In which members of the Wolfpack discuss many vagaries.
Location: Officers Berthing, Deck 8, //Galactica//
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 940
Fresh off of CAP and missed the proper meal cycle. Those marines don't know how good they have it, some days. Niemec is undoing her flight suit as she passes into the barracks- one-handed. The other is holding a sandwich, partially unwrapped, nabbed from the mid-rats that go out between actual meal times. Her hair is mussed from being within a helmet and she looks rather tired as she makes her way towards her -- blessedly, lower -- bunk.
At least raptor pilots don't have to suffer alone. The ECO always ends up in the same situation. He didn't even bother stopping by the cafeteria, instead opting to get in some rest and relaxation before worrying about other things like food. Well, rest, relaxation, and the stash of junk food he has hidden away for just such an eventuality. Jaxon is already laying on his top bunk, a box of crackers open on his chest as he picks his way through the sleeve one at a time, gladly staring off blankly at the ceiling of his bunk. At least he doesn't have to stare at a screen for the time being.
Eva, for her part, isn't coming off CAP, or in search of food. She has, in fact, once again invaded Aerilon airspace and is camped out on Finn's bottom bunk. It rather makes one wonder why she picked herself a top bunk to begin with, but now that the barracks are so full, it'd be nearly impossible to switch. So...she just uses her wingmate's bunk when he's not normally occupying it. No quilting today, either, other than the one she has wrapped around herself, but rather, a tablet, a pad of paper and a dark felt tipped pen, as Eva is working on copying out a design she seems to be getting from the tablet face. Movement in the doorway brings her head up, and the raptor pilot gets a winning smile. And some really terrible Tauron, in both senses of the word, as Eva offers the following very badly pronounced greeting of sorts, "Apollo's Tits!" A beat, "It's the only phrase I could remember."
The sandwich ends up balanced in Niemec's mouth as she finally reaches a point with her flightsuit where she can't manage to remove it one-handed any longer. The rest of it is finally peeled away and she angles towards her bunk, but is stopped by Eva's awkward... and not-very-greeting-like Tauron. There's a flash of a grin, around the sandwich, before Niemec removes the food from her mouth. She adjusts her trajectory to the bunk Eva occupies, leaning down to press a kiss to the woman's cheek. "If I didn't know better, I'd wonder what I did to upset you." It's spoken in a teasing -- if weary -- tone. "Remind me to find you a phrase book someday." Moving on, she does finally make her way to her own bunk to sit and properly remove her boots so the flight suit can come off. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to eat crackers in bed?" This, for Jaxon's benefit, it'd seem.
Jaxon peeks out from his bunk, repeating the words that Eva said very slowly. At least he's a good mimic. He's quiet for a moment then shakes his head. "Nope, don't know that one, but it sounds pithy. Maybe good to shout over a radio one day." Niemec gets a bit of a deadpan stare as he deliberately and slowly puts another cracker in his mouth, and chews, only speaking up once he's done. "No. I apparently wasn't loved enough to be bestowed that most life-sustaining information. I've also eaten sandwiches and cookies in bed. Because I'm a bad person." With that he flops back in his bunk and starts chewing away on another cracker.
Eva moves quickly, managing to return the kiss before Neimec heads off to her bunk. "That might be a good idea. I managed to convince one of the deckhands to teach me some Tauron. I wanted to surprise you, but apparently, all my mind wants to remember is he curses." Which is pretty much the same for so many languages, isn't it? Either people only want the curses, or only remember them because they're the most 'risky'. "I'll teach you one, if you like. I bet you'll remember it." She fires off a quick phrase in Celtan, before switching back to standard, "It means, 'Go shit in the ocean'. Which of course seems like it would be more of a Pican thing, but there you are." She leans forward, looking over at Jaxon, "Well, it would give you a response, at least." And then, throwing her oar in on the food in bed convo, "I feel that I don't mind food in bed, as long as I don't have to lie in the crumbs."
