Let's Start a Riot (EVENT)

[Furby, J.]

"Girl, you need to relax."

Jayson smirked at Lance Corporal Avery as he shook his head at the platoon's RTO. She was unhappy with the idea of participating in an illegal party and adamantly advised the two Marines in her room of that at every possible chance available. It seemed to Furby that she was attempting to convince herself that she would not like it moreso than actually being a hundred percent against the idea.

It was a game that she was playing, and Furby was not ignorant to it. He was a Marine that played games with people all the time. Most people saw him as an unmotivated man with no desire to serve in the military. While that was partly true, it was mostly a geniously designed façade. When Jayson was conscripted, he was admittedly angry about it. The military had, in essence, robbed him of his future goals and dreams after all.

However, over the last few months -- and especially recently -- be found the Marine Corps and the lifestyle to be growing on him. While he still complained incessantly about anything and everything, and found that there were aspects of the military lifestyle and job that irked his nerves beyond the measure of words, he could not say with one hundred percent honesty that he hated being a Marine.

Few jobs allowed someone to play with guns and get paid for it, after all.

He nodded to himself with certainty. Wilkas may have been a lot of things, but she was no Jayson Furby. Her games were probably enough to have Avery fooled, but not him. He knew that somewhere deep down Wilkas was excited for the opportunity to drink, have a good time, and relax. If she wanted to fool him, she'd have to try harder than that.

"Av," he said, addressing his friend, "you realize she's playing you for a fool right now, right? This whole 'I'm against the party' spiel is just a clever façade, dude."

Lance Corporal Avery stood there, regarding his friend for a long moment with a look that told him he was carefully considering his words. A second later the Lance Corporal chuckled. "That was a big word for you, bro. Does your brain hurt yet?"

Damnit! Furby sighed, shaking his head. The machine gunner knew he was right! He knew it! But the asshole would never admit it out loud. Typical Avery.

"Screw you, dude!"

"Nah, bro," Avery replied, shaking his head, chuckling. "I only go for women."

Furby huffed in defeat and turned to PFC Wilkas. "Let's go," he said, and then started towards the door. When he reached the door he heard the voice of the RTO behind him. What she said made him stop dead in his tracks. He whipped around on his heels, shock written across his face. "You guys hear the rumor with Faust? Apparently she is seeing someone."

Faust? The insane German blonde with a fiery temper and a penchant for mass destruction? Furby shook his head at the thought. There was no way he could see her with anyone, romantically or strictly sexual. Either option required a level of vulnerability that Furby thought her incapable of obtaining.

The Lance Corporal glanced at his friend, whom appeared equally shocked, and then back at Wilkas. "You're talking about our Faust? Second Team's lead, right?"

He waited for her to reply and said, "there's no fucking way. How? Who? Why?"

[Wilkas, G.]

Wilkas folded her arms at Furby's response, looking like someone's younger sister who just proved them to be wrong and herself to be right. "Call it what you wish" She responded calmly to it, she was not certain of her true feelings about the party. Yes, part of her wished to be excited for it, but... Getting drunk as that was what she believed drinking led to, failed to reach her as a good idea. Particularly as she believed herself to be rightly or wrongly on a watch list over a particularly private event which she fully intended to deny any and all involvement in. She may even slap the asker, provided the asker does not be in the possession of too many bars or stars on his or her shoulders.

She chuckled at Avery's comment. "Guess you'll have to find someone else to take to the dance then." Grace teased him playfully, following along quickly as he exited the room in time to hear his response about Faust and her seeing someone. It came as a shock to her when Wilkas first heard it. To date or even do the beast with a million backs with someone like Faust, meant the marine, sailor or ODST responsible required a whole new record of crazy. Faust scared Grace significantly, particularly because of her considerably violent temper, the temper that usually made an unwelcome appearance whenever Michelle decided it to.

She nodded hastily. "Yes! I mean can you imagine who it might be?" Grace had heard it from a few marines but also a friendly ODST who she sometimes bumped into at meals. The marines never objected to his presence nor did Wilkas, partly because she had long since friendzoned the poor Helljumper but mostly due to the harsh fact she failed to notice the rather blunt flirting.
"Well you know the ODST who sometimes eats with me in the mess?" She swept on without giving them time to answer the question. "Anyway he said one of his helljumpers saw her kissing someone." She smiled, shaking her head slightly. "Kinda feel sorry for him, I mean I heard she eats her dates like a spider or a praying mantis." She laughed quietly, looking over her shoulder half expecting to see a furious Faust behind her. She was distinctly pleased to not see her.

"Why?" The question left her confused. "I guess as she is human underneath all that and has the same desires the rest of us do... Just that she is distinctly more vocal about ripping you apart during training than say a normal NCO would be." The temper of Michelle Faust was the stuff of nightmares, the thoughts about her being overly intimate, disgusted Grace but also revealed to her a whole new light for her to view Faust in.
"I'm guessing its not either of you, one thing you are both still alive and secondly not covered in bruises." She giggled nervously. "Please tell me she is not behind us."

