2236-12-07 - Killjoy

Miko meets Eli, they're going to be BFFs.

Date: 2236-12-07

Location: Lounge - Medical - Deck 9

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 909

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The lights are off in the lounge except for a lamp that glows near the kitchen-ish area. There's a doctor-shaped lump on the couch and he's got one arm draped across his eyes. Eli's uniform jacket is draped off the back of a chair.

The problem with pesky light switches is that they are always so tempting to throw on when one enters a darkened room. A man enters the room in full stride, elbowing the light into the on position as he moves in a little triple step dance move that ends with him spinning and grabbing his crotch with his free hand as the finale. A metal hexagonal shaped clipboard is in his other hand, some form or another destined to be filled out in triplicate. Surely the room is empty with the light off like that, right? So the Sergeant lets his freak flag fly.

Eli awakens quietly. He lifts his arm off his face just in time to see the crotch grab. He grunts, then, "I'm not sure I can administer the proper medication that'd help with that particular lack of rhythm problem. But I'll give it a shot if you're willing to be a guinea pig." All of this is said in a half-awake murmur.

"Oh shit..I..geez!" Eli is lucky he didn't get a clipboard launched at him for his trouble, but as it is the Medic only stumbles back a step or two and bumps a fist against his chest as if restarting his heart after being startled. "Sorry..sir..? Didn't see you there." The apology seems half-hearted and sloppily delivered, mainly because he's busy scooting over someone's lunch to make room for himself at the table. "You should consider getting your senses checked though. My rhythm is on /point/. Do you know where they keep the surgical tubing?"

Eli points half-heartedly to the rank pips on the jacket slung over the chair. Then he scrubs his face and sits up, still quite bleary-eyed. He's got a great case of bed-head too. "Now why would you need surgical tubing? You're not a nurse or a doctor." He knows those faces by now.

There is a low whistle given at the pips, "A Lieu. Teaches me to interrupt someone's nap." Miko is stepping towards the couch as he wipes his hand on the seat of his pants and offers it over, "Sergeant Mikolas Kovac. Medic with the CMC, just come aboard. Need a few things to round out my kit, that's all. And a sixteen inch diameter funnel. Don't suppose you've got any of those laying around, yeah?"

"Doctor Eli Cadmus," says the bleary-eyed man. He swings his legs around and reluctantly attains an upright position. "I'm a surgeon, not a medical quartermaster. And I also know that piping and funnels are used both for making beer bongs and also prime ingredients for creating a still. But I'm sure your uses are purely medical, as you are a professional and new to this ship."

"Pfft." Beer bongs. Stills. There is an eye roll from the Medic, "It's just for, you know...did I say funnel? I meant a sixteen inch.." Uh. Fingernails scratch at the collar of his double set of tanks, "You're kind of furry for a doctor, aren't you? Surgeon. Person. Not a quartermaster. But I've got forms! Maybe you could introduce me to some of those nurses, yeah? Wink wink nudge nudge and all that."
Eli is very, very good at unimpressed looks. He levels one of those on Mikolas. Then he just shakes his head. "Juuuust keep on digging, Sergeant. Shovel away." He tosses up a hand, chuckles roughly, then shuffles over to see if the coffee is even remotely drinkable.

"At least I didn't ask you for any food grade plastic barrels?" There is a beaming smile offered towards Eli before Miko plops into a chair and grabs up his forms again, hovering a pen over the page. "But. You know. If you know of any laying around, I know a guy who'd make it worth your while. Just saying. Don't they make you shave? How is that within Regs? Lucky bastard."

"Everyone on this boat seems to have a strange fixation with my personal grooming habits," says Eli as he sets a mug down a bit hard. He fills it with coffee and digs around for sugar. When he finds none, he sips it as is. He turns, "Look, I don't really give a frak about any kind of wheeling and dealing you might want to set up. Just don't do it on duty, don't be obvious about it, and don't do it where I can see it." He picks up a handful of nuts that may or may not be stale. "Or I'll have to write you up. I'm a killjoy like that."

"Fixation? Nah, just jealousy." Miko's fingernails lift to scratch into his own scruff which is only the shadow from having shaved this morning. "To each their own, Sir. I won't rain on your parade by making you deal with excess paperwork, that wouldn't be neighborly of me." He makes a hand sign that isn't marine in origin but more of the Picon standard 'hang ten' waggle of pinky and thumb extended.

"Oh, yeah. That's another don't. Don't..." and Eli points...pointedly, "...endanger any lives or compromise any supplies. I catch you pulling that and I'll come down on you so hard, your second cousin once removed will feel the fallout." Coffee siiiip.

