2011-07-11 - Beer and Barbeque

It's a beautiful hindustanian midwinter evening, the sun is shining, the wind blows stiffly, spraying hot chunks of

sand, dirt, and dried out old bits of cow stingingly into unprotected flesh. The bleached bones of local wildlife but

mostly destroyed, wrecked and unsalvageable Armored Cores and other robots bleach and glint in the intolerable heat.

The clouds are dirty brown, and it hasn't been this nice in Hindustania in a long, long, long, long long time.

Somewhere outside, after many hours were spent frustratingly discussing details of the project with the guys keeping

the Raven's from leaving the Hangars with their mechs, utility MTs were allowed outside, and began to build a pile of

old robots, this pile of old junk now sits in a big perfectly circular mess, outside of the disguised entrance of the

Raven's Nest.

Of course, it's not so well disguised, while an entire battlefleet circles the facility, camped out long term. So it

is probably of immediate notice to the A-Laws and anyone else int he area when suddenly rock and roll music begins to

loudly play, booming from amazing speakers hidden all over the perimeter. Then there is the soft whistle of grenade

hurtling in soft overhand arcs towards the pile of dead robots. Instead of exploding into shrapnel, they simply light

up, catching on left over oil and fuel in the machines as well as the black market prometheum someone poured over the

pyre. The smell is not so bad, the fire burns hot and surprisingly clean, due to the prometheum.

Garage mechanics and Raven's on bikes with little cooler carts at the front suddenly begin to pedal throughout the

A-Law groups, ringing bells and saying Beers, or Hot Dogs followed by, "Get'em Eat'em Yum Yum Yum!" And they give the

away for free to anyone who wants them.

A voice, single and solitary comes over the music for a brief moment, "Welcome A-Laws, Raven's, to the first annual,

Raven's Nest Charity Barbecue. We ask that everyone remain courteous and respectful, and try to have a good time.

This is your host, Hustler-ONE, saying, have fun guests. Have fun."

And with that, a party, was started. Hustler One himself, holding a microphone, begins to move through the various

crowd, being obnoxiously encouraging to everyone to join in and have a good time.

Briareos wasn't really here as part of the normal A-Laws crowd. He had been here to the Nest before to watch an Arena

Match. He actually wanted to take his girl Deunan here, but alas, she wasn't allowed out of Olympus...

Yet.

The seven foot, full conversion cyborg was given a rough down on the current things happening here, along with to

keep an eye out for some individuals. Such as a Nell Aulter and a Sinya Leland. Though he rather not get involved and

just enjoy his time here, but the E-SWAT was working with the A-Laws as much has he hated it.

As he walked over to get himself in, using his own badge to help move himself in, one that he applied for with the

Nest itself. The Cyborg found himself in a mist of not over chaos, but someone trying to throw a party for everyone.

That was a bit unexpected.

For now, The strange cyborg crosses his arms over his chest and just watches the activities.

Ends up coming near to where Biareos is looking stoic, arms crossed and probably leaning up against something.

Hustler 1, is wearing a bright pink T-Shirt that you can probably see from space. It says THE in tiny black letters

on the left shoulder and depicts a black silhouette of a Raven on the right breast, a large one with a small 's

afterwards. He's signing some autographs to some other Tartarus Arena fans when he notices that guy, being all strong

and silent over there.

Rebel 316 sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles pointing at a bicycle cart driver who pedals past, ringing

his bell. "Hey look ! Free Beers!" he exclaims with smirk, handing a book and pen back to an autograph seeker as the

small group rushes over there.

The big, white haired guy in the mirrored shades, Rebel 316, walks right over to Briareo and smiles. "Are you not

having a good time? This is a pretty quiet party huh." By the time he's finished speaking he's full on grinning like

a loon, locking eye contact with the E-SWAT member.

The Cyborg glances down as Rebel walks up to him. Those four optics flicker for a moment, pulling up rapid record

matches to see just who this was and well, if he was on the 'keep an eye on' list. So far, that was a negative. "Oh,

I am just checking things out. Been here before, you guys have an awesome Arena."

The Cyborg lowers down his arms, before he places out his hand for a shake, "The name is Briareos. Member of E Swat

and-- A laws. Though maybe when this all washes over, I can bring my girl here one day and see what your mechs are

like to steel fists." He says with a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

Though would he really fight it a mech on food or not is up to really how he feels.