[Davis, E.]

Finally, with only moments to spare, the remainder of his team showed. Thankfully the aviator was long gone now, and their cover had been maintained. It was now time to cut loose and really relax. There would have to be the required ground rules, but they had done it. After this was the matter of how many consequences they could avoid by slipping back to their billets without being noticed. And hope they couldn't tie the Lieutenants gastric distress to them. That would be a severe punishment. He put all those thoughts aside and watched his team scurry into the simulator.

"You can go get changed in a minute," he tried to grumble. Instead, he just smiled. It was too good of a day. "First I need to get this party started."

Punching a button on the remote that Curtis had given him, Davis started the lockdown protocol for the simulator. The vault like door slowly closed, echoing across the cavern that was the simulator. The sound of the heavy latches and tumblers acted like a siren call and the scores of people started to make their way back into the main building. Davis hit another button on the remote and it turned on the additions they had made to this sim. A stage rose out of the floor, the crates turned into a well worn bar, and strobes and laser lights started to flash through the smoke that drifted up from smoke machines. It was a club, in every sense of the word, and the anticipation could be felt growing in his "guests".

"Welcome Marines," he called, the remote doubling as a mic. "Refreshments will be up shortly. First, welcome to Club Bludhaven! I'll be your host and MC tonight. Remember that we are all in a world of shit if this gets out, so let's keep it reigned in. Private rooms are in the back, DJ Totino will take your music requests, and above all, LET'S PARTY!"

The first notes of music hit and Davis tore of his Multicam top, revealing a wife beater underneath. Slinging the uniform top off to the side, he pumped his fist in the air as he ran into the crowd, the junior enlisted breaking into a torrent of cheers. Curtis and Kensington were behind the bar, which was immediately rushed by people wanting their first taste of booze in months, and everything was as it should be. Davis found his team and gave them a knowing nod.

"Go enjoy yourselves Thirsty First," he barked. "That's an order!"

[Furby, J.]

Furby, Avery and Wilkas were the last to enter the simulator before the doors were sealed and the scenery changed. What had been an open field with a bunker at its center transformed into a large, open room -- a night club -- with all the encoutrements; a bar, dance floor, DJ stand, and fist-pumping music. Jayson cracked a grin as he inspected the crowd. He's never seen so many junior enlisted in one place without NCO supervision in his life.

The only NCOs present were the event's co-conspirators. None of them seemed to give a damn that they were breaking at least fifty regulations, and that was perfectly alright by Furby. It had been a long time since anyone had had an opportunity to unwind, so he planned to make the most of this night. He smiled and found Ward, whom was standing off to the side, seemingly lost amongst the crowd of people.

"Jonny," he called in an attempt to get the man's attention, practically shouting to be heard over the music. It was an odd choice, and an old one, but he didn't care. It was something he could jam to and that was all that mattered. "Dude, this is fucking awesome!"

Ward nodded, somewhat smiling, but said nothing. Avery shook his head at him, walking around Furby to stand in front of the green Marine. "Bro, Fox, you need to chill, man. You ain't gonna get many opportunities to relax and be an idiot. Seize the moment, bro."

"I guess you're right," the Private replied.

"I know I am, bitch," Avery said with a grin. "Now get the fuck out there and have a good time. I don't know about you, but I'mma 'bout to recon the bar."

"So am I," Furby interjected.

"Fuck it."

The three turned to make their way to the bar when Corporal Davis appeared. Jayson almost instinctively straightened his posture. He had to force himself to relax. This was David's idea, after all. He was fairly certain he was not about to be screamed at. If he did, Furby would just use it as ammunition to complain, anyway.

"Go enjoy yourselves Thirsty First," Corporal Davis barked. "That's an order!"

Furby grinned from ear-to-ear. "'Rah, Corporal!"

Avery turned to Furby and smiled. "He just got ten times cooler, bro."

Furby nodded. Corporal Davis had always been sort of an enigma. The man was an NCO that always took his job seriously, and like Stone, stressed training like it was the mainstay of being a grunt. He'd heard a rumor that the man was a party animal; however, he'd never put any stock into them. Davis had never seemed like the type of guy to be so casual about grossly disregarding regulations.

So this all came as a huge surprise. Truthfully, he'd been suspicious of the event ever since Davis had brought it up. He's thought it sounded like some kind of elaborate trap. A means to find the troublemakers in the battalion and haze the shit out of them for their poor judgment or something. He wasn't sure what he thought it was going to be, but he doubted it was going to actually be a party.

However, he was more than happy to be wrong on this occasion.

"This is gonna be an awesome night," Furby declared.

Lance Corporal Avery nodded and glanced over at Wilkas. "Buy you a drink?"

Jayson shook his head. "I got her, Av."

