1618/Totally Not A Date (Okay Maybe a Date) ft Riva and C6

Totally Not A Date (Okay Maybe a Date) ft Riva and C6
Date of Scene:	19 February 2015
Location:	Aces and Eights (A8)
Synopsis:	Johnny invites Riva out for some homemade food and a trip in his rocketship
Cast of Characters:	32, Riva Banari

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Courier Six (32) has posed:
    If Miss Riva was expecting something gaudy and fancy in the brand new starship he's tooling around in, she's a little bit mistaken. The 'summons' as it were comes from her phone, a text message letting her know that 'A&8 in orbit, let me know when u want to come up'. It's Johnny's contact number, and presumably dinner is ready.
    The Aces & Eights, as it turns out, has been done up from it's original interior, whatever that might have been. Johnny's pulled down the gaudy Starbound human decor and put up something resembling a slice of Old Vegas and New Vegas. The facility is roughly the size of an extra large RV, with the entrance to the ship in the back by teleporter. The red light will tingle a bit, as the devices are wont to do, and Riva will find herself in a small cargo area with boxes and crates and a large digital panel with an inventory and manifest on the side. There's also a beachball sized floating robot, carefully prodding at crates with a scanner. Beep boop.

Riva Banari has posed:
Riva thinks she has a pretty good read on Johnny, and that read is more 'comfort' than 'fancy'. One can be the other, but not always. There's a certain down-home appeal to a nice rustic environment.

Not that she has any idea what the environment will be like. You know what else she doesn't know what something is like? Teleporters. When she appears on the pad, she has a surprised look on her face with a wide-eyed expression and her hands fanned out beside her. "Meep!" She exclaims, and then looks around, before patting herself down. "Wow. So that's what it's like, huh?"

There's a pause, and she examines the cargo hold again, before studiously looking at the ball-like robot.

She hunches down next to it and, as these things must be done, reaches out and pokes it with a serious expression on her face.

Poke. Poke.

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    The floating robot beeps a bit in return, little antennae wobbling in the air as it plays... something that sounds scarily like a opening theme to a 60's sitcom. A welcoming musical sting, as it hovers up, announcing Riva's presence.
    Johnny's voice fills the Space RV with a chuckle. "Come on forward, Riva! Path should be clear!" That stipulation seems to be required as it would appear that Johnny has been in the process of moving in. A few more open crates in the opening to that cargo area, and then Riva will find herself in a cosy living space, complete with a mini kitchen, a number of couches, a dart board, and all of it in the style of a Vegas Hotel Room. Likely because he's looted the stuff out of one of his casinos. The cowboy himself is standing there, the latino man grinning as he works a pot over a stove. He's out of the armor that Riva might have usually seen if she looked up any his public information. Instead the big man's wearing a flannel shirt and blue jeans. No cowboy hat tonight, he's inside.

The smell of fried food and stew and chilis fills the cabin. "Find a seat there Riva, I'd shake hands, but I've still got hot stuff on. Want something to drink?"

Riva Banari has posed:
Riva whispers, her eyes round. "Oh my god, you're so cute..." She almost moves to give the ball-bot a big hug before Johnny breaks her trance. Riva stands quickly, narrowly avoiding hitting her head on a crate, and looks over, smiling gleefully. "Hey, Johnny!" She calls, walking between the crates to the main area proper.

The main room causes Riva to wilt her head, taking in the decor with a measured eye. Hmmmmmmmm. Slowly, she turns, looking over the couches and the kitchen, eventually settling upon Johnny himself. She arches an eyebrow at his current state, smiling to herself. "Hmm hmm! Smells nice in here. A little bit of Nevada in space, huh?" She looks around, pondering. "We are in space, right? This looks like a hilarious mishmash of sci-fi and 60s Vegas so far. I think you're working it pretty well!"

The invitation to sit down causes Riva to flop over onto a couch. "All right! So my first drink in space, huh? What do you have, Johnny?"