Rebel 316 grins, and snaps his fingers, without breaking eye contact. A beer vendor is quick to interdict! With a

rustle of ice suddenly two beers are twisted open in Rebel's hands before he plucks out a third and tosses it to

Briareo and waves the kid on. The bottle is not a twist off, and it's not opened. Rebel waits to see if he tries to

twist it off before saying anything about it apparently as he opens his mouth and talks about something else.

"Actually the Arena's my baby. Really it's just me. I'm pretty proud of it, gives everybody something to do, keeps

the party rockin'..." He trails off, his tone becoming a touch more somber. "Keeps everyone's edge keen, y'know?"

He wraps his fingers into the necks of both bottles, flipping his free hand around behind his back and out the

otherside deftly launching a bottle opener keychain into the cyborg's grasp, assuming he's paying attention. The key

chain says, HUSTLER-ONE subtexted first by ARENA MASTER and then FOUNDER, the contact information in the corner just

says Tartarus. "And I certainly like it, everyone else sure seems to!"

Briareos easily caught the bottle. Though he doesn't try anything with it yet. Unknown in back history, he was once a

merc himself; but it was past kept dark.

"Oh? I'll make sure to talk with you if I ever get a chance to fight in it then." Then as the bottle opener comes,

the cyborg easily catches it, before he looks it over. Then with simple ease opens his own bottle, before tossing it

back. For such a big guy, he was pretty quick on the reflexes.

Oddly all the metal on him, almost looked and somewhat acted like skin itself.

"Any rules in that Arena of yours?" Briareos asks canting his head to the side as the antennas stand up slightly

straighter on his head, "Or is it just a good ol' free-for-all?"

"Don't die in the arena." Comes a voice from nearby, "That's the only rule that makes sense." Lo and behold, it's a

man in his late twenties or early thirties. Pretty rugged looking, but with some sort of elegance about him.

Everything about him says 'veteran'. Jack-O.

Upon his entrance, he is immediatly jumped by security and searched for weapons, of which he has none. "I'm just here

on business." He says as he looks around to those in the vicinity, (nodding his head to Leos if he is present).

Rebel 316 smirks and immediately knocks a bottle back, upending it and tilting his head back, throat opens and the

bottle foams up inside the bottle from the vacuum effect. He splashes some of the white froth onto the back of his

hand and then snorts it off, squinting his eyes for a moment, flicking the rest to the ground with a firm drop of his

forearm.

"Well you could talk to me if you wanted an opportunity to fight in it. Probably be faster."

Hustler smirks and lights up a cigarette, looks around at the 'party' guys are taking food and beers, anyway, it's

not much of a BBQ though, he looks a bit tired. "You probably shoul-" He turns to scowl at Jack-O. "Don't let anybody

see you here Jack-O. You wouldn't wanna get lynched." He says in his best monotone serious face. biting his tongue to

not smile.

He finally has to turn his head and spit blood. Giggling like a schoolgirl. A Manly One.

Briareos was about to drink that bottle; though how is the question; till another voice spoke up. He glanced over in

that direction, his optics once more flickered, again running a face to name search. "Yo." He says calmly. "I think

that is the name of the game in no matter what you do in this war. Do it good. Do it right. Don't get killed." He

then chuckles. "Also optional is making it look stylish if you got the skills to do it."

Briareos would ask why Rebel spat out blood, but in these places, there is probably all types of medical conditions

and slug fests. "I'll make note of that."

Rebel 316 points to the keychain he also tossed to Briareos. "See that Keychain, you can use that to find me if you

want to fight somebody, or me. And it opens bottles. " He claps his hands and punches the air before draining another

bottle and dropping both into a passing recycling cart bicycle driver's plastic bucket full of empties. "Boosh!"

Jack-O looked towards Rebel at the 'warning' and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not a criminal, am I?" He pauses as he

puts his jacket back on, done being searched. "And I thought you were a cat. A robotic cat from outer space." He

pauses for a moment and then glances to a security guard. "Where can I find my old techie?"

The guard shrugs. "Probably driving a cart man. Hustler said he wanted everybody to keep working but since we weren't

getting any real work done we may as well do something practical." In response to Jack-O's query.