Avery shrugged. "Aight. You got this, bro."

He grinned and looked back at the RTO. "What do you want to drink, or should I just surprise you?"

[Wilkas, G.]

Grace listened to the music, it was not something that she personally would have selected, preferring the Russian heavy metal which she introduced the fire team too earlier. They seemed to enjoy it, she was determined to convert them to what she saw as good music. Her first priority now however involved finding somewhere private and secure to warrant her changing into her civilian attire. 
She listened quietly to the bickering between the two marines who escorted her to the party. Maybe there was a romance going on their between the two of them? She kept such thoughts to herself, she had been about to declare that she would find somewhere to change when Davis appeared. 

"I am going to find somewhere to get changed." Grace said when both of them offered to buy her a drink before Furby secured the honour. She honestly had no idea what to say, so shrugged her shoulders and managed to reply. "Chardonnay?" She asked then politely excused herself. "I will be back in a minute." With that Wilkas disappeared off towards the back of the 'club' seeking out a private and no doubt secure location in which to get changed. If she failed to find one or it did not meet her distinctly high standard, she would remain in her current clothing instead. 
There was no way on earth that the radio operator would get changed in sub par conditions. This was to be a non-negotiable fact. Grace eventually discovered the changing rooms to be unsuitable, something about them failed to stick with her so she left instead. The short red head attempted to make her way back to the bar, she succeeded eventually after a noticeable absence. She offered no immediate explanation to it, but it was clear that she disliked the changing rooms produced for this operation.

[Ward, J.]

Ward stood amidst the crowd of junior enlisted that had congregated in the now-night club, unsure of what to do. It'd been a long time since he had been to a party, and the parties he'd gone to during his stint in high school had been no where near the scope and size of this. Corporal Davis had truly orchestrated what he believed to be a one-of-a-kind event, and because of it, he found himself lost in the sea of people.

Music began to play through the overhead speakers, blaring out a rock tune that Ward couldn't quite place. It sounded old. Extremely old, and thus he had trouble pinpointing it. Jon was an avid fan of classical music of all genres. He's cut his teeth on the music of the late Twentieth and early Twenty-First centuries. However, that didn't mean he knew every group that had existed back in that far gone era.

However, the music was good, and was enough to get his blood pumping. Ward watched from the sidelines as a plethora of Marines ventured over to the bar, while an even larger number still made their way over to the dance floor. If Jon were to guess, every junior enlisted man and women in the battalion had shown up to attend the night's festivities. How they had managed to sneak past their NCOs to arrive here was beyond him, but he was oddly glad for it. It laid the foundation for what he perceived would be a very good night.

Of course he still didn't quite fully agree with the whole ordeal, but he was beginning to warm up to the idea. Mulling over it beforehand and actually seeing it happen with his own two eyes were very distinctly different concepts. Standing where he was now, he found himself having a great deal of trouble coming up with a viable protest to what was happening.

Jon glanced down at his left hand, at the ring on his finger. He sighed inwardly. While he was here at a party surrounded by literally hundreds of people, Charlene -- his fiancé -- was back at home likely missing him dearly. He wished there were some way he could have brought his high school sweetheart here for the night, but they were literally hundreds of light-years away and, not to mention, civilians weren't allowed aboard military vessels without approval for the chain-of-command. Plus it wasn't like he could inform the higher-ups of his reasoning for requesting her permission to come aboard. Oh, yeah, I'd like my fiancé permission to come aboard for a night or two so we can attend a party that officially doesn't exist and then probably spend the next day in bed with her...

He chuckled at the thought.

"Jonny!" rang the voice of Lance Corporal Furby from somewhere to his left. He turned and saw him and Lance Corporal Avery approaching, Private First Class Wilkas trailing not too far behind. It was slightly odd to see that the Lieutenant's RTO had come to attend the party. Jon hadn't pegged her as the social gathering type of gal. He mentally shrugged. It wasn't like he expected Corporal Davis to be the type to host a huge party under the brass's radar either.

"Dude, this is fucking awesome," Furby declared, showing all his perfectly white teeth in a broad grin. The private nodded his head, not quite sure how to respond to that. He was still undecided on his feelings at the moment.

"Bro, Fox, you need to chill, man," Avery said, shaking his head. Ward regarded him with no expression at all upon his face. He intended to simply listen to what the machine gunner had to say. "You ain't gonna get many opportunities to relax and be an idiot. Seize the moment, bro."

"He's right, Devil Dog," a Marine from nearby said. The Marine was in civvies so he wasn't able to acquire the man's name and rank. "The Corps likes to keep us caged up like pitbulls, dog. They use us, abuse us, and when they need someone fucked up, they unleash us. Enjoy yourself while you can, brother-Marine, and welcome to the suck!"

Ward again nodded and looked back to Lance Corporal Avery. "I guess you're right," he replied.

