhere else. The ones we have here, though, they don't have all the advanced tools I want, looks like." Lucius shrugs, wincing at Louie. "You're fucking sick. You do really need one of those pleasure slaves."
"Fucking faggot," Louie grumbles, as he leans forward and rubs at the area in between his shoulders. He looks up to Lucius through one eye. "What Louie be lookin' to ya, peice of homo Martian meat to be pounded... Don't do Martians, sorry." He twists this way and that, just trying to find a good spot. "Might be able to get somethin' like what ya after... Gonna owe me a favour, right?"
"Sure, bud. Maybe I can arrange for you to get a woman who doesn't have more hair than your mom's upper lip, or whatever the fuck it was you were rambling on about. To be honest, I couldn't really tell. I s'pose you do Lunites though, huh?" Despite his words, the way Lucius says them is in an amused, jovial tone. "More realistically, what would you be requiring in the way of cash payment?"
"Sarge... Ya be asking for a favour from Louie, yeah?" the Assistant replies. "Favour's from Louie, they aren't exactly cheap... How much ya thinking of paying?" There comes a pause as he stands up straight, still trying to get that cramp out. "Because ya know Sarge... Might be a shame if somethin' were to happen, ya know?"
Lucius doesn't seem to be really affected by the 'threat' presented by Louie, considering this proposition for a moment. "Seven grand in rayden. The problem is I won't have the full sum of that for a little while. I've got a lot of contacts out of the militia though.. I'm prepared to do a favour or two for you outside of these kind of things. I worked for the Warren, you know. What else do you want?"
"Then Sarge, ya gonna be waiting until /ye've/ got the mollah, right?" Louie replies, as he shakes his head. "But the favour's more impor'ant, right? Word of this to anyone... Ya hairlipped ma, or sexchanged old man... Gonna be some problems, yeah?"
"I've got that side of the business down, thankyouverymuch, Corp." Lucius asserts with a wink. "But are you absolutely /sure/ there's nothing I can do for you? I'm certain that you've got shit that needs to be done on the down low. I'm not on active duty right now, which means I can slide about. And depending on what ya need done.. well, I've got the history for it."
Louie just gives a sigh, and then pauses for a moment. The assistant look towards Lucius and then undoes his fly, with a sly grin on his face. "Ain't gonna be getting caught, right?"
Lucius grunts, "I think I'll stick with cash payment then, ya crude bastard, unless ya have some serious errands. Which I think we can presume you don't." He rolls his eyes.
"Not at the moment," Louie replies, as he does his fly once more. "But we'll be in touch we wan' them done, right? Ya think ya can handle a bit of wet work on the side. Did work for the done after all."
"Like you said, we'll discuss it when the time comes. The likely answer is yes." Says the Martian, oncemore rising up and putting his bottle on the crate he just sat on. Again, weights are picked up.
"Let me know Sarge when yer've got /our/ cash," Louie replies, as he starts to wonder off. "Got me a date with Specialist gone wild... Get a load away... Wanna come watch?"
"Be sure to write an after action report so that I can soak up all the juicy details, Corp." Answers Luc simply, starting oncemore with the weights. He moves them in cadence to work his shoulders.
"I'll film it for ya Sarge," Louie replies, as he looks back to the Martian. "I'll take it outta ya pay." There's a wink at the end, and he continues on his way, but siddles up beside one of the less attractive women. "Debby, Debby, Debby..." he trails off as he walks alongside her, trying his hardest to impress.
Lucius silently watches Louie walk away, shaking his head with a stiffled chuckle - stiffled, because it is eclipsed by the grunt on his last two repetations of lifting. "Fuuuck."