2237-07-04 - If Wishes Were Stitches

Kyle Returns From Sickbay To Run Into Erin And Josua. She Doesn't Have To Throw The Baby Out For Bathwater, Because Lanval Brings Her...The Bathwater.

Date: 2237-07-04

Location: Berthings

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 210

Jump to End

Nothing says triumphant return like an immediate trip to a Sickbay that's seen far worse troubles over the last few months. Kyle Costello? She gets nudged down far on the triage ladder to having to wait with bandages applied to her arms and her right temple until one of the nurses comes by to sew her up. NURSES. Kyle didn't even qualify for the doctor.

She's definitely not qualifying for any merits for being wounded in battle.

Two hours later, she's making her way towards the Berthings with gauze around both biceps, a freshly shaven and stitched patch above her left temple, and a tiny jar of salve to rub at what will surely be a bruise beneath one of her breasts, courtesy of Cylon weaponry.

"Never let me complain, ever again, about how tactical armor makes me feel like I'm wearing a snowsuit." Kyle comments dryly as she approaches the hatch to the bunkhouse. "My stop, drop, and roll game is strong, but-" Pssh. Kyle scoffs. "I'll pray to Kevlar in the morning."

As she did not have to go to the Sickbay, Erin instead headed to the Head to get a jump on showers. By the time Kyle gets in, she's about to head back out, presumably to the Sickbay. That would explain why she takes with her a small rucksack of sundries with her.

She looks only mildly put-out with having to give back the rockets and launcher.

"Hey, Costello -- they let you out?" Hayes' expression turns from frowny to concern. "Guess you just needed some patching up, then, huh?" Wry smile. "Looked worse than it was with all that blood on you, huh?"

Kyle had quiet company to the sickbay, after getting his own wound treated, Lanval returned to the berthings and seems to be more interested in watching the two women interact for the moment as he moves to his berthing to grab his own shower kit so that he may clean up.

Kyle looks up when the hatch opens. The hand she'd spared to spin the wheel? Useless. Her eyes snap up to Erin's and her hazel eyes blink owlishly to the woman before a tiny smile forms upon her quaint, confident lips. "Not for their lack of trying, but I'm faster than they are." Today, at least. Kyle wraps her arms about her own abdomen and lifts her bandaged arms. "It was...close. Just cuts though, head wounds, you know." Kyle rolls her eyes. HEADWOUNDS. They're like exes.

"Uhm...." Kyle folds her lips in then steps to the side, reaching out for Erin's forearm. "Hey, have you met the new guy? Guy literal?" Kyle turns to the side and motions for Lanval, quietly grinding a pair of knuckles into his elbow. "Corporal Whittaker's from Leonis. Just came in today, because I know a few people were like who's that guy on the Raptor." A beat. "Lanval? Meet Erin Hayes."

Erin shrugs, shakes her head, and then looks at Lanval. "'sup, Whitt?" And that's about how formal she is in meeting. "Hayes. Recon." She gestures at herself. "If you need anything around here, feel free to ask? I usually have my nose where it doesn't belong." Literally, at times.

"Leonis, huh?" The diminutive munchkin sits herself down on a bunk across from where Kyle's is located. "Never been there before." She shrugs, and cants her head to the side a little. "Not very worldly, I guess, but, hey -- can't be all knowing all seeing, right?" Chin-bob. "Well, I ain't going to pretend to be."

Back to Kyle. "You going to be all right, Costello? I mean -- " Beat. " -- you're not, like, needing anything, right?" Blinkity-blink-blink-blink.

After gathering a towel and his kit, Lanval was pretty sure that he was going to be on his way into the shower, when Kyle stops him with a small grind of her fingers against his skin. There's a pause and a turn of hazel eyes towards Erin. "Recon." he repeats, as his own station. As if that wasn't obvious by his deployment in the field at Kyle's side when they went out looking for the Cylons.

"I will." Ask that is, since it seems that he has a word count and the battle earlier took most of it from him - at least that's how he seems to be treating it all as he notices the two women talking and the expression from Erin to Kyle draws a slow blink from Lanval. He may have been behind enemy lines for several months, but.. yeah.

He holds up his bag in his free arm rather lamely. "Shower." Not exactly an invitation to either or both women, especially since Erin just finished hers. But he doesn't have any clue as to where the head is.