"Very bad." Niemec offers to her backseater, rolling her eyes. "Just don't torture anyone else with your crumb-covered sheets." She nods to Eva, kicking her boots aside before picking up the sandwich again. No bite is yet taken. Instead, she sounds out the Celtan words carefully. A snort of amusement at their meaning. "I'll try to remember that. And aye, it'd get you a reply. Probably not one you'd like, depending on who's on the other end. Ramsay would probably get a kick out of it." The one-eyed Tauran tactical officer. She does finally resume eating, offering between bites: "Can't frak proper if you've got crumbs in awkward places."
"Well, pardon all my cussing being in standard." Jaxon looks like he's about to throw a cracker out of his bunk and across the barracks, but instead settles for cramming it into his mouth with an annoyed look spared for the Tauron, playfully annoyed anyway. "You think I'd waste food by not getting it into my mouth? These crackers are too good to waste on bed crumbs. Nice and cheesy, all the way from Hades." He chuckles rather sharply at the last comment. "I'm sure someone likes crumbly frakking, there's someone for everything and something for everyone."
Even on a first go, Neimec's Celtan is way better than Eva's attempt at Niemec's mother tongue, "What I wouldn't give to see you say that to the nearest Virgon. Ah, rapture." At Jaxon's comment, she nods, "I think you must have met the pair under my bunk." Eva clearly either doesn't know or doesn't care about their names, or even which one is actually the owner and which the 'visitor' only that they annoy her, "I swear they like to frak on parchment paper. Or plastic shopping bags. The amount of noise that comes out of that bunk that has no connection to body parts or bodily fluids is ridiculous." And then, coming back round to the first topic, "I didn't start out wanting to curse. I wanted to say something nice, like..."Oh, your hair looks nice today...I mean, not right now, obviously," she grins in Niemec's direction, "but you know, something suitably complimentary. But that's all that stuck."
"Doesn't matter how carefully you eat them, crackers leave crumbs." Just like sandwiches, for how she's brushing crumbs from her fingers as she finishes the light meal. Niemec finishes undressing. Well, the flight-suit at least. Beneath she's just in shorts and the uniform dual-tanks. The suit gets hung up and her boots shoved into her locker before she flops back on her own bunk. "So what're you working on?" This, presumably, directed at Eva. Everyone knows Jaxon is working on his figure. She snorts vaguely, in Eva's direction. "I haven't heard complaints about my bunkmate-" a glance up, "thank Kobol." She leans back against the interior wall, waving a hand, "I'll take compliments in any language. Even Standard. But I do appreciate the effort." There's amusement -- and flattery -- in her tone. "And Tauron does have some nice swears, I admit."
Jaxon points to where the box is resting on his chest. "That's why you eat like this, all the crumbs go on the shirt, then you just lean over and brush them on the floor like the awful spoiled brat you are." A few more crunching noises come from Jaxon's bunk before the sound of the box being fastened can be heard. Then he does just that, brushing excess crumbs right out of his bunk. "No one around here tells me my hair looks nice." He runs his hands through the short cut, black mop on his head. He long ago gave up on keeping it styled with how much he wears a helmet.
Eva takes her time, looking between Niemec on the one hand, and Jaxon on the other. She even puts down the pen that's been held immobile in the air since this conversation began, "Your hair looks wonderful. Very...I just rolled out of my bunk and did this thing with my fingers. Very risque." That is offered in Jaxon's direction. And Neimec, in truly Eva fashion, "And your ass looks particularly fine today." That's a compliment, right? "I do like those shorts on you. Also, your bunkmate has never complained about me because I am nothing if not discrete."
"Remind me to recommend you for hall cleaning duty," Niemec notes to Jaxon, watching the crumbs fall to the floor. She rolls her eyes, but there's a flash of a grin as her attention returns to Eva. She leans out from the bunk, regarding the other woman. "You do, do you? I'll have to see if I can get away with wearing them more often." In the barracks, one just has to deal with the flirting. Especially since it's likely even less kosher over radios than declaring 'Apollo's tits' in Tauran. The Raptor pilot lifts a hand to push fingers into her hair. "Probably a good thing my bunkmate isn't an ensign. They do tend to be such-" a glance and a grin to Jaxon, "impressionable sorts."
