(Untitled)

[the_strongone]

[OOM: Ambassador Delenn seems to have a bit of a problemCommander Ivanova is very tired. Today, she had to a) not kill anyone today, b) prevent an alien divorce/attempted murder from becoming an galatic political incident, c) explain hair care to an alien ambassador, d)escape explain human reproduction to someone newly hybrid, and e) not kill

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[toxic_perfume]

"What for?" asks a small blonde woman, eyeing Ivanova with friendly amusement.

[the_strongone]

"Superstition," she answers automatically.

Susan eyes the tiny woman for a moment before continuing, "Is there an actual person at the bar this time, or am I going to have to order from a rat again? At least I know where a Narn's been," she mutters the last.

[toxic_perfume]

Her eyebrows go up slightly. "Hasn't anyone shown you how to order from the bar itself yet?"

[the_strongone]

She makes a face. "I don't like it when I don't know where my drink comes from."

[3nanashi]

Trowa glances at her.

Hey, it's hair-trigger officer lady! (Accordingly, he chooses to make the glance a visible one.)

Who doesn't seem quite as hair-trigger today. Repeated exposure to Milliways does that.

[the_strongone]

Hey, it's that robot kid!

"Hover bang!"

Susan gives him a healthy slap on the back once she comes close.

"I don't have to shot you in the head! I always like that in a person. What do you drink? I'm buying."

[3nanashi]

Trowa opts not to move away from the back-slap. It's very hearty.

(Hover bang?)

If he's amused, 99% or so of humanity couldn't tell. He might be anyway, though. "Whiskey's fine."

He'll sip it slowly. But he has a fast metabolism, and no more shows for the night, and control issues that are more than deep-rooted enough to keep him from drinking enough to affect his judgment in the slightest.

And if there's one thing Trowa Barton is good at recognizing, it's military rituals, official and otherwise.

"I'm Trowa," he adds.

[the_strongone]

"That's nice, Hover Bang."

Ivanova sees his controls issues and matches them. With another (pretty friendly) smack on back, Susan is off after a waitrat. "Hey, you! The fuzzy one with the tail!" she barks.

She comes back triumphant with bottle of vodka and some random shooter of whiskey. "Worse than Centauri about parting with booze and money." She pours for her self and downs the whole thing in one gulp. "Damn, needed that."

Ever professional, she offers her hand. "Commander Susan Ivanova, Earthforce. XO aboard Babylon 5, deep space station. --It really is nice when I don't have to shot someone at the end of the day."

[a1enzo]

Perhaps it will please her to see someone whose hair literally cannot tangle?

Really, the stuff atop the plastic-looking boy's head looks more like a drawing of hair than the actual stuff: solid triangular flaps which are currently flopping away from his head as he hangs by his knees from a rafter.

He looks down, startled, at the woman who appears to be addressing him. "For what?"

[the_strongone]

"Gah!"

There's a green kid hanging around up on the ceiling! Commander-mode, on!

"Hey, kid! Come down here! You might get hurt." Susan makes come hither gestures and smiles as best she can, trying to say 'hey, strange green kid, I won't yell at you and come down so you don't give me a heart attack'.

[a1enzo]

"I'm not gonna get hurt," Enzo protests. "I do this all the time."

Nevertheless, he will oblige her, though it may not look like that's what he's doing. He grabs something out of thin air near his belt, makes a couple of broad stretching motions, and suddenly, there is a boogie board where no boogie board was before, hovering just below him.

The green kid then proceeds to do a handstand on the apparently unsupported board and unhook his knees from the rafter.

Real reassuring, Enzo.

[the_strongone]

Ivanova is going into palpitations.

"Get down here now, soldier!" she barks.

[ever_lovin]

Ben is not one for SciFI as a rule (his life is too much like it) but he is one for late night tv. And so when he spots one of his favorite people walk in, well, let's just say he staring a bit open mouthed.

[OOC-I promise no canon punching.]

[dovelike]

A tiny-ish blonde in jeans and a purple tie-dyed shirt enters behind Susan, just in time to hear the cursing.

"I don't think anyone's listening. You're safe."