In the berthings, injuries and old memories are discussed.
Location: Berthings, //Vanguard//
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1055
Lyn is sitting at the table nearest her bunk, wearing workout shorts and a tank top, all things she can managed to get in and out of easier because they don't involve buttons or zippers. Her right arm is still in a sling and all stitched up in two places, but the bruising is starting to fade around the injuries. Her hair is messy (ever tried brushing your hair with your off hand?) but she looks like she got a shower in the last 24 hours.
The Ghost has a cup of coffee in front of her, along with a datapad on which she's tapping in her report for one of the Gunnys. Her feet are bare and propped up on the chair across from her.
Cate could definitely sympathize with the hair problem, as anyone who'd seen the scars on her arms could guess. "Hey," she greets as she spies Lyn at the table. She doesn't sit, but leans against the locker of a nearby bunk - actually, her own bunk, if one paid attention to such things. "How're you doing?" she wonders with a cordial smile.
Lyn looks up from her slow left-handed datapad tapping and gives Cate a small smile. "Everything from the waist up hurts, but that's to be expected." She reaches for her coffee, tipping her chin towards a chair, inviting Cate to sit with her. "But I don't get dizzy every time I stand up anymore, and I was able to eat today without wanting to do puke it all back up, so I consider it a good day."
Entering the berthings, Jonas is carrying a roll of papers with him as Abigail comes in from behind, "So these scientists, they had planned this celebration, and they had all these boxes of wine. And they wanted to have it chilled by that evening. They had this bright idea of setting out the case of wine in the snow, so it'd be super chilled by the time we got back from taking the final readings.." he's explaining as they walk, approaching where Cate and Lyn are.
"We get back, and the crate's been completely smashed. I follow the trail of spilled borgeoux in the snow.. and I come across this seven foot tall polar bear that is completely smashed out of his mind and just laying on his back, one of the boxes sprawled off to the side where he had drunk all six boxes."
"Well that's progress," Cate says to Lyn, surveying the wounds with a concerned frown. "You took a few good knocks. I'm glad you're on the mend. You need anything? Know it's a bitch dealing with clothes and hair and shit when your arm's laid up." She glances over toward the door when the others arrive, offering a little nod.
With her good arm free, thanks to Jonas, Abigail can manage the walk back from the chapel easily enough. She's dressed in workout clothes, and there's a few strands of hair stuck to her face, so it's a good bet she's been working out when she most likely shouldn't, "So...let me get this straight. A cadre of scientists, six cases of wine...and a polar bear. Was it at least passed out?"
Lyn stiffens for just a second at the familiar voice as Jonas enters, then she snorts out a laugh at his story. That makes her put her coffee down and press her good hand to her chest, because laughing frakking hurts. "Now you have to explain what you 'replaced' the wine for the celebration with," she quips. Clearly, she was there. Her eyes rest on Abigail for a moment, then drift back to the Doc.
Arda shakes her head a little to Cate. "I'm good. I had...help with getting cleaned up last night. If I need more though, I'll let you know." No she won't. Stupid stubborn bullheaded Aquarian.
"This story wouldn't be much fun if it was!" Jonas says with a laugh, as he continues. "So yeah, it's awake, and it comes lunging at us like some Caprican line dancer with it's eyes closed. So, we have this fresh out of hibernation bear that's first meal was over 5000 cubits of wine, and he stumbles by and heads down towards the access road. I followed it down to the road, where it goes, falls into the creek and passes out." Jonas responds as he holds up his finger, to Lyn. His story, he gets to tell this part of it.
"So I called in a Raptor to lift the thing out, and as we're putting the straps around it, it passes it's first post-hibernation fart, and it was /rancid/. We finally have it carried off, and I look over at the scientists, gesture to the Raptor and go, 'I'm not koalafied, but I'll say he's going to bear-ly make it'."
Cate looks between Lyn and Jonas when she catches that look. She nods to Lyn. "That's good. Just let me know if you need anything." The story gets a little snort, then she's looking at Abigail. "Good thing I'm not a doc here or I'd have to yell at you for trying to pull your stitches out," she says dryly.
As Abigail steps in, catching sight of Lyn, she offers the woman a pleasant enough nod, before she waits for the punchline of the story. When it comes, Abigail holds up a hand, classic, 'just a minute' sort of thing. "Hold on. On second." Abigail moves over toward her bunk, not a problem, as she is only a few beds in from the hatch. She ducks down, in that sort of halfway lean that you have to use when you have a bad arm and stitches in your gut, pulling out a pillow, promptly tossing it at the back of Jonas' head. "You, my friend, are no stand-up comedian." A mildly sheepish look at Cate, "I only worked the good side."
Lyn rolls her eyes so hard it's a miracle they are still in her head. She has obviously heard this story many, many times. "Will do, Doc," she promises Cate, though maybe her toes are crossed where they are propped on the chair across from the one she's sitting in. She lets Jonas continue his story without interruption though, jumping a bit at the pillow throwing.