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    ED-E blurb burps a bit and bumps into Riva semi-affectionately at being described in such a manner, but then trundles back off to work as she heads into the rest of the ship.
    Johnny grins. "We are in space, in fact, welcome to the Aces and Eights. We're ah..." Johnny's words fall short as there's a rumble in the plating under their feet. Windows over the kitchenette slide open a bit to show the ship pulling up and out of orbit of Riva's usual digs and then... activating the FTL with a lurch of pseudo motion. "Now in route to the Mojave. Welcome to the Flotilla." The Courier snorts and washes off his hands, before fishing around inside of a minifridge that seems a little bigger on the inside than it should be. "Right, we've got... premixed here, sorry I'm not being a bartender in front of you."
    He comes out with two cans of beer. Not Mojave make, of course, appears to be some sort of craft beer of the 'hearty and robust' variety. "Here you are. Cheers." He pops the tab and takes a pull, before leaning up on a bulkhead. "If I remember right, last time you bought the drinks, but we never really got a chance to talk before people came piling in to the Tavern."

Riva Banari has posed:
"Ohmahgawd!" Riva immediately bolts upridght and scurries across the room when Johnny opens up the window. She has no problems with squishing her face against the bulkhead glass to get a better look. "Oh man, this is /amazing/. I'm really in space! One small step for Riva, one giant leap for... Everyone on the ship!" She laughs, and pulls away, spinning around in an almost-pirouette as she snaffles the beet from Johnny deftly.

She pops back over to the couch and leans back on it as she pops it open and takes a drink. "Hmm. Not bad." she replies, and then gestures, "Not a big deal, Johnny. So I know you work down in New Vegas and the place is a radioactive craphole outside it, and you help keep the peace and do odd jobs, which explains why you're rolling deep with the Syndicate." She gestures. "So how's business?"

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    The Courier snorts and shakes his head, not begrudging the young lady her excitement. "Man, yeah, I gotta admit it's always... I had a hankering for space myself, but this really is my first... real ship. I had a bunch of ratty old crap heaps, but this is... this is a new start on that front." The FLT drives continuerumbling, a comforting noise in the background as Johnny turns to start plating up.
    "Business is okay, but it could be better. I've got a rat in the Strip but I've got plenty of help flushing her out. At least we're working on that for now." A grumble from the Courier, before he sighs and looks over at Riva. "Spycraft really ain't my field, but I've got Consultants on the job." First course/appetizer is something crispy and tempura. "Alright we're gonna start off with fried fire ant. These little bastards like to crawl under my power grin and nest up and dig around. Damn things don't know when to quit, till you kill em." And, no it's not little itty bitty ants. This looks like fried lobster pieces or maybe sliced prawns. Big hunks of meat that smell spicy.
    Johnny takes a bite as he goes back to keep stirring a pot.

Riva Banari has posed:
"Hell yeah! Space, the new frontier!" She pauses, then comments in a false innocence, "Hmm, something seems off about that." She smiles deviously, and then she nods. "With all the money, civilization, and running water being in there I can see why people would be causing trouble over there. Hope everything works out."

The fried fire ants get Riva to lean forward and look at them with an odd expression. "The ants come /that big/? Wow, that's straight out of the movies, there." She picks one up and looks it over from several angles, pondering. And then she bites down and starts munching. "Hmmmmmm...." She says, speclatively as she tries to determine the flavor.

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny's smile is infectious, as he snorts at her taste test. The meat itself has some sort of chemical heat to it, not toxic, but enough to tingle the tongue and get sinuses to open up. From the looks of things, southwest flavors of varying amounts of heat might be the rule tonight.
    he courier takes a bit himself, and snorts. "It's almost as if everyone's either kissin' our butt or trying to stab it to get access to what we have." He shakes his head and sighs, starting to pull pots and pans over to the little table.
    "Okay, here's what else I got. We got some jalepeno saute'd beef, I made up some vegetarian chili with these weird meat plants that the ship had in cargo. Boneboos or something. Tastes alright. I got some whole wheat buns to help kill some of the heat over all, and I got more beer."
    He sits. "Well, and the ant. Bone appetite." He deliberately mangles the French, before spooning up some chili. "So how about you? How's things is Spooky Scary Evil Crap land?"

