"Hey, show me what you're fiddlin' with."

"It's my basketball, the triplets gave it to me so I can practice. That way when they come over for visitation day we can all play together. Look, they even signed it."

"Pffft, big woop. Practice isn't going to do you any good because you kinda suck."

" N-no I don't! I'm training hard! I'm getting better, really!"

"Oh yeah? Here, gimme that. Alright now stand over there. I'm gonna toss this to you, see if you can catch it."

"Of course I can catch it, I've got three arms-"

THWACK

"I knew you couldn't catch it," sighing, Striker walking over to help Crimson up. "You suck at basketball, and you're a three armed freak. You might just want to hide under your bed for visitation day, save you the embarrassment."

The Chinese jaeger rubbed his bruised nose, slapping away the Australian's hand as he pulled himself up, "I don't understand. Our skills, physique, and personalities are all derived from the drift residue our pilots left behind. The triplets are all good at basketball, so I should be, too…" he picked up the basket, turning it over in his hands as he frowned at Striker's comment. Usually he wouldn't let his roommate's snide words get to him, but this time it really stung. He just wanted to impress his older brothers so bad, to earn his way into the close bond they shared. The thought of failing that was what kept him awake at night.

"Hmph, could you speak English for once? " Striker crossed his arms and went to sit on his side of the room. Marshal Pentecost had given them the attic room, the last available space in the house considering that Coyote, Cherno, and Gipsy each had their own rooms. It was a small space, with wooden walls and a slanted ceiling that Striker banged his head on every time he climbed up into it.

It was more or less divided in half, with Striker's piles of dirty laundry and action figures on one side while Crimson's neatly arranged training manuals and posters on the other. The Crimson typhoon logo hung above the bed, complete with a framed picture of its pilots.

"I'm just saying we are how we are because of our pilots," Crimson sighed, flopping onto his bed. "As if you aren't aware of how much you act like Chuck."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" He clenched his fists, standing up, square shoulders hunched.

"It means that you're always cranky. I've done some ops on you. You seem to get especially cranky when Gipsy's around, like you're hiding something…."

'YOU SHUDDUP ABOUT THAT!" He yelled, throwing a bull dog plushy across the room. Crimson dodged it, a wide grin on his face.

Suddenly there was a rapping underneath the floorboards.

"NOISE CURFEW HAS BEEN BREACHED, DO YOU WANT ME TO COME UP THERE?" There were a lot of cons to having a room right above the Marshal's, especially when he possessed a broom long enough to bang against the ceiling.

"Sorry, sir!" Crimson called down politely, Striker only scowled as he leaned back into his bed.

"I don't get the big deal about visitation day, anyway. Why is the Marshal so frantic about getting us ready for it?"

"He wants us to be at our best when we're put on display for the first time."

'Yeah, so? It's not like we're competing against anyone."

Crimson's silence caused the aussie to sit up. "Wait….."

"You slept through that briefing too?"

'What briefing?"

'I'll take that as a yes," Crimson sighed, looking out the window into the windy night. "We ARE in a competition. The PPDC is only willing to support so many human jaegers, and sadly the Marshal could only save five of us…."

Somewhere, on the other side of the bay...

"Romeo, what is that god-awful racket coming out of your saxophone?! "

"I'm trying to match pitch with the wind, Roni'. Not my fault you can't get with the times."

"I fail to even comprehend the meaningless babble coming out of your mouth," the petite Asian woman growled and tossed her silky black hair, pulling the military issue blanket up over her ears. "Besides, I am trying to sleep."

"Sorry, Roni', I guess I could slide to a lower octave."

'Call me Roni' once more time and I will throw your saxophone out the window, " Tacit Ronin snapped as the wind rattled the thin walls of the bunk house they were rooming in. The other jaegers were sound asleep, they were smart enough not to choose a bunk next to the jazz-enthusiast of an American.

"Careful," Romeo Blue's dark tan face took on a hurt expression as he placed his scarred hands over his instrument," she has feelings too, yah know. "

"No, she…it doesn't. Why do you even spend so much time with that thing, it won't assist in any way during presentation day."

"I'm getting some crazy negative waves from you right now, why are you so concerned about presentation day? It's not like it's a competition."

"It IS a competition!"

"A jazz competition?"

"Romeo, shut up."

((-AND THAT"S THE END OF THIS CHAPTER! Sorry if its not that funny, wanted to use this chapter to incorporate a little more plot, if you can call it that. XP And maybe foreshadow some rivals the teen jaegers will have to go up against *shifty eyes* Anywho, many thanks to Beast King, Vindicator Eden, Prophet21, ShepardisaBOSS, Xahraxs, and Tel nok shock for the reviews on the last chapter. You guys are amazing. :D As always, more reviews are appreciated, any ideas, speculations, theories and suggestions are also welcome. Thank you for reading. :D