FLUMP The pillow smacks Jonas and he laughs. "Oh come on, that is one of my better stories." he mutters, as he gestures to Lyn. "As she was saying, they had to replace the wine for the celebration, so one of them, a chemist, decided he was going to use the coffee grounds, and try to ferment them to make it into a drink." he says as he catches the pillow and tosses it back to Abigail. "It worked.. but no one realized that while wine was only about 7 percent alcohol, this guy made 80 proof coffee sludge. I... well, I retired early that night after their shenanigans began." There's a smirk and a chuckle at that. "How are you doing, Rhodes?" he asks the medic as he settles on the bunk next to Abigail.
Cate just gives Abigail a skeptical scoffing noise, but says no more about it. She does arch her eyebrow at Jonas' story. "80 proof coffee? Damn, I've been missing out." She continues to lean against her locker, watching the others. "I'm all right. How about you guys? Holding together?"
Abigail does not, currently, have the physical dexterity to reach out and catch even a pillow, especially not with her off (right) hand, so she ends up just ducking out of the way, at least enough for the pillow to hit her square on the the hip. Rather than bend down to pick it up from the floor, she carefully lowers herself to the bunk, waiting until she's fully seated to push the pillow closer with her feet, "You know, things do tend to get boring on a ship. And the one thing we've got plenty of...is coffee grounds." A nod, for the more serious topic. "I'm surviving...just a lot of things on my mind. But my body is healing, so I have to be grateful for that."
"You retired all right," Lyn says with a small chuckle. "And I was left babysitting a bunch of WIDE AWAKE, very drunk scientists, who I ended up locking in the mess to keep them from launching an expedition to see how close they could get to Thula's caldera without getting burnt to ashes." She watches the pair move to sit together and then flits her eyes back to her datapad. "Did everyone have a Gunny breathing down their neck for a report, or just me?"
"No, I had one too. I guess with the recent events on Canceron, it's to be expected." Jonas says, exchanging a look with Abigail for a moment as he uses his own foot to lift the pillow for her to grab before he takes his seat. "It was a thing involving civilians, they want to make sure we did everything right, probably."
Cate nods to Abigail. "Yeah, thank goodness for that." She slants a look to Lyn then. "He asked me for a report too. Hate doing paperwork." Jonas' theory gets a little nod. "Heard the prisoners are doing all right, though. I mean, well as can be expected considering how they were treated." A little frown there. "That's something."
"Same. I sent one off earlier. I don't know if it's the friendly fire incident, or the fact that we've seen more advancement in the cylons' tactics in one month than we've seen in the six before. It makes you wonder how many more changes we're going to see before we even leave this planet."
"I'm not entirely sure how to properly word, 'Things were going great until some idiot toaster tried to carve me up like a roasted turkey since he brought a knife to a gunfight, and then his pal shot me in the head and tried to turn my liver into swiss cheese. After that, I have no clue what shenanigans the civvies got up to," Lyn mutters.
"They got free." Jonas says simply, "And we were able to get everyone else out. Hayes did a hell of a job watching over you, Lyn." he offers quietly as he leans back on the bunk to look up at the bunk above his. "I should put something up there." he says mainly to himself.
"I dunno, but I for one can't wait to get out of this damn jungle," Cate grouses. She grimaces at Lyn's description. "Don't think you need to do much more than that really. I mean, you got shot in the head. Not like they can really bust your ass for not remembering anything after that." She straightens up then, pushing off her locker, aiming on heading out. "I'll see you guys later. Try not to bust any stitches."
Abigail looks over, from where she's sitting, on her own bunk, watching Jonah on his. It's just a hop, skip and a jump, away, as he has the one next door, "If it's an elf, I will smother you in your sleep." She glances back to Lyn, "If he tries to sneak one in, it's all out war." She is, of course, speaking of that Aquarian elf on a shelf thing that has been giving her nightmares since Jonas told her about it.
Lyn grunts as she clicks to send the report as is. "If they have a problem with it, they can let me know." She nods to Cate and then grimaces, as that just leaves her with the...couple. "Yeah, we tortured my brother with one of those at the base. He'd go into the showers, it'd be sitting there watching him. He'd go to bed, wake up with it next to him, staring with those unblinking beady little eyes. I think Jackson was one step short of visiting a shrink after he burned the doll and it showed up again the next day." She looks over at Jonas. "Ingvar bought 3 of them just in case."
"What, scared you're gonna be a bad girl and be turned into a horrible snow beast?" Jonas asks with a snicker as he glances over at Lyn and snap-points. "Exactly." He wisely doesn't say if he still has one with him on the ship as he grins casually at Abigail. "Well, if you have something better for me to use as a bunk decoration?" he asks as he moves to root around in a box, before coming up with a little plastic.. snow globe. Of a Raptor in flight, reading SAR Exercises, 2233. And the backdrop of the snow globe is obviously Mount Thula.
