A very mature exchange between an officer and a gentleman in the ship's Laundry.
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 936
It's Laundry Day. Well, for some. Calliope is one of them, and she's got the run of the room at the moment. The young woman is dressed down in sweat pants and a tank top, in her stocking feet, seated cross-legged atop one of the tables. Her clothes are spinning in a dryer nearby but she's paying them little attention. She's absorbed in two things. Her holoband, which is streaming something only she can see into her brain (something with music, probably, given who she's bobbing her head), and chewing gum. She's taking great care at the moment to blow an impressive bubble. It expands, and expands, and expands...
And a finger pops it, what a spoil sport. At least Miko happens to use one of his remaining few that isn't bloody as he does so, passing by Calliope with an air of 'if he's not having fun, no one is'. "Who are you, and do you have any bleach." Comes the flat questions from the Sergeant as he unwraps a towel from around bloody knuckles, headed towards one of the washers. It seems it's that single thing he's come here to clean tonight.
POP! Calliope's gum masterpiece is ruined. It was sizeable enough that she ends up with some gum all over her face around her nose, once the damage is done. "Hey! Gods! Frakker!" She's surprised enough to jump a little on her table. Glaring at Mikolas, once her attention is out of whatever she was tuned into. She does not look sorry for swearing at him, once he has her full attention. "I'm someone you need to be way nicer to if you want to use my bleach. Who're you?"
"Just a wounded soul." Miko's good hand rests over his heart, "I've heard chicks dig that. So can I borrow some bleach or not? I'll hit you back after my next trip to the commissary for the good shit." He selects a cold setting from the washer, letting it start to fill with the lid still open as he runs his injured hand beneath the waterfall. "Pleeeeeeeease?" The medic turns back towards her with a flash of smile and a crinkle to the corner of his eyes. It's one of those practiced cheesy ones.
The look Calliope gives Mikolas when he talks about what 'chicks' 'dig' manages to combine and sneer with an eyeroll. It's facial gymnastics. "Oh. My. GODS." She hops off the table and pads over to her duffel. She get the bleach in hand that she, apparently, does possess. Eyeing him narrowly she asks, "What kind of good shit? I don't just give this stuff away. I'm not that kind of Caprican."
Miko makes gimme fingers for the bottle, "The sort of bleach that's color safe and smells like a spring meadow instead of cat piss. Now c'mon, before this shit sets in and I have to go through life with one of my few issued towels that looks a girl had her monthly all over it." A pause. "Isn't that /all/ Capricans?" Brow raise.
"Damn straight," Calliope replies, as to her planetary inclination to bargain. She makes an "Ugh" sound and passes him the bleach. "Fine. But you owe me. We will settle the terms at a later time." She tries to sound ominous as she says that. It's maybe ruined a little when she runs her fingers through her hair and comes across a bit of gum. "UGH."
There is a snort of laughter as she runs across that stickiness of gum in her hair. "Peanut butter. That'll get that out for you. Just like normally I'd use lemon and seltzer for blood stains, but. You do what you gotta do, right?" He unscrews the cap and adds a dollop of bleach to the cold water before setting the bottle back next to her. Excess water is wiped off his injured hand on the seat of his pants before he offers it over for a shake. "Sarg Miko Kovac, CMC medic."
"Drake. Calliope. I'm a pilot. Ugh. Ensign. Oh. And they call me Bullseye now, I guess." It's all rattled off like she's not entirely sure how it all pieces together. She does not have the patience for peanut butter, instead just yanking at her stringy blonde hair. She gets the gummy part out, though not without a wince. "So, how'd you hurt your hand? Like, you took my bleach, you totally owe me a story."
"Shaving accident. In other words, I lost my cool and punched the wall in the Head." It seems to be a common occurrence and thus, Miko's a bit unfazed by telling the story to a random stranger. "So are you a viper or raptor jockey? Say, I didn't like, interrupt you riding the wild spin cycle, did I? If so, I can give you a few more minutes and then come in at an even more inopportune moment."
"What'd the wall ever do to you?" It sounds like a rhetorical question. Gum kind of out of her hair, Calliope resumes her perch atop the table. Within line of sight to watch her dryer spin. His question is greeted with another eyeroll. "Ugh. Eww. No. I'm not a barbarian. Or a guy. I've got my own bunk for that. I was just catching up on some vids. And I fly a Raptor." She says it with just a touch of pride.
"So then you know Reznik." One rhetorical question deserves another. "But guys don't spank it in the laundry, sweetheart. We have showers for that. And bunks. Just if you ever find a crusty sock in Officer country, it's not mine, I can assure you that." Because he's enlisted, of course. "Say, does that fancy thing get porn? I keep meaning to try out this new POV clip I downloaded."
"You are super charming." The sarcasm is thick. "But thanks for the advice. It gets whatever you can get on a personal drive. The Cylons frakking up the networks has kind of screwed random found porn." The name 'Reznik' gets a nod from Calliope. "Yeah. A little. Not well, but we're both ensigns. I think this is the first post for us both."
"Thanks. I super try." He responds just as dryly. "And yeah, it's her first. Look out for her for me, and I'll get you a little extra something something for your troubles. I know a guy who has a direct line to chocolate on the mainland." Miko checks the chronometer on the wall. "I gotta get to shift. Make sure no one pisses in my laundry, yeah?" Because that apparently has been known to happen.
"Chocolate?" This makes Calliope sounds a little more warmly disposed toward Mikolas. A very little. Her head tilts when he mentions Danica again. Curious. But whatever she's wondering, she doesn't ask about just now. She rolls her eyes at him, but nods. "I'll keep it clean, Marine. Later."