"Pretty sure they're dead." Mikolas slowly turns to look over at Eli as he delivers that statement. "What with the war and all, I hear that's happening a lot." His carefree mood is clouded for a moment like bad weather darkening his eyes. It's gone just as quickly though, as a smile goes wide again. "One day I'll take that same fancy oath, but that doesn't mean I don't already live by it. Do you like chocolate? You look like a man that needs some chocolate."

That manages to make Eli wince a little, but he's not a man who lets those kinds of emotions linger on his face. Instead, he sips the (surprisingly OK) coffee. "No, no, I'm good. No chocolate needed."

"Well. If you ever do. To impress one of those nurses or something." Mikolas goes back to his paperwork, checking off a box here or there and scribbling in his requisites. His elbow digs into the table and his forehead is rested on the heel of his hand, grinding there for a second. "What's the CMO's name?"

"I don't tend to want to impress the people under my command," says Eli pointedly. "Collins is the CMO. Sort of an important detail to get before you take a shift in Sickbay, just FYI."

"Noted!" Miko lofts his pen as if punctuating the point about frat with an exclamation. "I've been on the boat less than twenty four hours, and there was a mix up when I reported for duty. I'm lucky I was given a map." The medic mutters underneath his breath 'Collins'. "Say, you don't know how to forge his or her signature, do you?" But before Eli can answer, the Sergeant pipes up, "Kidding! Kidding!"

"Look..." Eli is almost visibly holding back the word 'kid', but that wouldn't be appropriate to call a fellow officer. "...I'm not going to get into my life story because I'm not that open a guy. But fair warning, I know the tricks and I know what to look for. So keeping this stuff out of my line of vision is going to require a little effort on your part."

"On the contrary." Miko mutters while he continues filling out his forms, flipping between the three copies to make sure that the carbon is working. "You're pretty open. For example I've learned you're a stickler for the rules, but yet you must be incredibly good at your job to get overlooked when it comes to grooming regs which is one you choose to ignore. You're likely /not/ sleeping with any your inferiors aaaaand..." He draws out the last word because he's multi-tasking, his tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth while he concentrates on writing. "You're not into guys because you haven't looked at my ass once, and it's pretty stellar." A hazel-colored glance, "Sir, no offense? Relax. This isn't my first rodeo."

"Maybe because I'm a stickler for the rules and that would be inappropriate," says Eli a bit obtusely. "Besides, the marines are a fit bunch. There's a lot of fine backsides on this ship." He addresses this all to the ceiling as he takes another long sip from his coffee. "Do I get a go at being the great detective now? Is this the game we're playing?" A beat, "In point of fact, I am not a stickler for the rules. I've spent my time in field hospitals where you have to make do. But there are certain regulations that exist to keep people alive. And there's other ones that are just there to make everyone conform." Like grooming.

"And which do you suggest in our short time spent together think that I am busting? Because we both know I can conform and make this shit look /good/." A smirk twitches but he forcibly tries to frown it away. "Face it Sir, you can try as much as you want to dislike me, but facts are facts. You and I are going to be best friends by the time this tour is over."

There's that look again from Eli. It's positively withering. "Uh huh. And how's that going to happen when you get your ass kicked out of here in a few weeks for running rackets? We're supposed to be the happy Colonial funtime show up here."

"Hey. No rackets." Miko seems to take a certain affront to that, craning over his shoulder to look at Eli again. "Chocolate. I offered you chocolate. One..." His pen makes a swirling motion, "Medical personnel to the other. A kind gesture. A welcome aboard, friend!" He flips the clipboard so Eli can read it if he were so inclined. The requisition is for standard things: gauze, a suture kit, morpha and antibiotic shots, as well as a host of other things which include medical tubing and corn starch of all things. "Now if you don't mind telling me where I can stick this?" Perhaps poor wording.

And to the credit of Eli and his decorum, he does not rise to the bait. There was certainly a day, not that long ago, when he'd hurl back some colourful reply. And maybe he would now, on a good day, if he wasn't so tired. He inhales and rubs his forehead. "Go to the nurse's station. They'll direct you."

"Thanks, Sir. Great to meet a friendly face." Miko's good mood will not be broken! Or at least outwardly. The clipboard sort of ticks off his forehead in a pseudo-salute, which thankfully isn't required as they are technically indoors. "I'll let you get back to your...nap."

"Much appreciated," murmurs Eli as he lifts his coffee mug in return. In point of fact, he has paperwork to do. Hence the power nap before getting down to work. But the last thing he wants to do is encourage Mikolas.


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