The Qebui

[Tomtomrawr]

Most posts should come with a song. This song link will be in the title of the post.

The Crew's Dance

The bar of the Qebui was alive. The normal lights had been darkened, a large disco-ball dazzling the room in a variety of colours. The room pulsed as collective feet beat the deck in perfect time, shadows standing away from the dance-floor urging them on with rhythmic clapping. The people brave enough to take to the dance floor danced in pairs, most of them taking sips from glasses whenever the song gave them enough of a pause.

The dancers swung each other around, beating their feet in machine-perfect timing as they allowed themselves to be towed and slung around the dance-floor. Everybody had their arms outstretched, seeking others to catapult themselves or be catapulted toward another dancer. Occasionally dancers were launched into the shadows, to be pushed back into the tangle of bodies massing in the centre of the room.

Gradually, over the course of the evening, more people in the shadows summed up the courage to join in. The centre of the room was more of a black hole - sucking people in, occasionally spitting out the tired as excess. The song repeated again and again for hours. The dancing became erratic, tiring, until eventually Colonel Nathan Laton was one of those spat out. Two hours of constant dancing had worn him out, and he retreated back to the shadows and began clapping between his downing of scotch.

It was their last day moored to Evora. The crew's last day home for a long time. The Qebui had been scheduled for three months of deep space reconnaissance - attempts to find possible Nomad ships or hidden sanctuaries. After that, there would be no resupplying. So the crew's logic was "why not drink and eat as much as you want when those supplies can still be replaced"? Laton agreed with it; anything to get more of the good stuff down his throat when he could.

He wouldn't call himself an alcoholic. Not by a long shot. He just enjoyed the drink. He saw nothing wrong with enjoying a drink, and if he had the opportunity a glass of scotch was always at hand. This was one of those times - the day before a massive task, the launch of the Qebui and the beginning of the mission. The hangover in the morning was a price worth paying if it gave him some fun tonight.

He felt an arm grab at him from the mass of people fast approaching. A crush of people moved into him, he managed to down the rest of his drink and throw the glass in the direction of the bar he was engulfed and pulled away from the bar and back into the fray. His drunken chuckles went unheard, the violinists in the corner drowning out all noise apart from the stomping and clapping of the masses.

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[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.

Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.