Rebel 316 smirks and shrugs. "No one ever said you were Jack-O. In fact, I don't think the Raven's have just hung out

and relaxed together ina while. You especially." He intones with a little etra gravity. He continues smiling. "So

what do you say tall dark and mostly machine? You gonna come down and fight later?"

Briareos gives a nod to Rebel, before at last taking a sip from the bottle. It was a talent to drink this when all

you had for a mouth was a slit where then mouth should be. Sure he didn't have the most kind looking face, but it had

its useful functions.

Briareos glances over back to Rebel, "Maybe when the A-Laws are done with their investigation and we are allowed to

have mechs inside here." He chuckles. "Though my luck, they figure out how strong I am, they will probably oust me

because of my ability to slam a mech back with my own bare fist." The cyborg then clenches is open hand as example,

before he starts to walk away from the two.

"Though hope you don't mind, just going to roam. Check in with a few of the others here." Briareos says calmly

raising up a hand and moving over to some A-laws grunts. Mostly talking to them for a moment regarding any signs of

who and what they are supposed to be looking for.

After all, encase the 'boss' of this whole thing came in, he didn't want to get crap, because that crap would lead to

Athena...

..Athena was not a woman to be messed with.

Jack-O nodded his head to the security guy and then looked towards Rebel. "Oh really?" He asks, feigning curiousity.

"I haven't heard anything about that." He says with a smile, "As for me, well, you know. The usual."

He then looked towards Briareos and nodded his head slowly to him, in greeting. "You new here or A-LAWS?"

Briareos glances over his shoulder of his leather jacket as he speaks to Jack-O, "A laws, but.. yeah." He didn't

finish that, instead he just got motioned by a group to come over else where with them. They needed his more cyborg

brain to do some hard code work.

Such a curse to be ninety-nine percent machine, but at the least the important things were still there.

Rebel 316 chuckles, "But what" Have another beer! Hey Charles Come here, bring two rounds on me!" he whistles and a

man pedals over opens and provides the three men each with two beers.

Jack-O raises a hand, "That's fine. I was on my way out." He tells Rebel and then nods to Briareos as he heads for

the exit. "See ya later, Hustler." Was all Jack-O said as he stepped through the disguised personel exit and went on

his way.

Rebel 316 smiles and shoots a finger gun at Jack-O as he leaves. "Bang Bang. Asshole." He goads quietly enough that

no one will hear him and leaves his companion the Metal Man behind for a while to go sign more autographs and make

nice nice with the A-Laws rank and file. And maybe find a hot dog, he's hungry.

Briareos returns back around, with the beer bottle gone, he also noticed that one of the Ravens had vanished and the

other was signing autographs like some rockstar. These mercs were a strange group, very different from the ones he

hung around with back in the day.

The Cyborg then starts to walk about the area, starting to get a bit more interested in things. Glancing over people,

chatting with a few, and general trying to see if he can silently locate what the other A-Laws had been looking for.

The biggest question he would sometimes imply was the attack, trying to get a feel for how the mercs here felt on

that.

Meanwhile, the Valstork Family is running something along the lines of an open-air cafe this evening, although it's taken them some work - partly involved in getting together everything they needed, but Horis found somebody who could let them borrow or rent a portable grill, for burgers or bacon, and they already had refrigerated containers they could use for keeping stuff chilled or frozen. The other problem would have been getting tables and chairs for people to sit and eat if they wanted to sit.

Kazuma is alternating between waiting tables and helping to prepare food; as he spots the bunny-eared cyborg, though, he finishes the sandwich he was making, dumps some chips on the side, and takes it over to a table where some random Raven was waiting for his order. And then he keeps on going, heading for Briareos ... although he has no idea whether the cyborg will actually recognize him or not.

Briareos got nothing from his questions and friendly chatter. These guys-- were pretty loyal to something that was a machine.

... Like he had much room to talk.

The 'bunny eared' Cyborg glances over as the youth approaches him. Those green optical lens just stare at him, before one antenna tilts to the side slightly, before he places up a hand, "Hey." By direction Bri could easily determine the kid was heading right for him.

Though hopefully not into him or that just be awkward.

Rebel 316 strolls back, the crowd he'd been rockstarring it up with dispersed, maybe while you blinked for just a second. Hustler One smiles and nods to Kazuma, and to Briareos again. "Who's a machine? " He asks with a smile, rhetorically not expecting a response then sniffs the air and looks interestedly at Kazuma, "You smell tasty. What is that? Bee Ell Tee? Clubhouse? I spent three years in a trench with only a toaster oven during the Sandwich wars, and I tell you, you just gave me the best post traumatic stress flashback, ever." He bobs his head, winks and whisks his left hand foreward.