"I've never been there either." Kyle walks with mincing steps over the well of the door and into the bunkhouse, following Erin in. "We got all kinds of footage about the Virgon/Leonis drama; frak, there were some shows about it, but from what I saw, it was beautiful." Kyle turns in her walk, moving backwards, towards her locker. "Erin? Lanval's not a very wordy guy, but he ditched me on a high five earlier and made it up. I think we should keep him."

Kyle's shoulder raps against her locker and the brunette hisses, reaching for her bandaged arm protectively. A little rattled, she turns and opens her locker, rummaging around for a towel.

"NEEDING needing? Like what grade of need? I need a shower, but my arms hurt." Kyle glances over her shoulder to Lanval, then to Erin. "It...was a closer call than I've ever had, grenade at all. It's gonna take a little tea to get the image out of my head." Kyle yanks a fresh pair of tanks free and then dips, trying to find sweatpants. "Honestly, I'm just achey, tired, and hungry."

"Shower." Erin sticks a thumb out of the hatch. "Take a left. Right in front." She chin-bobs to Lanval again. "Can't miss it, man. We'll probably still be here when you're done." She can handle people of few words, it seems. If only because she's chitter-chattery at times.

"And you, Costello." She bends a little to open up her sack. "Got some food. Apple? Chocolate? She tosses one of each to her." Beat. Grin. "And I'm not going to wash you for you. You wash yourself. That is, if you're allowed to get washed up." Shrug. "Sometimes, the docs like to make sure that the bandages stay fresh, right? And not wet."

"Would help you." Lanval offers with a little snort. "Since you're keeping me." Fine, he has a bit of a sense of humor. As he listens to the directions that Erin's offering to him, he nods and tips two fingers to his temple. "Thank you." Apparently he doesn't have an opinion on the whole Virgon/Leonis thing, or he just doesn't want to talk about it. Now that he has his wash gear and a towel, he starts to head out to get on his way to the head to clean up.

Stepping into the berthings, dressed in his off duty sweats and short-sleeve shirt and tank top combo, Jos eyes who is around for a long moment. There's like, totally a bandaid on his right arm, because that's as serious a wound he got on the action sequence. "Hey, guys." he greets with a lift of his hand. He carries in his other hand a coffee from the mess.

"Eriiiiin, wait-" Kyle shrugs her shoulders back and dodges the apple in the air. She waves a weak arm after it, but stops it with her foot on the floor. The chocolate bar gets an fanned attempt with her tank top, which knocks it to the floor. "Thank you, but I'm totally off the pyramid courts until I get this figured out. And keeping my bandages dry? Frak them. I smell like a farm." Kyle bends at the waist to pick up the food, then sets it on the table next to her towel.

"I don't know. They did tell me to not get them wet, but I just had to get alcohol swabs to wipe blood off of my frakking neck," Kyle points to her neck, making her point clear to Lanval and Erin. With a frustrated sigh, slight twinge of squeak-scratch to her voice, she plants a hand on the table and leans over it.

"I'm not complaining. Maybe. I think I just need to sit down." Kyle glances to the lower bunk beneath hers. Choosing a chair instead, she lowers down and rests her chin atop the table. "You guys okay?"

"You guys?" Erin makes a face at Kyle for a second. "What do you -- oh, you mean, me and Madsen?" Hand-wave. "Yeah, we're good, we're good. Just, you know -- " Shrug. " -- sort of putting things back together." Grimace. "Because, you know. I'm, ah -- well, you know -- stupid? Nah, that's not really a good word for it, but, you know -- " She draws breath between her teeth. " -- uh. Indiscreet?" Another shrug.

She clears her throat.

"Hey, yo." Erin turns her attention to Josua, in an effort to deflate the awkwardness and tension in the air. "You, ah -- have we met? I don't think we've met, right?" And then, absently, she tosses another apple at Kyle. Because she can, and probably finds it a little amusing.

Okay, so while social interaction has not been his thing for several months - there are some things that Lanval knows. And he senses a drama bomb somewhere in all of this. However, Kyle has made a request. Stepping out for a few moments after giving a wave to Josua, he returns shortly with a plastic bin from the sickbay filled with still slightly steaming water and a wash cloth. This, he sets on the table in front of Kyle. "Sponge bath." he offers up plainly to her.