"I cannot even imagine the horror of that. Especially as a child, when you spend most of your time not wanting people to see what you're doing." Abigail tilts her head, looking in as Jonah begins to unpack, "I think I saw something like a can radio, just string it up, some bells, so we can wake you just as you fall asleep."
Lyn's bunk around the corner isn't very decorated. There's just her ice axes mounted, and a small, wrinkled photo of herself with her parents and brother. Jonas could very well have taken that picture. Anything else personal is kept tucked away safely in her locker. She flits a glance at the snow globe.
"I think Rhodes has one of those with her bunkmate. Me, I can sleep damn near anywhere. Pretty much like Lyn there." he points out. "She sleeps in Raptors." Jonas responds, but he's not quick to unpack the rest of his bunk yet.
"Well, I suppose they're more comfortable than planes, at least if you're not in atmo, or your pilot isn't shitfaced." Abigail, for her own part, has not unpacked much of anything in her own bunk, but there's a closed album of photographs, real ones, on the edge near where her head would be when she's sleeping, right beside the reading lamp. "Dead. That is all I am saying to you."
"When you spend enough time on long range recon, or babysitting scientists camping on the side of a volcano, or spend 3 days hiking through a blizzard for an SAR because the weather is too bad for the birds to fly, you learn how to sleep anywhere, because if you aren't rested when you need to be awake, you get yourself or everyone else dead when you are moving." Lyn smirks. That last was the first mission she had with Jonas. Idiot scientists, measuring seismic activity, fell in when a crevasse opened, and a blizzard kicked up by the time the SOS got to the station.
"Dead, huh?" Jonas' tone suggests a complete 'Mission, Accepted' tone that Lyn will know all too well as he Marine radio man does take out one more item - a small transistor radio. He sets it on the side of his bunk, near his pillow, and turns it on after checking the batteries, and it sounds like white noise is coming from it, but there's a small clicking sound on occasion. It's what he's listened to since Aquaria fell - the frequency for the mainline Aquarian emergency channels, listening for any sound of life from the planet.
Abigail listens to the story, to two facets of the same story, told from two very different perspectives, a stranger looking in from the outside, at a colony and a lifestyle she's never known. "Ah, I think I can relate. When I got onto my first ship, you learned quickly not to allow the weather to bother you, rolling waves or tsunamis, you just ride them down and tried to get enough sleep to do you next duty shift." She hasn't seen the radio Jonas pulls out before, but it's not that dissimilar to many of the marine radios most ships carry for emergencies.
"You learned quick enough. That first SAR was rough though," Lyn chuckles. "Should have seen him. He hadn't even gotten all his shit unpacked and my dad stomps in and tells him he's going out on an SAR. On foot, because the slope the scientists were on was too unstable for a snow cat. Blizzard conditions and no sign of it letting up possibly for a week." She shakes her head a little and looks at the radio. She grimaces.
"She ate up every second of it." Jonas grouses as he sets the radio on the shelf next to the snow globe. Seems to be all the decorating he's going to do for now as he nods to Abigail. "Totally not that much different. Just our wind is colder than yours. Or yours is well.. hotter." There's a little blush at that, fortunately no one can see as he's laid back on the bed.
Abigail settles back, scooting back into her bunk, so that she can use the back of the bunk to support herself and take some of the pressure off of her stitches, "It's what you're used to, right? I mean, if you're used to snow, it's how you function. Same as living and breathing being on the water." But Abby seems content to let the other two just talk, allowing the stories of another time and place to wash over her.
Lyn leans back in her chair a bit and folds her arms as best she can with one of them in a sling. "Dad shouted, "Marilyn! Take this rook out and save those dumbasses on the east face! If he falls behind, let him freeze and pick the corpse up on your way back!" Gabriel Arda was quite the character. "He always liked Jonas though, once he proved himself. As for soaking it up, I was more pissed he was sending me out with a greenhorn, because I was queen of the mountain and I could have gone alone. At least in my head." Ah memories. She sits up then, and gingerly gets to her feet. "Well, I'm gonna hit the rack. Night." She only has so much strength in the face of memories. She heads around the corner to her bunk.
"Night, Lyn." Jonas isn't sure what else to say in the face of Lyn bringing up those memories, as she plucks at the scars of her heart and opens them anew. He blows out a breath, laying back on the bunk, head turned to face Abigail's as he folds his good arm behind his head.
As for Abigail...what can she say? She has none of these shared memories, and only a grasp of similar situations. And that's not enough to allow her to bridge the gap between hearing a story and reliving it. "Night, Arda." Eyes studying the floor, a few long moments pass, before Abigail scoots back out from her bunk, moving over to Jonas'. Sitting on the edge, looking out into the berthing, she offers a hand, for as long as he needs one.
Once Lyn's closed up, Jonas pulls Abigail into his bunk with him, pulling the curtain closed. "Stay with me?" he asks quietly, quite evident that wasn't an enjoyable experience for him.
Abigail makes no protest, as she's drawn inside, and Jonas is careful of her injuries, so she has only to make herself comfortable as she settles in against his side, "Always. For as long as you need."