Two beers miraculously clink together in his grasp as he does so, apparating suddenly to be handed to the other two men.

No, Kazuma's not trying to go through Briareos, or collide with him - and he comes to a stop as he gets close enough to talk to Briareos and Rebel without raising his voice. "Club sandwich, yeah - sorry, I was making one for a customer when I saw your buddy here and needed to come and say hi."

That said, he makes sure his hands at least *look* clean (they do) before offering a handshake to the cyborg. "Hey. We've crossed paths before."

"No eating friendlies, Hustler," Boyle Fortner says, just before shutting himself up via a mouthful of delicious hot dog piled with... well, /stuff/ for toppings. It looks like the works. Maybe Martians enjoy their variety in food?

The fact that he kind of just /appeared/ is only surprising if you are unaware of his spec-ops background. But, to be fair, most people are.

Briareos actually turns down another beer, though as Kazuma at last speaks, both of those antennas go straight up before he chuckles softly, "Hey there! I remember you, you're the one I fought on the deck of that ship right? That is a pretty heavy duty mech you got." He handshakes back with Kazuma. The shake was firm, but he kept it easy to not break the poor kids arm.

"You had me pretty good, though I do love a good ol' rough down fight." Briareos chuckles. "Hard to get those when you're a full conversion cyborg and sparing to rough means someone gets hurt." The cyborg then looks over to Rebel, "Post traumatic stress ever-- by food? Man, that must have been giant burger that got shoved down your throat then." He said wistfully.

Briareos then crosses his arms over his chest, before he takes notice of the sudden next raven arrival. Oh my-- he was being surrounded by Trailers! What ever will he do?

Pffff..

Rebel 316 is taken aback, in force by Fortner's accusation. "Hah, Friendlies don't even taste good. Not even with sauerkraut and corn relish. KEtchup. " He trails off staring at the weiner in his hand. Finally he caves in and chows down. Talking around mouthfuls, " Maahn, Ah'm so glad we're nah gon' run out of beer."

He nods and waves a hand to Boyle and to everyone else before he has to put his head down to choke down his food and wash it away with some suds.

Kazuma raises his eyebrows, grinning sheepishly. "Eheh .. you identified me even in there, eh? Yeah, I try to take good care of 'em - I don't think that was my usual machine I was using, though. Glad you're not taking it personally, in any case ... back then I made a point of not having anything personal against the A-LAWS."

Now? Well, there's a reason why he doesn't say.

"Back 'then' huh? Guess we are getting under you guys skin that bad.." Briareos hrms softly. That-- would explain why its hard to get the 'work' done he was hoping to do just easily mingling around with these guys. Briareos does stare at Rebel who is chowing down before he has a dead-pan sound in his voice, "No wonder you had a trauma event in your life around food..."

The Cyborg looks back to Kazuma, "By the way, the name is Briareos.. and before you ask, yes I am human under all this-- somewhere." He says looking over himself. Even his boots look pretty heavy duty. He does however at last stick his hands into his jean pockets. "Don't ask how much, cause every time someone does, I have to try to explain." He chuckles. "The last guy, I think, had a very hard time figuring it out." He then shrugs.

Briareos glances over Boyle for a moment, though he doesn't say anything directly to him. "Well, outside of line chokes and maybe a few slug fights, hopefully everyone has been playing fair around here."

"Amen to that," Boyle says, grabbing a beer and saluting it to Hustler before he cracks it open and has a drink. He's apparently completely willing to get down here and talk to the other Ravens, even if his sister is perhaps a little more... well, more of a tightass sometimes.

"Fair and clogged to Hell an' back," Boyle says, snorting. "Some of the A-LAWS guys are at least polite, but most of 'em are uppity and annoying. Self-righteous bastards," he mutters. A glance at Briareos, and an aside of, "No offense. Just been dealing with bureaucrats all day, you know?"

"None Taken." Briareos quips back quickly to Boyle.

Kazuma grins. "Wasn't sure, but thank you for offering the info ... anyway. You know my family's doing a mobile deli of sorts here - can I get anything for any of you, maybe?" Family business being, well, business.