Riva Banari has posed:
Riva nods. "Hmm! This is nice! Interesting spice, gets you right on the tongue." She continues munching at a sedate pace, using the beer to help try to kill the burn (it doesn't, but it lets her pretend it does), and replies, "Never a dull moment for you. You probably enjoy getting these little moments to yourself, don't you." She chuckles. "Anyway, as for me, we're busy plunging into the guts of ancient Illuminati assholery. It looks like what's happening on Kingsmouth is related to a sword or something that released an ancient evil when it was removed, and it just slammed into the place on top of half of the island being more or less rigged to mystically go to hell from half-assed experiments and power games." She eyerolls slightly and gestures. "I'm starting to wish I could find a magical flamethrower or something."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    The Courier points a spoon. "Part of that's right. I mean, I ain't shy for the action, that's for damn sure. But I'd much rather get to talk stuff out than always get right to the shootin'. Usually when that happens, people get very dead one way or another, and I don't enjoy the killin'. Too few of us left in the Mojave who got half a brain left in their heads."

    He takes a bite of chili, and then murmurs. "That sounds like somethin' out of one of them pulp novels or comics, man. Ain't one for supernatural stuff myself though. Give me a nice solid puzzle i can solve with science." A shrug and he sips his beer. "Thoug h icould get you some nice flame-assisted weaponry if that's what you're lookin' for."

Riva Banari has posed:
"Way too much killing, I agree." Riva replies with a fingergun wink. "Make love, not war, know what I mean? People fight over crap way too much, when there's plenty for everyone if they just chill out and work together."

She sighs, and snags some chili herself, taking a big old bite. She knows vegetarian chili. She munches for a bit, making some mmmming noises again. After she swallows, she gestures with the spoon. "I like science. Used to think that was all there was for most of my life. Too bad I was wrong." There's a shrug. "Oh well, gotta do what you gotta do, you know? And as far as getting some cookers from you, I'll have to see what I can do. Sure, I can just pick up a flamethrower like anyone else, but if I want it to have real punch, I'm going to need to figure out how to charge it with Anima. And that's a bit more complicated, since I went into liberal arts instead of something that'd give me a career." She says the last /mostly/ jokingly.

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    The vegetarian chili tastes suspiciously like a pork or beef chili. Must be that boneboo stuff.
    Johnny's eyes crinkle a bit at the edges in a smile hidden by his can of beer. "Man, if the folks in the Old Days could have heard they they'd have tanned your hide. The War turned a lot of people the wrong way out and it's still affecting the mentality today. But yeah, make love, not war."
    He sops up some chili sauce with bread as she explains her problem, and then grumbles. "I... I can't help you there. I literally had to irradiate myself to get Souji's fancy magic powered guns to work and that's... well, it spooked them pretty good. But it was only a few rads, so wasn't too bad. Anima though, I guess that's the brand of magic you use in Templar-land."

Riva Banari has posed:
"Well, that meaty plant seems to be the real deal. This doesn't taste vegetarian at all." She sets to with gusto, letting the spice hit her square in the jaw. "Oh yeaaaaaaaaaaaaah, that's the stuff." She says, with eyes starting to tear up. She grabs a roll and bites into it, letting the bread soak up some of that delicious spice to keep her in the game.

This time, she pokes with the roll, complete with big bite out of it. Looks like she tends to use whatever is at hand when she's talking.

"The folks in the Old Days are welcome to their opinion. Even if it's wrong." She winks, grinning mischeviously. "Either way, they can come take it up with me if they have a problem with it, but I can probably ask them how the swimming it up in their end and it'll get my point across. Survival is a nasty situation. Maybe we can't fix your problems with tech, but there's nothing wrong with some good old work and healing wounds, you know? The wounds of the land, heart, body, and mind." She leans back a bit, speculatively as she pops another chunk of fire ant. "At least the beasties seem to be good eatin'."

At that, she points again. "It's okay, it's not your problem to solve. We'll figure something out eventually. Anima is... Basically the whole 'earth-power' thing. Life force, maybe? It's hard to explain. But I basically tap into it to use it to fuel my powers, and I channel it through circuits designed for it on my weapons. Otherwise I'm kind of mediocre. Most of the stuff I'm fighting doesn't really consider a shotgun a threat most of the time, you know?"