Avery grinned. "I know I'm right, bitch! Now get the fuck out there and have a good time! I don't know about you, but I'mma 'bout to recon the bar."

"So am I," interjected Furby.

Ward contemplated it for a moment, wondering if he should go with them. There was no absence of things to do, but he wasn't exactly a "veteran" of these types of gathering, so he decided it'd probably be a sound idea to stick with the people he knew until he was comfortable venturing out on his own. "Fuck it," he finally proclaimed, falling into line behind them.

Just then Corporal Davis appeared as if out of a rice bowl, the NCO regarding them with a wide smile. There was a twinkle in his eyes that Ward hadn't noticed before. He seemed elated that his plans had finally come to fruition and that all was going smoothly.

"Go enjoy yourselves Thirsty First," the NCO barked enthusiastically, still grinning at the members of his fire team. "That's an order!"

Ward smiled, suddenly renewed with vigor. This couldn't be that bad. Right?

"Oorah, Corporal!"

As the fire team leader marched off, disappearing into the frenzy of people, the four friends made their way to the bar. Ward noticed that the song had died out and another song came on, the fast-paced best and the ambiance reinvigorating the crowd. Even more people started to make their way over to the dance floor, where now Marines were jumping, bouncing, and gyrating to the beat of the music. Jon recognized the song immediately.

It was Party Kraft by Ziandra, an underground electronica artist that had taken the Inner Colonies by storm over the last decade. Ambient, fast-paced, at-the-edge-of-your-seat style of music was her trademark, and it had made her a fortune in no time at all. Of course her music wasn't liked everywhere. People from Earth had never heard of her and many Outer Colony folk preferred a guitar and drums over an electronic, synthesized beat.

Jon shrugged. To each their own, he supposed.

When the quartet arrived at the bar, Ward approached it as his friends debated over what to get. He knew exactly what he wanted and he wasn't going to stand around and deliberate over it like a committee. Corporal Kensington looked up at him with a dish rag in his hand that he had been using to polish the metal surface of the bar. The NCO smiled. "What can I get for you, boot?" he asked.

It must have been a habit of all NCOs to just assume that he was a boot by looks alone. He had changed out of his cammies before the party had started, so there was no rank insignia displayed on his person. "How do you know I'm a boot?" he asked.

Kensington chuckled. "Because you came in here with Corporal Davis, so naturally, I can reduce you're in his team. And since the other two idiots on his team are infamous already, that leaves you as his new guy. Now, if we're done asking questions, what can I get you?"

Ward sighed and scratched at the back of his head. It seemed no matter where he went he was talked down to by an NCO. "I'll have a Budlight."

Kensington's brow arched in curiosity. "Budlight?" he asked.

"That's right," Ward replied. "Budlight."

The NCO turned bartender shrugged and grabbed a bottle from underneath the bar. He set the sixteen ounce bottle of liquor goodness down upon the bar and slid it towards him. "An odd choice for a Reach native, but I can dig it. Enjoy."

Ward nodded and grabbed the bottle, twisting the cap off, and taking a swig of the ice-cold liquid stored inside. Budlight was an easy beer to drink, and did not leave the aftertaste that some of its competing brands did. It was an import from Earth that surprisingly wasn't that popular on the Colonies as it was back on humanity's homeworld, but he didn't care about that. It was the choice beer that his father drank when he was home on leave and so naturally became his choice beverage. Although a Viery Lagger didn't sound too bad either.

"I think I'm actually gonna enjoy this, guys," he said to his friends. Tonight was going to be his night. He had an opportunity to really bon with his teammates, and he was not going to squander it.

[Davis, E.]

Drink in hand, Davis made his way out into the sea of marines on the dance floor. Laser lights, smoke, and music swirled together in the mass of bodies as he enjoyed himself in the middle of the floor. Unlike some of the other men in the crowd, he knew his way around a club. While there females were not dressed nearly as well as the last club he had been to (he was pretty sure he saw Wilkas still in uniform) it was still nice to see them with their hair down enjoying themselves. He staked out his share on the dance floor and waited for them to make the approach rather than chasing girls around the club. A couple of fresh faced Privates were starting to stalk down women like they did the Covenant, and the results were both pathetic and hilarious in equal measure. Davis just shook his head with a laugh, holding his place in the crowd and enjoying the tracks that Totino was playing.

“Hey there Devildog,” came a sweet voice over the music. “Helluva party you put on.”

Davis turned to see a pair of females with long hair standing there in partial civilian attire. They were nearly poured into the jeans they were wearing, and while the skivvy shirts were not overly flattering, they still seemed to work for them. The blonde who was doing the talking would have been wearing cowboy boots and a hat to match if they weren’t on the ship, Davis was sure of it, and the very idea made his mouth water. Her voice was sweet, with an accent that matched Stones, and the kind of girl that Davis would normally take home simply because he had a pickup truck. Too bad they weren’t somewhere else.