Rebel 316 got quiet after a while, drinking beers, guys keep coming by and bringing freshies, he got a hot dog at one point too. He's enjoying himself, hoping the A-Laws are as well. He crosses his fingers, looking for any Military Brass, cuz this is engineered to cheese them right off, fraternizing with the enemy.

He bobs his head to Boyle cracks another beer and raises it towards Boyle to clink bottles, offering it around the circle, "Here's to the hole that never heals the more you rub it the better it feels. I mean. Here's to Me, and the A-LAWS officers, for letting us have such a swinging time!" He grins, ear to ear.

Briareos chuckles. "Well, I've been asked before. People see this mug and all." He taps the side of his head, which does clang a bit. "As for food-- uh Maybe? What kinda things you got?"

He then cants his head a bit before he snaps his fingers, "Better yet, I'll go take a look myself." He then easily slinks by, well, easy as someone who is seven foot can, and makes his way to where the food is. He then pauses before he looks over his shoulder, "Though-- you the only guy vending?"

Then another beat pause before he points at Boyle slightly, "..and who are you? May as well ask has I already got the calling card of Hustler and the kid there. I think I got your name anyhow." He adds at the end looking at Kazuma. Oi, so much to keep up with.

Briareos isn't going to remake to that, cause he isn't an officer.

A rather officious but no nonsense figure in a black uniform makes his appearance near the gathering, pausing for only a minute to press his ear and seemingly comment almost subvocally to someone. Moments later, a pair of small children appear, staring about and then, the voluminously uniformed figure of Dewey Novak makes his own appearance. He's smiling.

Boyle cheerfully clinks bottles with the infamous Rebel and takes another drink. Martian or not, he has the fortitude from many a night hanging out with the Martian Ravens to do this sort of thing for a while. Besides, first bottle after a day of dealing with bureaucrats looking for some kind of ordinance violation or another? He's going to /savor/ this. Or chug it. Either or. "Hear, hear!"

He looks to Briareos again, extending a hand. "Boyle Fortner, Frighteners. I'm one of the de facto guys in charge right now."

Annnd then Dewey has to show up and /ruin everything/. Boyle doesn't acknowledge his presence until /after/ he makes acquaintances with the cyborg, and even then, just turns to look his way as he approaches. Before he's in immediate sight, he lifts the bottle and down the rest of it, and quick, apparently deciding to err on the side of liquor for this encounter.

"Mostly deli sandwiches," Kazuma answers. "Clubs, BLTs, grilled cheese with or without meat ..." He twitches ever so slightly at mention of Frightners, but gives Boyle a polite and formal nod.

... and did things just get bossy around here, or is it his imagination? Nope, there's a Uniform. A Very Capitalized Uniform.

A Uniform So Capitalized That It Forcibly Capitalizes Sentences About It.

Kazuma grimaces. "We're over this way," he says to Briareos, and heads back over to resume working. "Sorry I can't talk more right now, but we're doin' steady business."

Dewey and his entourage make their way over towards Bri, an easy smile on the Colonel's face, which is mirrored in the wan smiles of his Ageha and countered by the totally business and almost angry visage of the larger black uniformed man... "Briareous. I see we're making friends with the locals. I am glad."

Brireous huhs softly as Boyle explains who he is and gives a nod, however the atmosphere changes, mood drops, and Briareos finds himself watching Kazuma walk away even with the change in his voice. The Cyborg already can see Dewey from behind him moving in. There was a soft inhale before a sigh.

So much for working with the locals on a more friendly term. "..I may have to skip on that meal.." he says lightly as Kazuma passes.

With a snap of his heel in a near military fashion, Briareos turns about-face to Dewey before giving him a quick, brisk proper salute. "Cornal Sir." Briareos says crisply before his hands fall by his side, keeping at attention. "I am indeed, Sir. There is no sign of the target here or any indication that he has been here at all, Sir."

So much for fun and games...

"From all reports and conversations with the locals, Sir, the Rogue AI has either a great deal of loyalty here or we are indeed searching in the wrong location, Sir." Brief pause, "Even with the attack yesterday by the AI, Sir, They still continue with the same answer."

And so much for now making any friends here.. thanks-- DEWEY.

"Any further orders, Sir?"

Rebel 316 smiles right at Dewey, makes eye contact, and then turns to face Kazuma, seemingly ignoring the officious man in his entirety. He tilts his head at a Horation angle and asks a question.