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny's eyes narrow a little bit, and he grumbles at the connections inferred by all that. "Realy, I just want to go and fix shit, and we have to go all the way rollerskatin' uphill and that's a pain in the ass. Thing is, we had one of them geomancers come out once, said he was gonna cure the land and get us all whole again. He tried yanking some of the radiation out of the dirt and... poof. Set off like a little boy right there."
    Another bit of chili, and he chews. A look to Riva. "Hard work then. S'all we can do. Even if yer a carefee liberal lady. Hell, I don't even think those sortsa politics still, mean the same thing back home, but I get the idea. Progressive thought and deed, no need to hang on to the Old World way of thinkin'."

Riva Banari has posed:
"Old world, new world, it doesn't really matter. I don't think about it so much in those terms, though I guess it makes sense for you." Riva nods. "It's all about getting people to work together, because no one can do it on their own. I can't save the world. Hell, I can barely save myself most of the time." She takes another drink of the beer, relaxing a bit.

"It might be a lot of hard work, but it's worth it, right? Better to make tomorrow better instead of just grubbing around and keeping today all to yourself... Well, those are lofty words, but hey, no one's the second coming of Jesus, you know? We're all human, and words don't put food on the table. I think you're doing a good job with what you've got, Johnny. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Just keep your eye on the goal, right? Things always get messed up when you forget where you want to be."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnyn grumps and shuffes around to sit on the couch with Riva, shufflign with his Pipboy... to make another pair of beer cans appear on the counter. He picks up his second can and grumps. "And here I am usually the one givin' that speech. Sure you ain't an old lady, Riva? Or... well. Maybe just a lot less cynical than an old cowpoke." A long pull from the beer, before he leans back.
    "My goal, young lady, is a Vegas free from the interference of assholes that want her for themselves. She's my town, my glittering speck in the wastes. And I ain't about to have assholes come and steal her or plunder her away."
    And with a sudden rumble and thump, the ship lurches itself out of FTL, and plunks itself... over the top of the Mojave, in a save orbit above the planet. There are few lights out the window on the planet below, but New Vegas is one of them, the Mojave around it a sparkling mist of small settlements around the brightness of the Strip.
    A proud look on Johnny's face.

Riva Banari has posed:
Riva laughs, chilling out as Johnny brings over the new beers. "Old? I'm just 24, I have my whole life ahead of me." She gives Johnny a playful slug in the arm at that. "Look, I always try to laugh at life. It's healthier for you, really." She kicks a leg up over her knee and drinks from the new beer. She's thoughtful for several seconds as Johnny talks about his dream for New Vegas when they come out of FTL. She blinks, and stands to walk to the window again, looking out at that shining spot far below.

"Your own little light on the planet, huh? Yeah, protecting it is important. Too many people will just want to keep that little light all for themselves." She turns away and looks to Johnny from the window. "But lights only really have a purpose when people can see them, you know? You gotta share it. I know you'll let it shine out pretty damn bright."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny gets up as well, and walks over to the window with his beer. A finger taps at the glass at the California Coast. "That over there, all those lights and not the green glow, is the New California Republic. That smudge of life spreads all the way along the old roads back east to the Mojave, you can see there."
    And then on the other side of the Vegas Strip... "And those... well, there's fires and lights down there, but I'm guessing they're mostly indoors tonight. That's where Caesar's Legion is." Johnny does in fact pronounce it KAI-zar. "Those are the other assholes. Though not nearly as onorous as the NCR. At least the federales don't enslave and murder people."
    He drinks his beer, and sighs. "But yeah, it's going to shine as hard as I can brighten it up."

Riva Banari has posed:
"Then I guess that'll be plenty, right?" She chuckles, "Well then...." She heads back to the couch and flops back onto it. "Let's finish up this delicious food, at least. I never tought I'd live to see when I'd be enjoying ants. I don't think you have anything to worry about for your cooking, Johhny,"