2237-06-10 - Superstar and Pi

Isolde and Rion get better acquainted after the whole beach incident.

Date: 2237-06-10

Location: Berthings, Vanguard

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1115

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Isolde has finally made it back to her bunk after a long shift divided between an actual patrol and then being on alert. She slumps into the berthings with her flight suit unzipped and top-half hanging off her hips. She scored a cup of coffee from the mess on her way, which is probably a poor choice, but she wanted something to help pep her up a bit.

Rion is back from the gym, and then a shower. So his hair is slightly damp when he enters. He's wearing his double tank and pants, with a towel slung over his shoulder and a toiletry kit in his hand. He seems lost in thought as he walks towards his bunk and past Isolde. His bunk is parallel to hers, within a few racks.

Isolde doesn't first recognize Rion, but then she does. She had already had her moment of total fangirl on the beach, so she tries to keep her cool. She's even repeating that mantra in her head: keep it cool, keep it cool. She clears her throat a bit, glancing over to him. "Hey, uh... Gregory." Not Orion. "How're you doing?" She takes a sip of her coffee as she settles onto the bench of the table that runs between the bunks.

Rion is in the middle of stowing his toiletry kit when he hears his name. He turns around and tenses a little when he sees who it is, but he flicks a switch. Be nice. Be cool. "Oh you know. Settling in. It always takes a bit to find your footing on a new assignment. Get the lay of the land, as it were. This is only my second Colonial Forces assignment."

Isolde hooks her feet beneath her as she sits on the bench, both hands wrapped around her cup. They twitch a bit. When he mentions this being his second assignment, she tilts her head. "Oh? Where were you stationed before?" See, she can manage normal small talk without squeaking. She does feel a sudden warmth gather at her cheek, and beneath the tawny of her skin, she blushes. "I'm, uh... really sorry for the beach. You... you being there just totally caught me off-guard. I'm, uh..." She waves her hand dismissively. "A big fan." Frak it, she squeaked a bit then, and it only makes her blush a bit more.

"I was stationed on the Athena," says Rion. "That was my first real taste of battle. Before that I mostly supported the Caprican planetary defense." He's about to say something else about being a soldier, but then Isolde blurts. "I appreciate that." A pause, "I do. I'm just...I feel like people won't take me seriously if they realize I was a cheesy pop star before I started flying. I know it'll come out eventually, but..." he moves from his bunk towards Isolde, "I'd appreciate it if you kept it on the down low? At least until I've flown a couple missions."

"Oh hey... I bet you ran into Specialist Huan over there," Isolde says, perking up. "We worked together on the Battlestar Project. He's a good computer guy... total wiz. Apparently was writing code for some of the big intercolonist companies before the Uprising." Then Isolde quiets, listening with a thoughtful frown. She shakes her head, holding up her hands. "I promise not to tell anyone. Tauron's honor." Then she curls her hands back around her cup, frown still occupying her lips. "But... you're not cheesy. I mean, okay... Enemy of Mine was a kinda cheesy song, but the other stuff? That stuff wasn't cheesy."

Rion blinks. Then blinks again. "...you liked the other stuff?" Apparently, that's not something that he gets a lot. He drops his voice to a conspiratorial tone. "Most of the stuff on my first album is stuff my label told me to sing. There's a couple on there I pushed for."

Isolde raises her brows sharply at the words, and then she starts to laugh a bit. "If I'm gonna be honest... I didn't much like that first album. I mean, I did... because all my friends did... and I remember even going to one of your concerts, and being one of those screaming girls." She blushes slightly, and then shrugs. "But I came across your other stuff much later... it's actually pretty good music to hack to."

"To..." it takes Rion a moment to connect things together. Hacking. Right! "Oh, oh. Yeah, I learned some synth stuff for that album. Dreamland was my favourite track off that album." He hesitates a moment, then, "You know, that album barely made its budget back? That's when I decided to retire from music."

"Yeah... I heard that." Isolde frowns slightly. "Do... do you miss it?" She asks the question cautiously. "And... how did you go from music to military?" She looks quite curious at that. "I mean, you could have probably stayed a civ pretty easy."

"I do, yeah. But the whole controversy," where Rion was accused of hiding the fact that he was born on Tauron, "...and the poor sales of my last album kind of soured me on it. My backup plan was always to be a pilot. And military flight school's a good way to land a good commercial job after you've done a tour."

Isolde looks a bit sympathetic. "Well, you're at least telling me that I definitely don't want to go into music after this is all done. Though, I do hear female drummers are very, very cool in some circles." She offers him a small smile, and then takes another sip of coffee. "Bet this wasn't the tour you expected though, huh?"

Rion looks around the bunks, "Not really. I expected I'd spend my time doing patrol runs near Caprica. Maybe running troops for training excercises. Do my few years, get out with lots of good experience. Get myself a job running passengers vessels to and from Caprica." He lifts a shoulder. "But that's life, I guess." He clears his throat and rubs his chin. "So. This conversation has been all about me. What about you?"

Isolde offers him a wry smile, tucking her knuckles up against her cheek. "Hey, I asked!" Then she shrugs a shoulder at his question and drops her hands back around the cup. "Um, well. I'm a Master Sergeant's youngest daughter, so needless to say I had no desire to go into the military." She offers him a crooked smile then. "But, I got caught trying to hack the Caprica City Department of Transportation... pretty sure my dad swung a deal that if they offered me jail or enlistment, I would take enlistment. So, I did."

Rion chuckles softly. "The military is funny, isn't it? You have people who are here because they had no other choice," he motions to Isolde, "People who see it as a means to an end," he motions to himself. "And people who are in it for a career. It's a recipe for clash. War tempers things a bit, though. Everyone is too busy fighting Cylons to debate whether the military is a punishment, a stepping stone or a career."

"It isn't so much a punishment anymore... was at first. But I was like seventeen when I was enlisted in, eighteen by the time my training was done... that was eons ago." Even if the young Tauron looks no more than twenty-something herself. She then takes another sip of coffee then, appreciating the little zing of caffeine now.

"Basic training was sobering after being a musician and then going to civilian university. I think my drill sergeant recognized me and decided to go extra hard on me." He cracks a smile. "Anyway, I should hit the rack. I have an early shift tomorrow."

"Yeah, I should, too." She starts to dimple. "Nice meeting you, Gregory." Which is how she is carefully not squeeing over it being Rion Orion. She'll just call him Greg. That'll work. She then starts to pull herself up off the bench, swinging out so she can head to her bunk.


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