"You're selling those delicious sandwiches? You're going to have to tell me where your stall is, cuz I haven't had a good Clubhouse since I was on Rye-IV near the Tomato Dwarf Star system. " He pauses and holds up his hand to his mouth as if to privately make an aside, though everyone can hear him. "Back when I was young and went into space like a foolish young whippersnapper.

He turns, back to Dewey then as he miraculously reaches into a passing beercart's ice bucket and grabs three beer, one is passed to Boyle, the next to Dewey, and then he opens one for himself, and adds to the man on the bike, "Give some to my other friends here too, thanks. " He tips the guy a 5 spot, and points at Dewey's beer. "You. You look. Like you could use on of these."

Dewey Novak returns Bri's salute, and then regards the beer for a moment... The man in the black uniform begins to examine it as Dewey speaks to Bri, "I am pleased to see you are so direct about our duties, but after the incident yesterday I am glad to see someone attempting to extend the olive branch..."

Kazuma Ardygun is easy to follow - it's not like the Ardyguns set up a closed tent or anything. "How do you like your clubs?" he asks Rebel, slowing down and turning to look back at the Raven. "Ham, turkey, smoked mole-pig? Bacon or no? How much mayo?"

Briareos tilts his head only slightly. His optics flicker for a moment. "Only making sure to help keep the peace between us and the Trailers, Sir. With your permission, Sir, may I be dismissed, Sir?"

Mility might hoooo!

That and he really didn't want to see something break out, or a fight-- he hate for a fight to break out. Only because he have to probably help end it and that means someone would get hurt. Not the best way to end things around here.

And he get to Kazuma on that sandwich!

Rebel 316 frowns at Dewey and points at the beer again. "If you wanted the Olive Garden, for fine synthesized white trash italian stereotyped eating, I think they have a bunch of those chains in China, over there." He points off towards Russia or something he doesn't care.

He sips his beer, slowly, "That. My good friend, is a delicious. Beer. And if you don't mind my asking, what are you guys doing here and." He chuckles, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

He moves along slowly bringing the crew with him, until he's getting a sandwich. "I Like ham turkey and bacon, cheese, charge me extra for that. extra lettuce and tomato too." He slides far more than it's going to cost across the table.

Dewey Novak smiles at Rebel, "I do not drink on duty, unfortunately. I will have it conveyed back to the ship to be enjoyed there." He does peer around, "I am glad to see that life continues as normal even in these stressful times."

Rebel 316 puts his palms out to Dewey and renews his gleaming white toothy smile. "Please be my guest, take a case if you like. Definitely have a hot dog. They're pretty good. " He gesticulates at the various Nest workers he's commandeered to feeding the A-Laws and the Ravens. "Me too. Me too. How's everything going? I heard they were going to send you reinforcements to complete the annexation last week? What's going on? Blizzards in Siberia holding them up?" He pats his pants, finds his cigarettes and goes through the motions of pulling one out and lighting it.

"We got hot dogs too," Kazuma mentions as he gets to work on Rebel's sandwich order.

Olive branch. Right.

Boyle takes the brew with a quick nod to Rebel. He looks the children and then the... Dewey up and down, giving the man a nod. "Colonel Novak, I presume," he says, using his Official Voice, which is a lot like his normal voice but stuffier. "Boyle Fortner, Frighteners." He extends a hand, presuming that the Colonel doesn't do things like turn that down. "We pride ourselves on normalcy in even the most troubling situations." Big smile.

The cyborg gets a break and he takes it when he can. Without even a second glance, Briareos is on the move to get food, get away from Dewey and any sudden angry Ravens of the guys sudden appearance.

Oh, Bri will /protect/ the guy, but only if he /has/ too. For now, food calls to him and he rather not fight on an empty stomach.

He gets up to Kazuma's stand and orders himself two ham and cheese grilled sandwiches and then a Philly cheese-steak sandwich. Oh and two bags of chips.

Dewey Novak takes Boyle's hands, and sadly for those who would like to envision otherwise, its a warm and firm handshake... "I am glad to meet you in person." He does look at Rebel, "Annexation? Hardly. The Nest is an independant trading area, and this situation is quite troublesome for me as it is for you, assure me." He smiles, "People have thrown cans at my head recently..." He does look after Bri, but then back to Boyle, "Boyle, I trust the Frightners want this rogue AI captured as much as we do..." The children seem almost rapt with Dewey's every word, but also, they stare about...their eyes strangely drawn to the best areas for someone dangerous to hide.

