Emrys and Eva head to the quartmaster to replace some necessities.
Location: Quartermaster's Supply
Related Scenes: 2237-08-26 - Baker's Dozen
Scene Number: 444
The trouble, with running nearly constant missions, is that both you, and your flight suit get little to no downtime. In normal circumstances, between flights, a pilot would have a chance to make repairs, to clean and maintain suits and helmet. These are not normal circumstances. And so, having left the flight suit she usually wears with a pair of crewmen from the deck, hopefully to be returned, Eva is now at the quartermasters, going through the supply of as yet unused gear, to try to find something that might fit her without too much trouble. She's dressed as she usually is when she flies, in her tanks and a pair of sweats. Comfortable fare for a situation that is usually not at all to do with comfort. "This is a nightmare."
"You can say that again." Emrys comments from behind her. He's in a similar predicament, shopping for a new flightsuit, having managed to put a rip in his. "I'm glad we're pushing them back, but this sort of operational tempo is kicking all our respective butts."
"I look at these things and I think to myself...either I've eaten too many cookies, or not enough. And I don't have enough time to fix things one way or the other." Eva looks over, as Emrys comes in to join her, moving to his own crate. And from the state of the crates, they are not the first pair to be working their way through these replacements. "With any luck, we'll get a break soon. We're all looking ragged. A few more shifts and sickbay is going to be handing out stims."
"The upper-downer regimine. I've seen it on paper, as a purely theoretical exercise...but we might actually be at that point." Emrys shakes his head at the thought of it, digging through his crate. "I think, Eva, you've eaten exactly the right amount of cookies. We're just in a pinch right now. And we'll be in a worse one if we keep losing pilots at the rate we're going."
"I'm hoping that it won't come to that. I've seen too many younger pilots get lost on them and push themselves too far. Of course, I've seen older pilots who do the same as well. Trying to push themselves past what their bodies and their minds can do." A glance over, at the compliment, "That's kind of you to say, Emrys. You did always know how to brighten a bad mood." Which is...well, perhaps not in her particular case, but in many cases more Emrys of Old than Emrys the New. "I haven't heard any good new on Banshee."
"Well, one does what one can." Emrys, more and more, is becoming the man she remembers again. But a slightly better, less awful version. There's a frown at her latter words, and he glances down at the crate. "I'm...not expecting any. I saw how she went down. It would have been better if the roof had given way when she hit it, even partially so."
Eva nods, turning to hold up a suit in Emrys' general direction, as if sizing him up, before she tosses it his way, "I think this might work for you, Emrys." A thinning of her lips, as she hears his estimation, "Yes, the amount of force. I think we're lucky that she wasn't killed outright. But depending on what the lingering effects might be...she may not thank us for that SAR. And that hits a bit too close to home."
"Thanks, I think you're right." Emrys holds it up against himself briefly, double checking, before beginning to try it on. "You're thinking about Kallas?" He asks gently, at the talk of Aubrey's possible future hitting a bit too close to home.
Eva nods, as she moves over to the crate that Emrys is now dressing, and begins her search again, "Yes. We saved Diego's life, and that, I will never think was a bad thing. But he lost the only thing that he ever loved. He'll never fly a viper again. How do you live, really live, after that?" She glances over, watching the man for a moment, as he dresses. "That might not be too bad."
"I think it works. Here, I'll help you find one as soon as I'm done putting this one." Emrys offers, before taking a deep breath as he considers her question. "I...don't know, Eva. Let's pray that we never find out, huh? Although lately I've been forced to entertain the possibility a man can have more than one thing to bring that sort of joy to his life. Maybe that's the key to coping with something like that."
Eva nods, though she doesn't look away from Emrys. I mean, no, she's no longer watching him dress like a creepy stalker, but she is still studying his face, a thoughtful expression on her own, "Let's hope not. But I think it's a hard lesson to learn, isn't it? And not everyone does." She'll wait, patiently, until Emrys is finished dressing, before she speaks again, "Emrys?"
"It is. And I think it's only really taught in some painful way or another." Emrys muses, finishing up putting on the new flight suit before looking over to her. "Yes Eva?"
Eva remains still, the answer to her calling of Emrys name not seeming to be immediately acknowledged. Finally, though, once he's finished putting his new suit on, Eva crosses the space of a few steps that separate her from him, attempting to lifting her arms and attempting to draw him into a hug.
The hug is accepted, and although Eva is the one initiating it it quickly becomes Emrys doing the actual hugging. He seems to be operating on the theory that she must need a hug, having initiated one. For all the emotion in the room, and what has previously passed between them, it's suprisingly natural and unawkward on his end.
Eva does indeed seem to need a hug, and she remains so, her hold fierce, her arms would around Emrys' neck, her face tucked in there. There's something...almost lost, about the way she clings to him, though there are no tears. Only that strange silence.
Emrys lets the hug go on for as long as she needs, one hand moving to cradle the back of her head as she tucks her face into his neck. No words, just silent comfort as he lets her take whatever it is she needs from him.
It's a good long few minutes, before Emrys will finally feel Eva start to let him out of the stranglehold she had on him, stepping back only far enough that she can see his face, her hands falling to rest on his biceps, "I'm sorry, Emrys. I'm being stupid. Thank you for that."