"Thanks, you don't have to compliment my ass though, I know I don't have the right one to show of these shorts to their best." Now the ensign is just being a ball of snark, but at least he sounds friendly about it for the most part, even if his smirk is oh so face-punchable at the moment. He props his head up in his hand, elbow on his bunk as he lays sideways to keep an eye on the barracks and the two senior officers. "Oh yes, because I've never experienced lust and debauchery until I came aboard this fine Battlestar. Just a poor youth, losing his innocence to the ravages of war."
Eva gives Jaxon another look, "Oh believe me. It was not your ass I was complimenting. It's sort of...eh, as man-asses go. Now Farm Boy, on the other hand," She pats the bunk of the missing-in-action Aerilonese pilot, "is truly righteous. For a man. And I have heard...but not personally verified, that quite possibly Twinkle Toes might be worth a look, but again, that is purely hearsay." She points at Neimec, "You should get on that, and report back. You're better at sneaking up on people than I am." At Jaxon's allusion to his innocence, "Oh, I don't think it's that at all. It's just...Antonie and I seem to have a knack for turning up starkers just as some hapless ensign is wandering by minding their own business."
"Don't make me get all jealous of your wingmate," Niemec points out, though there's no malice or anything other than amusement in her tone. She does, however, begin laughing at Eva explains the bit with ensigns. "You make it sound so much more sordid than it really is." The woman does push to her feet, angling her way towards Jaxon's bunk. Hand extended. "Lemme try some of those." Crackers, likely. The sandwich wasn't enough to satiate post-CAP hunger. "Mostly the Ensigns who came in brand-spankin'-new or from colonies without co-ed bunks and the like. Most of 'em have a bit of a... time with the Head, at least." People, wandering about, naked.
"Hey now, my ass isn't that bad." Jaxon snorts softly as he angles his gaze towards Eva. "I've been dealing with locker rooms for years, nothing here bothers me." Jaxon shakes his head. "I've been in enough locker rooms the last several years that nothing like walking in on some naked people is going to bother me. Now if I caught two people trying to have a romantic dinner in some forgotten storage closet or something, there'd be no end to the mockery for that one. Who you hiding from anyway, everyone on this ship knows everyone else's business anyway." Niemec's request is met with a moment of silent, stoney staring before his reaches over for the package and holds it out. "You're lucy I like you."
"Oh," Eva waves a hand at Neimec's comment, "No need to get jealous. You can stare at him too. I am happy to share. He once dropped trou in here and I think there were a good dozen eyeballs turned in his direction." Of course, he probably didn't do anything more than what Neimec just did, getting out of her flight suit, but that's not the point, damnit! "Well," that to Jaxon's protestation on her evaluation of his ass, "Perhaps I didn't get a good enough look." She does a twirling gesture, as one might do to tell someone modeling something to turn in a circle. "Seriously! And really, it's not a secret. You just walked past probably two dozen people lugging your pic-a-nic basket and rolled up blanket and trying to look all, "I totally belong here and I'm not trying to find a quiet place to frak. I mean, come on. Just frak right here. Less walking for you, free audio porn for us....well, if it's good."
"But, darling, the janitorial closet has such ambiance." Niemec can't even hold a straight face as she accepts the crackers from Jaxon. Not even a snarky comment in response, nope. She just opens the box, grabs a few, and hands it back before retreating to her own bunk. "We'll get leave eventually, then some of us can have real dates. But, honestly. We're military. Who the frak cares about dates? Sometimes, I just want to get laid-" a glance, then, to Eva, with a sort of lopsided smile. "No offense. You're much more than just a good frak." Beat. "Though you're a very good frak."
