2237-07-16 - Love Letters

Gwyndolen has lost a slip of paper. Asha is convinced it's a love note.

Date: 2237-07-16

Location: Berthings

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 275

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Gwyndolen is cleaning her bunk. Energetically. This consists of her removing everything--everything--from within and placing it, very precisely, on a nearby bench. Very precisely. As if everything has its proper place even when it's not in its proper place. A tiny sheet of paper flutters down from her pillow when she moves it, landing on the floor.

Asha ducks through the hatch with a metallic clang and a hand that taps a rhythm against her thigh in time to the song she's singing under her breath. She cuts off just as she steps inside - apparently aware that waking any of her new comrades who might be napping is not the best way to make friends - and tosses a bag onto her bunk. She's dressed a tank undershirt and shorts, and a sheen of sweat suggests a recent visit to the gym.

Gwyndolen stoops to pick up that piece of paper and frowns as someone on the other side of the barracks chooses that moment to shake out a blanket, sending a few of Gwyndolen's lighter effects flying, some of them skidding under the bunk. "Oh, blast," says the pilot in her prim Leonese accent, and she moves around the row of the bunks, into Asha's row, as she drops to her knees to see what she can see under said bunks.

Asha spins to catch Gwyndolen in her sights as she drops down. For a moment, she studies the other pilot with a flash of amusement, mouthing 'oh blast' with a curling smirk. She tucks it away before asking, "Lose something?"

"Yes," says Gwyndolen. She hasn't looked up at the other woman yet, still on her knees peering intently under the bunk. "Some--papers and things blew under there when I was cleaning. There is--blast," she repeats again.

"I'd offer to help," Asha says, rocking back to lean against the edge of her bunk. "But I don't think my arms are any longer than yours. Maybe if you blow real hard?"

Gwyndolen does look up this time, giving Asha a slightly sour brown-eyed look through her lashes. "I am not sure," she says, her voice very precise, her accent positively dripping privilege, "whether 'blowing real hard' will afford any advantage other than laughter to everyone around me."

Asha meets Gywndolen's sour look with a grin, her teeth a flash of white against her dark skin. "Some advantage is better than none, no?" she answers. "I know I could use a laugh."

"Alas," replies Gwyndolen, voice dry. "I am not sure whether I could use a blow." A pause. "Yes, I am very aware you could take that in so many ways and I do not care."

Asha laughs at that, a quick, bright sound that matches the glint in her eye. "Oh, come on," she says, pushing away from her bunk. "You can't tell me you didn't do that one on purpose." She gives Gwyndolen a moment's study, taking her in before she drops her gaze to the offending bunk. "Okay," she says. "I'm pretty sure we've got to be smarter than a frakking piece of paper, here. How far back is it?"

"I didn't say I didn't do it on purpose." Gwyndolen, it seems, is capable of contractions when she relaxes a little. A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "I simply said I didn't care." She peers down below the bunks. "I think it is caught in the middle. Someone left some sort of letter beneath my pillow, and likely it will haunt me forever if I never read it. A picture I had my bunk blew under, too." She slides an arm under the bunk in question, but can't reach it, flailing briefly in an utterly undignified position, rear in the air.

"A /letter/." Asha answers this revelation with a low whistle. She grins, watching Gwyn with a gaze that slides toward a leer before she turns away. "Definitely have to get hold of that. What if it's a love note?" She's already rummaging in her bunk, searching for something that might add a bit of reach.

"I find that difficult to believe," replies Gwyndolen, sitting up on her knees and measuring the length of the bunk with her eyes. "Hate mail seems at least as likely."

"Does it? Why's that?" After a moment's searching, Asha ends up with her blanket, rolled tight. "Do you go around pissing in people's coffee?" She turns to extend the blanket toward Gwyndolen in offering.

"That would be anatomically difficult," replies Gwyndolen. A pause. She accepts the blanket. "Not that I have tried." She frowns at the darkness under the bunker, trying to carefully slide the blanket underneath. "I can't say I've annoyed anyone in particular, other than the odd intercultural incident or two."