“Thanks,” he said, looking her and her raven haired friend over. “You ladies need a refill on your drinks?”

“No, but we heard that you’re one of the few men here capable of taking us both on,” the raven haired girl said. “We thought that we could move to a more private spot and get some hands on training.”

“You heard right,” Davis said, his wide, lopsided smile getting even broader. “But not tonight ladies. Wouldn’t be right for the MC to disappear on his own party.”

“Oh, come on Daddy,” the blonde pouted over the song. “We’ve been getting out of practice without shore leave.”

“You’ll have to find another sucker,” he said without losing his grin. “I’m off limits tonight ladies.”

Both of them left, their sweet smiles and cooing words lost in the indignant huff of being turned down. Odds were that they would be sharing a bed with each other after enough drinks had been consumed, and while Davis was risking his career with this party, he would for sure lose any chance of a career if word got out he was sleeping with junior marines. It was disappointing to say the least. They weren’t the only ones getting out of practice.

Satisfied that he still had the right stuff, he moved back off to find his team. He wasn’t sure how many more offers like that he could turn down. Having a few other guys around him would be enough to start acting as a deterrent, especially since Fox had a wedding band on. Besides, it was a chance for the five of them to really enjoy some down time. Besides, he needed another beer.

[Furby, J.]

Furby skillfully maneuvered his way through the crowds of junior enlisted Marines to the bar, Lance Corporal Avery and Private Ward in tow. When he reached the bar he half-sat upon the stool before it, eying the large selection of alcoholic beverages to choose from. Chardonnay, though an odd choice for a party of such means, was up on display, meaning the bar did, in fact, possess it. Jayson glanced back at Wilkas for a moment and grinned, shaking his head.

He would never understand why she chose Chardonnay over the plethora of other liquors out there. Jayson turned to Corporal Kensington and chuckled. "I'mma have Pearl Lagger, if you've got it, and a glass of Chardonnay for the beautiful Russian back behind me."

Kensington nodded, though his brow arched noticeably at the latter request, and turned to his back to the man. Lance Corporal Avery appeared beside him. "You got a bottle of Jack, Corporal?"

"Sure do," Kensington responded to the machine gunner without looking. "Jack Daniels comin' right up."

Avery grinned with teeth splayed and stepped back from the bar. Furby sat seething with anticipation as his order was filled by the NCO fulfilling the bartender role for the evening. Corporal Kensington set a glass bottle on the table with an almost florescent white liquid stored inside of it upon the bar and then a small wine glass. He better a bottle of Chardonnay into the air above the cup and poured a quarter of the bottle's contents into the glass. Furby nodded and took his drink and Wilkas. "Meet me over by Grace, bro," he said to Avery.

"Aight, Devil," he said with a wink. "Don't get her too fucked up now."

Jayson laughed and started to make his way back to the RTO when he spotted the likes of Corporal Davis approaching the bar. He raised his hands into the air, a lagger in one hand and Chardonnay in the other, and shouted, "Corporal! Over here!"

[Wilkas, G.]

Grace unfortunately found herself isolated by an overly friendly and distinctly amorous member from November company. For the most part she did not mind, it was rather amusing in a way. Yet also Grace found it to be distinctly uncomfortable. The small red head nervously chatted with a few members of November company. She glanced nervously around, wondering where her fireteam ended up.
She had been offered a drink but avoided drinking it. The radio operator recalled the old pearl of wisdom. Never drink anything you personally haven't prepared or seen prepared. Besides, Wilkas knew of the increasing friction with between her beloved company and November.

She, of course tempted to keep herself neutral in matters. Mostly because Grace Wilkas found the idea of hitting her fellow marines to be insane, though she suspected Faust would have disagreed to such a trail of thought. Grace kept having to fend off an arm from a large well muscled corporal. Fortunately, the Russian happened to be distinctly adept in avoiding him.
Grace still struggled to find a way to excuse herself from the conversation and small group. But try as she might, they always created a new way to keep her talking with them. Grace did suspect some manner of a trap or trick.

Grace managed to escape another attempt at a hug by the drunk corporal who she suspected might be on the verge of ordering her to do so in his drunken stupor. She would fortunately be able to refuse it, harassment and all that. She might be able to use it as an excuse to escape the conversation. It sucked being caught in a corner. If she was Faust all she would need to do is yell or clench a fist and thus clear herself a way to freedom.
Unfortunately, Grace happened to be not be Faust as well as be distinctly poor at hand to hand fighting. Maybe she could pretend they were trying to put awful music on her radio. Much to the amusement of the rest of the company, playing music that she disliked on her radio irked the red head for a long period of time. She still grumbled about it.

[Davis, E.]

Davis made his way over to his fire team, finding them nursing their first drinks at the bar. Wilkas wasn't present, but he was somewhat surprised the rest of them were. He had never known a team to stick together this tight at a club, but it was still early. Who knew where the night would take them all. Davis was finding himself regretting his hands off policy for the night, but there was enough trouble to be had for him without getting a female involved tonight.

