|
Post by S☆E on Jul 2, 2018 14:49:34 GMT -6
"I'm cutting you off, Ernie."
Ernest looked up from the bottom of the glass he'd just drained. Lisa's honey-brown eyes were stern as she screwed the lid shut on the bottle of whiskey he'd been working on. "Usually when you're like this you at least talk, but you're just like a rock. An old sour rock. I'm not gonna let you drown yourself." Ernest sighed an extended, exasperated sigh. "Yeah all right, Lise. I ain't ready to settle in my quarters though, so you've gotta give me somethin' to do that ain't drinkin'."
"We got other stuff here, you know. Jack's old pool table, a dartboard, some cards. Why don't you put them to work instead of your liver?"
|
|
|
Post by fen on Jul 2, 2018 15:19:41 GMT -6
"You play pool, Ernest?"
Being fashionably on time was his best attribute, or so he'd tell others. This time was no different, especially with the prospect of getting a game of pool in. He didn't pay much attention to the fact Ernest had been drinking his liver half to death tonight, focusing more on the fact that he needed to do something other than that. Cain sauntered up to the counter, dressed in the remains of a greasy overall, his semi-sweaty white work short practically stating he had been in the hangar working for most of the day.
"I could use a game or two to unwind, and it's been a while."
A quick tap on the counter and a warm smile to the bartender was all he needed.
"I'll grab whatever we have on tap. I'm not too picky tonight, and I'm guessing you've got the sticks back there?"
|
|
|
Post by S☆E on Jul 2, 2018 15:38:34 GMT -6
"Sure thing, Cain!" Lisa said brightly, infinitely relieved someone else showed up. "We've still got a keg of Zhujiang to go through, but if you've had your fill of chinese stuff... Yeah, here." She popped a bottle beneath the counter, pouring full a tall frothy glass and sliding it down the bar.
"If I remember right you're french. I got a case of Saint Sylvestre three weeks ago, special requisition. I've had it before, it's a decent french domestic." Ernest opened his mouth as if to say something but thought better of it at Lisa's hard glance his way. "Let me know what you think of it."
Feeling a bit defeated Ernest shrugged at Cain's question. "Yeah I play. Haven't in a long time though. Probably been at least eight or nine years since I last shot pool. Might as well give it a go. Not like I'm gettin' any other service around here."
"Here's the sticks, you old grouch." Lisa snipped, handing over the pool cues. Ernest screwed them together, setting one on the far side of the table as he racked up the balls.
"You break first. I'd like to see what I'm up against."
|
|
|
Post by fen on Jul 2, 2018 16:07:42 GMT -6
"Sylvestre? Haven't had that in years, you really know how to pick them." That smile certainly stayed after he caught his glass, and the pilot took a quick swig while he watched over Ernest affixing their sticks and setting the table. Once satisfied, the pilot walked over, set his mug along one of the corners, and inspected his cue stick for a moment.
He looked over at the table, then at Ernest. "Nine-ball? Man, you really want me to win, huh..."
Cain lined up his shot and broke, the pool balls scattering along the table with no pocket. He whistled, taking another sip of his drink, the pilot content with standing by his corner and watching the game unfold as it did.
"Sorry to say that I've been playing pool for a better part of my life, had to have something to do while traveling with family. How about you? Where did you learn?"
|
|
|
Post by S☆E on Jul 2, 2018 16:26:49 GMT -6
"Picked it up from my old man. He played piano at a honkey-tonk dive in town. I used to go down after school and listen to him play. A couple of the regulars taught me how to shoot pool." Ernest lined up his shots slowly, but his follow-through was off. The 3-ball missed the nine and now the 3- and 4-balls now sat near the center pocket, easy prey.
"Well. That was something." Ernest frowned. He roughly chalked his cue, trying to focus on the game instead of his thirst. "Uh, so, traveling huh? What's that about? Your folks move around a lot?"
|
|
|
Post by fen on Jul 2, 2018 17:56:22 GMT -6
Following up Ernest's shot, Cain found the 3-ball and lined up a shot. The odd racking had him double take the table to make sure the 3-ball was in fact the lowest, but with that in mind he took his shot. A carefully placed strike found the 3-ball knocking the fourth out into the center to pocket it, leaving a clear shot of he fifth near the nine. It was still a risky shot, but if he could pull it off, Ernest could score game one.
"Something like that. Business trips for them, usually, but when it wasn't that it was enjoying the countryside." He kept his drink to his mouth, alternating between taking sips and talking, the foam long since defeated. "Mom was the head engineer, dad was the businessman. Well, pilot too, but mainly businessman. He liked visiting local pubs to meet people, and my brother and I usually tagged along."
|
|
|
Post by S☆E on Jul 3, 2018 13:40:13 GMT -6
"Oh yeah, your family worked for some aerospace company." Ernest said, carefully lining up his shot. "I remember reading that in your profile. It's a shame what happened to 'em. Really raw deal for a kid that age." With a twist of his cue, Ernest knocked the cue-ball into the 5 and clipped the 9-ball towards the pocket but it stopped just shy of the hole. "Ugh, that's a disappointment. Maybe I'm rustier than I thought."
Walking around the other side of the pool table, Ernest cracked his knuckles. "I've got a brother myself. Reggie, younger. Older sister too, Tilly. Ain't seen either of 'em in at least a decade. Life pulls us in different directions, y'know?"
|
|
|
Post by fen on Jul 3, 2018 15:32:21 GMT -6
A whistle was Cain's reply as he watched the nine-ball teeter towards a hole, but come short of it. It was close now, but brute forcing it would only end badly for him, so he took his time setting up his next shot.