Emrys shakes his head, blinking with slight confusion. "You don't have to apologise, Eva." He murmurs. "I don't...see anything stupid about needing a hug, sometimes. Especially during as something as emotionally wearing as this."
Eva shakes her head, finally stepping back, her hands sliding away, "I do need to apologize. Even if you don't think that I do." There's a smile, that comes to her lips, but it is anything but happy, "Life is cruel, sometimes, Emrys Montjoy."
"Well, apology accepted, then." Emrys offers, still a touch confused. His smile echoes hers, although his is more wistful than downright unhappy. "Yes, Eva Thorne, it is. And yet we cling to it so very tightly. Hopefully we both make it through many more cruelties."
"I'm not sure how many more I can survive, Emrys." She still hasn't stepped away completely, though the embrace has ended. Another long silence, as she studies his face, before she finally does step back, heading back over to the crate, "How many, really, before you say, 'No, no more.'" She digs back in, returning to sorting through the formerly neatly stacked suits in assorted sizes.
Emrys takes a moment, before moving to another crate to help in the search. "Cruelties? Well, I suppose it depends on their source and the payoff. And how much of say you have. Some we just have to weather...others we can choose not to accept."
"Or the lack there of? And some...some you can't escape and can't avoid." Eva pauses, hands deep in the crate, that laugh coming again, "We're speaking in metaphors again, Emrys." And for two people who usually re given to mincing as few words as possible, well.
Emrys shakes his head with wry amusement at that. "We are, it would appear." He agrees thoughtfully. "I can't decide, Eva, if we're suprisingly good at them, or absolutely terrible."
"I would tend to say surprisingly good, considering we can come up with them at all, but terrible, in that it's never difficult for either of us to figure out what the other person is saying. I suppose we are not terribly cryptic people. Perhaps we need to start taking lessons. " Eva pauses, in her search, as she reaches nearly to the bottom of her crate, "I think...I might be able to make this one work."
"Perhaps. I wonder if that would count as 'professional development'." Emrys muses, at the talk of lessons, before offering "I suspect it's because we want to be understood by the other, but an outsider probably would still be confused. Which puts us more into the suprisingly good colomn, I suppose." He looks over to her crate, as she apparently finds one. "That's good..they're going to be calling us any minute, I'm sure."
"Do you think they teach this is Major school? We might be way ahead of the curve if that's the case." A thoughtful nod, as she considers the potentials, "Well, that could certainly be it. I mean, if we don't seem cryptic, everyone will know we're just a bunch of dumb kids from Virgon." She must know the joke works better with just one name, so she doesn't bother sticking her moon in, "Except there's no one around to hear us at the moment." Eva, having pulled the suit out of the crate, begins to step into it. "You know we have to put all tis back, right?"
"It's possible. That would explain why Stirling has so many different ways to say 'How could you be so stupid?' when someone messes up." Emrys grins at the talk of major school and talk of Virgon. "And heaven forbid they figure that little secret out, right?" There's a pause. "I...didn't think about that. I'll make a start." And he quickly steps to.
"Well, it has to be either that, or she just has a very unique set of skills. And I'm not putting that past her at all. That woman is tricky. She seems meek and mild, but she is anything but." It takes a few minutes, for Eva to get herself in, and at the end, the suit doesn't fir that badly. Still a bit too loose, but at least she won't need to tape up the wrist and angles to keep them from pooling up and getting in the way. And once she's dressed, she too begins to pile things back in, a bit more orderly than they were.
"Oh yeah." Emrys agrees. "No way do you get to be CAG by being meek and mild. Especially not CAG of an outfit like this." Little by little, the place comes back together. "Looks like you should be able to fly fine in that one."
"If I can't, I suppose I'll just have to go without." Because, seriously, even if that's not a thing...considering the need for pilots, it would be a thing, "And that would be something for Micah to see. I joked with him about that once." A shake of her head, as she works, moving from the rate she was in, which Emrys left in relatively good shape, to the next one, "Think we'll have enough time to grab something to eat before we head back out again?" The alert lounge has been stocked with food and drink for their use.
"I..imagine that would probably lead to a new callsign." Emrys opines, concentrating very firmly on putting things back where they go. Boxes, things go in boxes. "I think if we make it quick, yeah. We'll be worse out there if we're not refuelled."
"Could you imagine? But it's like I said to him...you only see a pilot from the waist up." Eva finishes with her crate, and heads over towards where Emrys seems to have the worst of the job with more disarray, "Well, let's try to be as quick as I can, and I'll buy you a free coffee."
"Yes...yes I can imagine. But you're right, of course." Emrys laughs at the latter comment, as he continues to make quick work of the box. "Buy me a free coffee, Eva? Careful, you'll spoil me!"
"Perhaps that's the intention, Emrys. And if you're really good, I'll throw in a half od a sandwich, your choice." Working together, it doesn't take the pair long to finish up what they need to celar, and Eva comes back to her feet, "Shall we?"
"Oh my." Emrys even fluters his face for good measure, so apparently overcome he is. Once they're all done, he nods. "We shall." And off he heads, in that direction.