"Hey guys," he said with a grin, motioning to the "bartenders" for his prefered drink. A tumbler full of Jack on the rocks slid his way as he leaned in closer to his team so they could hear him. "There is way too much tasty in this room. If you two single boys don't take your fill of it, you're fools. Fox, I would tell you to forget the ring for the night, but that would be like telling you to lose your mind. Besides, adultery is against regs. You guys seen Wilkas? I would have expected her to be changed by now."

The entire club was building with energy and he was sure something would happen soon to start to vent that energy. People couldn't live like this for long, and he had been to enough parties to know how these things worked. Hopefully it would throttle down with some benign contests, like pushups or armwrestling. He would perhaps have to facilitate such a thing. But not just yet. For now, he was going to spend some quality time with his team and help them blow off some steam.

[Ward, J.]

Ward found the sound of pumping bass mixed with the motion of dozens of people moving to the beat of the music or meandering about to be disorienting, to say the least. He had never attended a party of white this size and fashion before; his only experience in partying lying in house parties some of his friends from high school had put together to blow off steam from heavy workloads. Those were nothing compared to this.

He turned to his left when Lance Corporal Furby called out to Corporal Davis, whom appeared from amongst a crowd of partygoers, the vast majority of them female Marines. The NCO ordered himself a drink and addressed the team as a whole, pointing out the number of apparently available women that were roaming amongst the crowds in search of a good time. Instinctively, Jon rubbed at the engagement ring on his left ring finger with his thumb, almost as if to remind himself that he had someone waiting for him back home.

Charlene was his high school sweetheart turned fiancé. He met her in his freshman year and they had hit it off pretty much from the get-go. She was funny, intelligent, and breathtakingly beautiful - far outside the bounds of what most would consider "his league." Despite that, he'd managed to impress her enough to obtain her number, and from there, the rest was history.

Ward recalled the day she officially became his fiancé like it had happened yesterday. He'd taken her out to dinner at one of the more expensive restaurants on the downtown strip in Saint Rose to eat, and then treated her to a movie -- the name of which escaped him -- before proposing to her in the parking lot of the theatre. Boot camp had been only two weeks away and he knew that she was the woman he wanted to marry since his junior year.

When he dropped down on one knee in that parking lot, Charlene instantly knew what was about to happen, and before he could even utter a word or retrieve the ring from his pocket, she had said yes. She said it so emphatically that anyone within earshot had heard it as if she had been standing next to him, and the two embraced and kissed for a long moment before leaving to head home.

Jon snapped out of his reverie when Furby snapped his finger in his face. "Jonny, did you hear what I said?" his friend asked. Ward shook his head, still smiling from the memory, and said, "no. What did you say?"

Furby grinned and shook his head with a shrug. "Nevermind. Probably best you didn't hear it. Anyway, I'm gonna go give Wilkas her drink. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll get me some."

Before Jon had even the chance to open his mouth, Avery jumped in. "I think she'd be more interested in payin' our platoon sergeant a visit after this is all over. Y'know, if your theory is right, bro."

The expression that suddenly marred the former GravBall player's face was absolutely priceless. "Oh fuck you," he exclaimed. "That's not even cool, dude!"

Both Jon and Avery burst into an almost uncontrollable fit of laughter. Furby's eyes darted between the two for a moment before he turned on his heel and left, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. Jon turned to Avery and extended his arm out to the machine gunner, fist clenched. "That was great," he said.

"Hell yeah it was," Avery replied, taking his own fist and hitting it against Ward's. "That might get him to shut up for awhile."

Ward nodded. "Yeah, maybe."

Lance Corporal Avery left a couple minutes after that, leaving Ward and Corporal Davis alone. Jon grabbed his drink from off the bartable and took a swig of the cold beverage, savoring the taste in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Budlight was his favorite beer for the simple matter that, in his opinion, it didn't taste like piss collected in a bottle. It was cold, refreshing, and could get him stumbling about within just a few drinks.

The private turned and looked at his team leader for a moment and decided to strike up a conversation. He didn't really know anyone outside of Second Platoon nor did he really care to get to know anyone else, and he was not about to mingle with the more ornery female Marines that he saw about for the simple fact that he wished to avoid temptation. Drinking and mingling with women generally was a cocktail for disaster when you were in a long distance relationship.

"I love my fiancé too much to do that anyway, Corporal," Ward said in regards to his earlier comment. "But I'm sure there are plenty of women here that you might have a shot with."

[Furby, J.]

Jayson stormed off into the crowd, taking care not to bump into anyone lest he lose the drinks clutched in his grasp. He wasn't too worried about spilling his lagger, as he could easily get another one, but the Chardonnay? That was for Wilkas, and he was not about to lose even a sip of it if he could help it. Chardonnay was expensive as is, and while he wasn't paying for any of it, he was more than certain the bar was in short supply of it due to its cost.