"Then why're you expecting hate notes?" Asha wonders. She settles back again, folding her arms across her chest as she watches Gwyndolen. "Is the wing just that difficult? Or... what. I guess we're marines in here too, yeah?"

Gwyndolen gives the blanket a cautious wiggle. "Hrm," she says, watching it. "Closer...closer..." Not enough progress, apparently; she sighs. "It is probably not generally difficult," she says. "However, I think people from certain colonies and walks of life will find it easier than others and that is...natural."

"I'll try to remember not to go insulting anyone's homeland," Asha answers. Her tone is light, but there's a serious set to her brow as she watches Gwyn work. "Leonese?" she ventures in easy guess. Asha's own accent is a bit of a muddle, but a good ear can pick out the Scorpian under it all.

"Yes," says Gwyndolen. "Born and bred, formerly of the Leonese Navy. The Golden Templars," she says casually, naming their famed flight demonstration team. "Very different from shooting toasters--ah!" She gives an undignified swing of the blanket, and a folded piece of paper comes skidding out from under the bunk.

Asha's brows shoot upward, clearly impressed, and she straightens a bit. "No shit, the Templars?" Another whistle, this one low and impressed. "Are you sure someone's not writing you love note-- ah!" She dodges down, scooping up the bit of paper as it comes flying out. For a moment she pauses, letter held in hand.

"Well," admits Gwyndolen. "It is possible someone could be writing me love notes." She hesitates for a moment, gaze shifting between the letter in Asha's hand and the picture still under the bunk. She resumes her effort to push that out very carefully. "But even if so, I doubt it is a terribly interesting one."

Asha's fingers draw along the length of the letter, working the crease flatter. She picks briefly at one corner, but stops short of actually opening it. "Want me to see?" she offers instead, her voice lowly sing-song with the offer.

"If you must," says Gwyndolen with a sigh. She bats at the picture and it skitters out; a well worn picture of a small girl with a pair of dark brown eyes very like Gwyndolen's. She picks it up hastily, running her thumb tenderly across the girl's face, and tucks it into the pocket of her flight suit.

"Yeah?" Asha's expression lights again, and she slides her thumb beneath the edge of the letter to pry it open. She gives the rescued picture a brief glance, long enough to note the contents and the tenderness of Gwyndolen's touch, before looking down to the note.

"If it contains any pornographic content, I am sure you are old enough to read it," Gwyndolen replies dryly. A pause. "Er. I am sure it doesn't."

"Well now you're tempting me to make something up," Asha retorts, but she's grinning as she says it. There's a crinkle of paper as she unfolds the note, then a beat of silence while she reads it. "Hey hey," she says after a pause. "It /is/ a love note!"

"What?" Gwyndolen stands up, quickly, but insists, "You are joking."

Asha says, "Gwyn," Asha starts, straightening from her lean. "When we get leave next or sometime, would you want to go out." Here she pauses to lift her brows at the other woman, a pointed look. "See a movie, or something?" she adds, before pausing for a snort before, "If you say no, it's cool. Just thought I'd ask. Mason." She looks up again, adding, "Who's Mason?""

Gwyndolen looks...well, flabberghasted would accurate. Probably not the word she'd use. "Well. I didn't expect that. A..." She hesitates. "I used to serve with him when he was rotated to Leonis for a while. He just arrived here. I..." She doesn't finish. It's clear this is one she has to think about. She holds her hand out for the note, wordlessly.

"Kind of wuss, is he?" Asha assumes. She hands the letter over, adding with a snort of amusement, "I mean. A note? Are we in school?"

"Maybe I am just that intimidating," replies Gwyndolen. She glances at the note quickly, and bites her lower lip. She tucks that away in her pocket, too. "Anyway," she says, voice crisp. "Thank you for your help. I should go finish remaking my bunk."

"Definitely getting that vibe," Asha agrees. The sentiment is perhaps a little undercut but the quick flash of her smile and its accompanying wink. She gives Gwyn a nod, then adds, "I'm for the shower myself. See you around." It takes only half a moment's rummaging before she's headed toward the Head.

Gwyndolen returns to making up her bed. With energy. Thoughtful energy.


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