See, helpful. He's not going to ask about the whole Costello/Hayes/Madsen.. because uh.. yeah. That isn't his business.

Kyle lifts her head from the table slowly. Nosferatu slowly. Her tongue snakes out to wet her lips, lip pulling back to capture between her teeth as she quietly watches Erin explain her Madsen situation. Painstakingly, one eyebrow lifts until it cannot lift further. "Sure." Kyle blinks. "I mean, that's good news to hear, news I expected, but I meant," Kyle points to Josua and Lanval, then her. "The people who were getting shot at. Today." Kyle wide-eyes the awkward and closes her eyes. The apple? Bounces off of her head.

"Thanks, Whitt. I guess...this is what I get until tomorrow." Kyle whines and pushes up from her seat, weakly sucking her ribs in to slip one arm inside of her tank tops. "Can you help me get this?" Kyle asks the newcomer, frowning through the awkward. "Other new guy?" Kyle looks to Josua. "Ignore the post-Sickbay sponge bath. The horror will all be over soon." Kyle frown-smiles to him, then flits her eyes to Erin, then the floor. "Best part of the job."

"Came in just yesterday." Josua shakes his head to Erin, "Corporal Josua Traiga, Clan Windward." To the Colonial Forces, Scorpian clans largely don't mean a damn thing, but Jos can't separate his identity from that of his clan. The very idea of doing so is unthinkable to him. He adds to Kyle's words. "In fairness, the tree took a whole lot more fire then I did today. Good tree, that. I entirely approve on toaster on tree violence. Especially that part where the tree fell on the fraking toasters." Oh he has such hate for them. He flashes a grin to Kyle, "Any scar you get after blowing up tin cans is a scar to be proud of. I'm Scorpian. We find scars attractive." Pause, "...that was not me hitting on you." Ahem.

Erin blinks at Kyle. And then, she goes red. Nice and slow. It takes a few seconds. Fifteen? Twenty? But it's nice to see the raccoon, who is usually confident and comfortable, looks tremendously embarrassed. Enough to make her look like a complete idiot.

"I think everyone's okay," replies Hayes, slowly and awkwardly. "I think. Um." She takes in a breath through her teeth, and then looks between Josua and Lanval. "So -- " Her fingers tap slowly and quietly against her thighs. " -- yeah, I think -- I think they are all fine." Beat. "Hi, Traiga."

Pause.

Back to Kyle. "They took my rockets. My frakkin' launcher." Beat. "So, there's, um -- there's that." Erin gently rubs her arms after. Lost. And, it sounds, sad. A poor, pathetic trash panda.

There's a roll of Lanval's eyes. "Helpless." he teases Kyle as he helps the shrapnel queen out of her tank top. "You have to wash yourself." Because yeah, there's lines, and he's not trying to cross those, especially when Josua makes his quip. There's a lift of his brow, possibly amusement as he looks back to Erin. Not that he knows the woman, but it seems to be getting rather uncomfortable. Is it safe to run away yet? Because he's slowly starting to pull away from Kyle.

"And why the frak wouldn't you be hitting on me? Did I do something wrong, Traiga?!" Kyle suddenly snaps at the man from Scorpia, hazel eyes blazing in a sudden death-glare....that fades into a smile. "Just frakkin with you. You Scorpians are way better than the Tauronese." Kyle laughs to herself. "But this is totally gonna be a panties-on sponge bath. In front of people. I feel twenty all over again." Sigh.

"We'll get you another one, Erin. And we'll get food later, okay? Tell me all about it?" Kyle says to her belly as she tugs at her belt. She wiggles her toes and counts them, looking anywhere but faces for the now. She's stuck in an unsexy, regulation black bra and boy shorts, she dunks her hand into the water for the sponge. Such is decorum.

"I'm not helpless, either." Kyle adds. "Whitt, are you retreating?" Kyle looks down to his feet, then to the others. "Is he trying to get away from this?" Dunk. Splosh. Kyle starts to wipe at her neck. "Please, please don't tell me that the new guy is running away from the ever-obvious ummm derrr whuh thing going on in this room, right now."

"Can take my own shower. Will talk later, Costello." Lanval promises, a light chuck to the woman's bare shoulder before he's head off towards the head because he can take a real shower and by Gods, he's going to enjoy it.