"Something like that. I'm fine now, though, you learn to live with it." He lined up his strike, angling the five towards the nine. It took him a few moments of contemplation, but he shot forward, his cue ball angling and hitting the five-ball at the right moment, then striking the nine-ball. Whether through calculated risk or a miracle, the nine-ball bounced off the corner and shot into the pocket parallel to where it was, sinking with a satisfying 'clunk'.
Cain brought his mug up, toasting towards Ernest. "Game one! I guess I'm a lot less rusty than I thought, eh?"
Not wanting to be rude, the pilot went to racking the next set, this time swapping out some of the later balls for a standard 1-through-9 set. With everything set up, he motioned towards Ernest to break.
"I know what you mean, though. I've got an older brother myself, but we wanted to do different things. He wanted to take care of the company, but I..." There was... A pause, as if the pilot wasn't quite sure how safe it would be to proceed. Not out of fear for Ernest's view on him, but more out of concern for himself. He may have had a good drink on him, but some things were better left unopened. "...well, I wasn't interested in doing that. Could have done what my mom did and designed planes for a living, but that doesn't seem as glamorous as this."
|
|
|
Post by S☆E on Jul 3, 2018 16:10:17 GMT -6
"Hey at least you had a choice." Ernest shot back with a hint of bitterness. "My folks shipped me out right after high school."
Ernest lined up to break, putting more force behind his shot than was necessary. The cue smacked against the formation with a loud clack, sending both the 1- and 4-ball careening into different pockets.
"I remember my old man driving me to the bus station. Said I was 'too reckless' and that basic training would 'even me out'."
He lined up another shot, smacking the 2-ball with enough moxy that it banked off the far side of the table to the other, right into the corner pocket.
"When I got out I spat on the passenger seat and slammed the door. I didn't want to go and I hated his guts for making me do it, but I didn't have any other options."
Ernest leaned far over the table, lining up his shot with the 3-ball. "I didn't talk to him for years. Ma tried to get us to patch things up but I was too stubborn. Even when the old man tried to extend the olive branch, I wasn't having any of it. I was just too-"
He took the shot, his hand slipping at the last second and sending the cue ball into the 6-ball. Ernest watched the two balls gradually roll in the direction he'd shot them, shaking his head.
"Stubbornness is a mean thing. I'm glad I've outgrown it. Well, mostly." He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "It's your shot. Why don't you tell me about some of the places you've been?" He said a little sheepishly. "Change the subject a bit."
|
|
|
Post by fen on Jul 3, 2018 20:18:17 GMT -6
The pilot's expression wavered from 'happy' to 'concerned' fairly quickly, his gaze not dropping from Ernest's face- even as he took his shots. One after the other, he didn't bother to interject until he was finished. His drink had already been emptied, the mug sitting on the table side near Cain as Ernest finished.
It was hard to not comment, but the pilot took his insistence on changing the topic and ran with it. "Mostly Europe, but we visited Japan, China, India, Morocco, Brazil, the States..." He took his shot, and the 3-ball launched forward, by chance pocketing the 7-ball as it lined up with the 9-ball. "I was too young, though, I don't really remember much of it. I think my dad just wanted to keep us together." He checked his tip, fixing it for just a bit as he lined up yet another shot, this time aiming to pocket the 9-ball.
Though the strike was clean, the lack of thought behind it caused the 3-ball to bounce back and pocket itself, leaving no room for him to pocket the nine.
"Ah, damn."
He motioned to let Ernest take his shot while he went to refill his mug. The pilot gave Lisa a brief nod in thanks before returning to the table, keeping his mug low in his hands.
"It seems we all have different stories on this ship. From everything I've read, each of us seems to have a pretty unique background in some way..." A low chuckle escaped him as he looked at the older pilot. "...but it seems like family tends to be a rough spot for everyone."
|
|
|
Post by S☆E on Jul 8, 2018 15:39:20 GMT -6
"Yep, it's a pretty common trend." Ernest nodded. "The old generation always butts head with the new, one way or another." He chalked his cue, lining up the potential shots before him. "Saw it a lot as a TI. Kids would talk about their families sometimes. Often it was rough stuff." He leaned over the table and took his shot, the 5-ball clacking against the 9 and pocketing it clean.
"That's game." he said with a shrug, as if to conclude both his train of thought and their current round. He rolled the rest of the balls into the pockets, unscrewing his pool cue. "Let's leave the score tied for now, yeah? I'm gonna turn in early."
|
|
|
Post by fen on Jul 8, 2018 17:05:25 GMT -6
Cain shot Ernest a whistle as he cleaned the table, the pilot then giving him a nod of respect. "Not bad." He was more than okay to stop there, and followed Ernest's lead by unscrewing his own cue. Cain reached out as if to take Ernest's cue for him.
"Sounds good to me, we can continue some other time. You take it easy."
|
|
|
Post by S☆E on Jul 8, 2018 18:29:38 GMT -6
"As easy as I can manage, yeah." Ernest said. He gave Lisa a nod and put his hands in his pockets as he turned to leave.
"Oh, and Cain-" he said standing in the threshold. Thanks for the distraction. he thought in the younger pilot's direction. I guess this time I needed something that didn't come in a bottle.
He stood for a half-moment, his unfinished sentence still hanging in the air.
"Keep up the good work out there."
|
|