"Yes, the powerful aroma of cleaning chemicals really sets the mood. A mix of hospital and locker room you really can't find anywhere else." Jaxon takes back his box of crackers, tucking them away back into his cubby hole. "I'm looking forward to leave. A chance to get out and about, a little anonymous frakking in some dive bar. It'll be fun. As long as I don't get stuck on shuttle duty." He pauses and narrows his eyes. "I'll probably be on shuttle duty."
"Clearly, we need to discuss our definitions of ambiance with the youngsters." Eva finally turns the tablet around. She's still working on mockups for that squadron tattoo. She's been trying to incorporate little touches from as many colonies as possible. But as one can imagine...it's no easy task. "No offense taken. That's the nicest compliment anyone's paid me all week." She can't help but laugh, "The perks of being an Ensign. You always get the short end of the straw. But just stick with Niemec. Riding a captain's coattails can sometimes have useful sideeffects. It may keep you offduty if she's on leave and your her designated backseater."
"She's got a point there," Niemec offers, moving bunks to occupy... well, the same one as Eva. Even if it's Finn's. This is to take a closer look at the work the Viper pilot has done so far. "Unless you get reassigned to someone else's bird, you'll likely get leave. Rank has some perks, after all." She looks back to the tablet, shaking her head a bit. "Far more talented than I could ever hope to be. I'd just make some sort of scribbled mess and call it a day."
"Tattoo?" Well that has Jaxon's attention, enough for him to angle in his bunk in an attempt to see the screen. He's interested, but maybe not enough to get him to leave the comfort of his thin, hard mattress after a shift. "I've been meaning to get another." The reassurances of being on leave just because the captain is does have him looking a touch more relieved, even if he does add a quip of, "Well, as long as I don't piss her off enough that she decides to boot me to the curb and find some plucky ensign in the storage closet she likes better."
"I don't know about talented, I've been working on it for weeks. I'm pretty sure the Sargeant I convinced to do it has forgotten he even spoke to me." She lets Neimec study it, then leans out of the bunk and turns the tablet in Jaxon's direction. It's a riff on a wolf, for the Wolfpack, with different, well, not tribal, because that doesn't fit this theme, but you get the idea, sort of designs around it. A few of which, the celtan, gemenese, and tauran influences easiest to pick out. She nods, gravely, looking back to Neimec. "He does have a valid concern. I mean...that Tarsis (Priya) does know her stuff."
"Continue sharing crackers and we'll probably be alright." Niemec is munching away as she studies the tattoo. That is, until Eva turns it for Jaxon to see. There is a mild laugh around a mouthful of snack, but she does manage to not speak until she's done eating. There's some decorum in the woman, at least. "He entertains me. That suits me well enough, for now." She does lean over to slide an arm around Eva, leaning in close to murmur something to the other pilot. Something about coming by her bunk later. "...after I've been through the shower, obviously." Post-CAP funk is fun for no one.
"I can get plenty of crackers, no worry there." Jaxon leans out of his bunk enough to get a good look, tilting his head this way and that. "I think it's good enough to permanently put on my skin." He pats the upper arm not currently sporting a tattoo. "Right here, it'll balance out the other one." He disappears for a moment as he rolls over in his bunk, then out pops his legs before he drops to the floor with a soft, barefooted landing.
Eva laughs, answering Neimec in lowered tones, but not so low that it couldn't be overheard. "Thank god. Remember the last time you came over to mine? I nearly took a header to the ground when I missed the top rung of the ladder." Top bunk problems. "Thank you," she adds to Jaxon, before she offers him the tablet. The pad of tracing paper she was working on was a freehand sketch, the type a tattoist might use to block out placement on the skin. Probably created to use to size up on the arm. "Try it out if you like." She indicates the pad as well. "I've got one more errand to run, and then I'll make my way back." Thankfully, she's having one of her rare long shifts off.
<<OOC: Log ending missing. To be added. >>