"Eh." Erin makes a noise in her throat. "I guess I don't really need my own rocket launcher. But, seriously? I should have my own rocket launcher." Spirit levels rise in her. Talkativeness increases. "I could paint it up, right? Make it my own thing, and call it my Bitch Goddess. And be like, 'whoa shit now you be gettin' the bitch goddess mad, toaster-boys' before -- BAMPH -- making her explode on them. FWOOSH!" She smacks her hands on her thighs. "KABLAMO!"

Yes. Yes, this is preferable over being maudlin.

Erin snorts, and then gets up. "Sure, we can go get some grub after at the Mess Hall. But I will be reclaiming those apples at some point, Kyle. Mark it." She gestures at her bunk. "Gonna lay back, though, and wait 'til you're done messin' with these men. Ahoyhoy."

"Let's go with its not you, its me, love." The snapping of Kyle has Josua falling immediately and naturally into a fighting stance, even as he grins. Its not that he thinks she's a threat, but he doesn't discount her either, and that vehemence makes him go ready. He's born of war-- granted, interclan war more then anything else, but on a level, war is war. But at the smile he relaxes into an at ease posture, "Pff." he scoffs to Kyle with a grin, "My first shorts-on battle sponge badge, I barely had whiskers over my nethers. Twenty, you say. To this I say, pff." But his voice is light, teasing. "By twenty I was leading assaults on strongholds of other clans. At that point I had forgotten all sense of shame, embarassment or wonder." At that, he winks.

Jos looks to Erin, "Hey." He nods, then a nod for Lanval, "Anyone need any actual assists here?" he asks.

But then he looks back to Kyle, "I don't know about any other new guys, but this new guy here is caving to no one ever."

"Fine. Lunch with everybody. We're gonna catch up on everything, everywhere, and I'll do my best to not smell like antisceptic." Kyle coughs against her forearm, sloshing water over her shoulders and mouth. "We'll talk later, Whitt. You're on the list." Kyle says to him, a departing thing, continuing on boldly through her shower-not-shower.

"No, you threw the apples at me, they're mine." Kyle finds some energy and a tongue to stick out at Erin. "And for the love of the gods that don't exist, Erin, on my word, we'll find a rocket launcher in the field somewhere and if you promise not to blow me up with it, we'll keep it our little secret." Air-kiss, Kyle jerks her head towards Erin's bunk. "Go rest and...thank you." For what? Kyle doesn't oblige.

Which leaves Jos.

"By twenty I was rebuilding engines and drinking beers in the back of trucks making woo sounds and telling jokes about the Gemenese." Kyle snorts back at the man. The sponge sploshes over her belly and the star tattoos low on her hips, then dunks back into the water, making it a weird, gray color. "But don't you dare ever say that you have no shame in front of Erin and I again. We'll find shame. Shame hides, but it's always there."

"Done and done." Erin is on her way back to her bunk, to lay herself down as she said. And, lo, that's precisely what the petite Marine with the fetish for rockets and launchers. It might be something Freudian, hard to tell. "Just pick me up when you go, right, Kyle?" It's a short trip, but it's a trip away, and she ends up taking a few minutes to put stuff into her footlocker before she flops down.

Nope. Josua shakes his head, "I have no shame." he asserts, "Any sense of shame I may have had at one point were beaten out of me by my clan-brothers and clan-sisters, because that would be weakness, and for a son of Clan Windward, we don't do weakness. Or, we beat it out before it spreads." He scoffs, shaking his head. All full of confidence. "Look all you like, ladies, but you'll not find it. It sounds like a fun project to have, though, so I encourage you to try. You will not find this son of Traigos ashamed of anything. But the challenge is accepted." He grins at that.

"I will, Erin. We're due for a hangout." Kyle replies to the floor. She dips her head, smearing the sponge back over her shoulders to the line beneath her ponytail. The hot water collects and runs down the backs of her knees. "Frak, this isn't as bad as I thought it'd be." Kyle grows weak in the knees, which means it's time to stop. She leaves the sponge in the tub of water and reaches for her ladder. "Traigos, you just barely avoid me daring you to drink that tub of water." Kyle begins to climb. "But challenge accepted. I'm just too assed-apart to chase that fox into the woods. Later? Oh, you're screwed, buddy." Kyle laughs coarsely in her disappearing act through her curtain. "Enjoy your awake time. I'm out."


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