The Lance Corporal navigated the crowds of partygoers with expert precision, somehow managing to avoid running into anyone as they danced and bounced around like pinballs in a machine. He scanned the gaggle of bodies for signs of Wilkas, but she was nowhere to be found. Don't tell me she already ran off with somebody, he thought morosely. He looked down at the glass of Chardonnay clutched in his hand and, for a moment, contemplated setting it down somewhere. If he couldn't find Grace, then what was the purpose is lugging it around?

Up ahead a trio of females parted ways to allow a group of Marines through. Furby looked down the hole they had made and spotted Wilkas. She was standing off in a corner with a large number of males near her. Jayson recognized them instantly as belonging to November Company, Oscar's rival unit, and immediately he sighed in frustration. If November Company was giving her grief, he could only see things ending badly.

Jay breathed in deeply and exhaled, building up the courage to proceed forward. If he was lucky the November Company Marines would not take notice of him and he could sneak Wilkas back to friendly territory. If not, however, things would likely turn ugly. He started towards the group with some hesitation, gripping the drinks in his hands more tightly. The newly-minted Lance Corporal made it halfway across the expanse when he felt the firm grip of a hand on his shoulder.

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Standing behind him was Corporal Gray, the brother of PFC Gray, and the look on his face was that of concern. "I wouldn't go over there, Lance Corporal," he said firmly, as if cautioning him.

Furby turned around to face the NCO. "I'm just giving PFC Wilkas over there her drink." It was a lie, at least partially, but he hoped it would be enough to ward the man off.

Unfortunately, Corporal Gray didn't buy it.

"We both know that isn't true, Furby," he said, shaking his head. "And while I want no part of the rivalry between our units, if you go over there now while they're watching, it'll only exacerbate things. It's up to you, but if something goes down, I'm not going to step in. I've got to maintain the status quo if I'm to survive in No-Co."

Jayson thought about that for a moment and then shrugged. "Fuck it," he said. "What's the worst that can happen?"

Gray sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that," he replied sullenly. "Very well. Carry on."

Furby nodded and turned around, starting towards the endangered RTO. The expression plastered across Wilkas' face told him all that he needed to know about what was going on. She was uncomfortable and alone, surrounded by Marines typically hostile to Oscar Company's own, and he would be the one to save the day for her.

"Grace," he called when he was almost upon her. "Here's your drink." He paused for a moment and glanced at the No-Co boys for a moment. It didn't seem like he had been spotted yet. Good. He wanted to stay under the radar for as long as possible. "You wanna get out of here?"

[Wilkas, G.]

Grace was glad for the sudden and welcome arrival of the achingly familiar form of Furby. His arrival could not have been any more convenient than if she summoned him from thought. "Thank you Furby." She accepted the glass gratefully, taking a sip wincing at the taste. Wilkas nodded quickly. "Yes please." She said hoping that the pair of them would be able to escape together from this place.
Unfortunately Wilkas would not be allowed to escape so suddenly from the grasp of the members of November company.

"Woah hold up now." Came a voice, along with a distinctly meaty arm blocking her from heading towards Furby. Ah, the red head thought this might be a problem, a rather large one. "Just because you come over her you expect for her to head out with you?"
"Yeah is she like your girlfriend or something?" Said one of his companions. Suddenly those words delivered onto Wilkas a most excellent idea. One that required considerable luck and the most brilliant bluff ever.
"Actually." Grace began, muttering a silent prayer that would have served to make her mother proud. "He's my fiancée." She carefully moved the arm blocking her path, the big marine watching her with confused almost hurt eyes. She reached Furby, where she placed an arm around his waist.

"Thanks for fetching me a drink." She declared with a smile. "Sorry I moved away but they were telling me a joke." Wilkas attempted to make it seem like they had not spent the last few minutes or what felt like hours to her failing horrifically at flirting. "Act like we're a couple." She whispered to Furby in a quiet voice.
She was finally thankful for her friends dragging her to various bars and parties at college. It provided the private with plentiful opportunities to deal with these sorts of people.

"Ah okay sorry didn't know you and her were an item." One of the soldiers replied, appearing to let them both off of the hook for the moment. Grace took a short gulp of her drink. Wilkas smiled at Furby, hoping to lead him away and thus herself from what had been overly friendly members of November company.

[Furby, J.]

Furby kept his eyes on the group of November Company Marines as the glass of Chardonnay traded hands. None of them had taken notice to him yet, which if his luck held out, they never would. He turned his head and nodded to Wilkas when she thanked him for the drink. "Yes, please," the RTO said in response to his earlier question.

The RTO took a few steps forward before she was stopped by the meaty arm of one of the November Company Marines. Apparently he had taken notice of her attempt at a hasty retreat, and now, in Furby's mind, things were about to head south in a hurry. "Woah, hold up, now," the Marine said.