For those of a canny and well trained mindset, they seem to be feeling the place out, like security officers, or assassins...

Rebel 316 grins and collects his sandwich from Kazuma, he holds it in two hands, it's a big fat sandwich, with all that extra stuff. He takes a big bite, using his mammoth strength to compress the back end and keep it from shooting all out over Colonel Novak, in fact, it keeps it all inside very neatly, only a tiny dribble of mayo comes out of a corner.

"Oh hey nice to meet you to, Boyle, I think I've met your... uh? Sister?" He shrugs and just nods to Fortner, his hands being somewhat messy. Snickering at Novaks response. "Well I was just teasing, because well, this is the first chance I've spoken to someone about it where it was stuffy and informationless. " He smirks and lobs a wink at Brirareo when he catches the Cyborg's lens. "You know. I actually have 20 bucks on a bet with the other Founders, that I am actually a rogue AI, and that R, is in fact a man from Tacoma. Honestly, we haven't gotten to declaring a winner yet."

Briareos waited for his food, at which he would chow down on! Do not ask how this cyborg does it, because he is like a Ninja.

You see it, then suddenly 'bite' of food gone and you can't explain how.

As for Dewey, it would seem the Coronal may have gotten distracted away from Boyle and Rebel by virtue of A-laws, his kids, or something.

At least this evening was pretty uneventful and no one told Bri he had to go home cause he could be used as a walking weapon of destruction!

Boyle matches grips with Dewey precisely. No weakness, no overt hostility, just neutrality from that one. "Of course we do. Disorder units on Mars run rampant all the time--we often get called in to help clean up the mess when they approach civilian settlements. Fighting artificial intelligences are our bread and butter." He pauses a moment. "On Mars. We don't have the autonomy to operate like that here, so I'm just trying to keep the peace like the Federation wants."

Boyle glances at Hustler and shoots him a quick grin and a small nod. Yep; sister. He probably can imagine /that/ particular encounter, and doubts it was a good one.

Rebel 316 leans against the table, going crosseyed as he looks his sandwich over. He's seriously working at it, taking methodical gouges at it with his teeth. He smirks over at Boyle, "What do you got on Mars? They got strippers and beers right? Anything cool I haven't heard of." He shifts his weight and gets comfortable.

"Sea that fizzes like soda pop," Boyle replies easily, glancing back at Hustler. "Great resort, good swimming, barely-clothed beach bunnies almost year round. And the terrorists the corps'll pay you to take out--" He just shakes his head, grinning. "Almost makes it too easy, sometimes. It's the wild frontier, man. Gotta love it."

Rebel 316 looks a little flabberghasted by that. He grabs a handful of napkins from Kazuma's stand, messes them up into a big sloppy pile with his hands and then puts his sandwich down on it, firmly. He looks Boyle in the eye a second time, and swallows.

He smiles, ever so slightly and washes it down with a healthy swallow of beer. "Is it all salty? Or it's like you can go swimming in perrier? I like the lime flavour personally, but I guess that'd just be weird, huh?" He picks his sandwich back up, "Lots of terrorists and bounty hunting? You don't say. Sounds like my kinda town." He raises his bottle and tilts it towards Boyle with an even motion.

Boyle grins wide. "Nah. Just like soda, that's all. Pretty sure it's not, but you don't really go swimming in it to get a taste, you know?" He tips his beer back, downing more of the stuff. "Yeah, plenty of it. BAHRAM always needs to be shot up some, and you get the Mars Zeon guys causing a ruckus, and then the Martian Ravens get all kinds of work all of a sudden. Dangerous stuff, but someone like you--" He shrugs, still grinning.

"Well, lets just say they wouldn't know what hit 'em. It'd be almost too easy."

Rebel 316 thinks about this, finishing off his sandwich with too big bites, excusing himself with a raised index finger as he swallows it. "So what do these BAHRAN guys do? They just hate the gubbmint? They like explosions a lot? Bunch of homeless dregs with guns? Trying to take some squats?" He whistles another beer cart over and grabs one for himself and for Boyle tossing it over underhanded and aiming it into his grasp.