Furby turned his gaze on to the Marine. He stood roughly a head taller than him and sported short-cropped black hair. The Marine must have had about sixty pounds on him, and his arms were corded in muscle. If Jayson had to guess, he spent a lot of his free time in the ship's gym. His skin was a dark and swarthy, leading him to believe the man hailed from Samoan roots. All in all, this Marine looked like someone he ought not to trifle with.

Of course, were it to come down to it, Furby had taken on Marines much bigger than himself and won. He recalled the training event Davis had held a few weeks prior, just before their deployment to Phoenix III, where he bested Lance Corporal Scoggins in hand-to-hand combat. But unfortunately back then, he'd had a coach to whisper advice in his ear, whereas here he was all by his lonesome. The nearest Oscar Marine was at the other end of the club, and surrounding him were Marines from H&S, Mike, and November Companies. So, for all intents and purposes, he was alone and without backup.

"Just because you come over here you expect for her to head out with you?" the meaty Marine asked pointedly.

Another Marine stepped forward, this one more Furby's size, with the intention of backing his friend up. "Yeah, is she like your girlfriend or something?"

A twisted smile threatened to creep its way across his features. That had given him a particularly devious idea. An idea that, if executed correctly, would save him from the thrashing he knew he would receive if he did not back off and let Wilkas be.

"Actually," Wilkas started to say, almost flooring Furby as she revealed she had come up with the same solution to their problem, "he's my fiancé."

Furby's jaw threatened to go slack right there and then. It was one thing to pretend to be somebody's boyfriend when confronted with Marines that were a little too persistent, but to claim you were engaged to that person? Even if it was just a white lie to dissuade them from persisting with her, he felt that that may have been a little too much. Especially considering that, unlike Ward, he had no interest in marrying anybody for a long, long time, and preferably only after he left the Marine Corps.

"Thanks for fetching me a drink," she declared with a smile. He nodded his head slightly and watched as she moved the Marine's arm and moved to his side. He almost lost his composure when she wrapped her arm around him, but he forced himself not to. If this crazy plan of hers was to work, he needed to look completely comfortable with her. "Sorry I moved away, but they were telling me a joke."

Wilkas leaned her head in close to his shoulder and whispered, "Act like we're a couple." Furby almost came back with a smart remark, but decided against it. Right now he had to keep up appearances. "No problem, babe," he responded with a forced smile. For added effect, he turned and looked at the November Company Marines, and said, "Is there a problem?"

His tone was non-threatening, but the expression upon his face should have said enough to the November Company Marines. "She is my property, now back off." He hoped they were smart enough to get the message.

"Ah, okay," the friend of the Samoan body builder replied, "sorry. We didn't know you and her were an item."

Furby almost laughed out loud at that. Somehow he found a sick and twisted enjoyment out of it. "It's no problem, dude," he said to the both of them. "She's a damn good lookin' girl and y'all just wanted to talk to her. No harm, no foul."

The two seemed to accept that, letting them off the hook for the moment. Jayson sighed internally with relief. That could have turned ugly fast, and it seemed they would be getting off from it scott free. Not wanting to press their luck, he turned to her with his arm around her waist, and said, "Let's get out of here." Before she could respond, he took her hand in his and began to lead her through the club, away from the likes of November Company.

When they were a sufficient distance away, he released her hand and sighed. "Jesus, Grace," he huffed, "you sure like playin' things along the edge of the cliff, don't you? I thought I was about to get my ass beat."

He shook his head and chuckled, feeling some of the tension wear off. "That was quick thinking too. Nice work."

[Wilkas, G.]

The whole time Grace expected her impromptu plan to fall apart. Yet somehow whatever gods or god seemed to watch out over their most cunning of plans. Only now this presented them with a new problem. The rumour that she was now engaged to Furby, brilliant plan, mouth moves faster than brain. She let Furby take command and she let him lead her away from the unwelcome members of November Company. 
It had been a far too close a call for her. She was very grateful for his most timely arrival, he provided the most brilliant opportunity for her to escape from November. 
"Just on note I'm the property of the UNSC." She smirked nervously. 

"But you didn't." Grace could not resist pointing out. "Well its not my first rodeo sometimes you need to use a charming smile, a wink and latch onto the nearest friend." She explained or began to explain before halting mid story. "You sort of know the rest." She drank some more of the wine. It helped to calm her nerves from the events. 
"Seriously though fake fiancée or not thank you for your assistance." The red head offered him a warm grateful smile. "My hero." She declared, nodding the once as she took another sip of her wine. 

The RTO looked down at the glass. "Shall we find the others before the rumours circulate too much of us being well more than us? To imagine I entered here single and now I apparently to be married." She left, feeling amused. "Just imagine, what my mother would say." She imagined the lecture her mother might give to her if she knew of this. Fake or not, blah blah blah. 
Another sip.