Packing in before the long trip. Kyle locks into the berthings on the Dauntless for the first time.
Location: Dauntless - Berthings
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1411
New lease on life? New ship. When Kyle returns to active ship life, it's with a duffel bag stuffed to the gills and yet another map in her hand to memorize. The Dauntless, much larger than her last ship, has Kyle a little bewildered by the time she pushes through the hatch and into her bunkhouse, staggered under the weight of her indomitably heavy duffel bag.
"You'd think I would have packed lighter but nooo..." Kyle grouses to herself, looking down to the piece of paper in her hand while scanning the bunk numbers all of the way down to the matching top bunk. WHUMPF. The duffel comes down and Kyle opens the panel to her locker. "...frakkin crazy how much I missed this." She adds, speaking to herself, as she lifts her hands high above her head and stretches backwards in a spine-cracking stretch.
Speaking of grousing, Erin is grousing. Sort of. She's actually in a peckish, grumpy sort of mood, half-concealed in her bunk with the covers up to her waist. She looks to the side when she hears Kyle, and says to her, quietly, "Don't dump stuff in my locker, 'kay? It's full of other stuff." And then, she goes back to -- is she reading a book? Yes. Yes, she is.
Erin's usually a little more spry than that. Friendlier. She's in a mood, apparently.
Kyle isn't the only one coming with a big bag of belongings, there's also Donny. He's got his bag cradled in his arms as he's making his way into the bunkrooms and he's bumping into a few folks on the way, giving them a quiet, "Oops- sorry. My bad." along the way. He's looking around, and he spots Kyle and Erin- shooting them a grin, "Hey, guys." he says as he wanders over to Bunk 4, and unceremoniously tosses his bag up before climbing up to begin turning it into his base of operations. He's setting up stuff on the wall, up above- wherever he can fit his junk. "How're we all doin' today?" he asks, before he slips out a wallet from his bag. Hint: It's not his. "Anyone want the Capricans wallet? He terminated his card but there's still a few cubts in 'ere."
"Yeah, full of other people's stuff." Kyle grins impishly when she says it, knocking her knuckles against the well of Erin's bunk before pulling on the pull-tie of her duffel. Bending at the waist, she widens the hole in the bag and starts pulling out carefully folded sections. "Maybe even some of my stuff, but I'm not gonna open your locker, because then I'd lose my ability to claim ignorance."
Kyle leans up from her bend to look down the row at the sound of Donny's voice. Her grin expands.
"Donn-ayyyy." Kyle chirps out, waving a bag of shower supplies in the air before it finds its place in her locker. "I am smiling through my hangover; packing for a trip. How about you two?" A beat. A huff. "And the frak are you doing with a Caprican's wallet? Them's my people, you know."
"Oh, he beat some poor sap up, took his stuff." Erin grumps where she is. Grump. "And, yes, I have some of your stuff. Admittedly, they were going to ship it all back home, but I just had to keep some of it for mtself."
She looks to the side to Donny, and chin-bobs at him. "'sup?" The raccoon points to her book. "Catching up on fun reading. Stewing in my own juices. Being bitchy." Truly, Erin is a truth-sayer, for she has that resting bitch face look to her. Like Anna Kendrick.
"Bar fight." Is all Donny says, with a devilish grin- as if that explains everything. "Well- my chest smarts since I thought that target shooting with two fractured ribs was a good idea. When the folks at med-bay heard that, they were convinced letting me drink would be a even worse idea." There's a pause as Donny is slowly spreading open his bag, eyes sparkling childishly and mischievously at what's inside. Then he looks back over to the two recon girls, "They're kinda right, but still- buzzkills." he says with a lopsided smirk.
Donny frisbee's the wallet off towards Kyle, "Your people, your cash." he says, "I got as much fast food out of it as I could." he says before he's looking back to his bag. There it is. His tool of chaos- Donny pulls out a Merf gun, the grandest tool in firearms dealing in bullet-shaped foam. This one is a mock up of one of the more common light machineguns out there.
"Frak-wai-n-!" Kyle protests while the wallet is in midair. When she catches it, she nearly hobbles the leather wallet to avoid touching it, but relents with a sigh. Welcome to being an accomplice. "The shit I get myself into." Kyle casts a warning finger to Donny at the foam weapon, dumps out the rest of the cubits from the wallet, and wipes it down with a handkerchief.
No fingerprints. That's the state the wallet ends up in before Kyle throws it into a nearby garbage bin.
"Well cheer up, Erin; you can keep the stuff of mine you stole fair and square because they thought I was dead." Kyle unrolls her duty blouses and stows them. "Don't stew. Don't be bitchy. I'm trying to go into this next tour with like a-" Kyle stops and hops in place, hands waving around her head as she fails for the right work. "-energy or something, I don't know. Leave was great. Let's get this the frak on, you know? Donny? You with me?"
Erin eyes Donny for a second, and makes a face at him. "You serious? Merf gun?" She slams her book closed, and sets it aside. "Damn, so childish." BITCHY, she sounds. So much so that she swings her legs out of her bed, and goes to her locker to get something.
Apparently, she's either just wearing her tank top (which hangs down to her mid-thigh) or she's wearing very simply undies.
From her locker, Erin pulls out her raccoon hat -- gray with ears -- and her matching raccoon scarf. She fits the items on her head and neck, and goes back to her bunk, getting back under the sheets to pout and look like someone has punched her in her soul.
"Sorry. Had a bit of a shit day and I don't like myself." Huff. "I'll be fine." As mean as she seems to be, she's adorably mean. Especially after she crosses her arms.
"You know I am--" Retorts Donny, his attention divided between his recon comrades and his new toy. He's into his bag again, taking out a small towel and some small tools. Tweezers, springs, and some small screwdrivers of varying sizes. Now he's going to work with taking apart the 'gun'. "Gotta make up for lost time y'know." At least he isn't taking any of that bitchiness sent his way. Or maybe he's used to it. Both? Who knows. He looks up over to Kyle, his face becoming a bit more serious. "I've got a lotta pain to give those toasters. I'm probably gonna be outta duty cause of my ribs thanks to them." he says, before he's looking back down to his handiwork. "Now I gotta break somethin' of theirs." he says. Then there's a grin. "Think you can install one of those ad viruses onto a Cylon? That'd be fun to mess with 'em with."
Kyle presses her back to the wall, giving Erin the room to move without the human-shaped obstacle course in the way. She folds her arms under her breasts and tips her brow, ponytail swaying, to observe the Trash Panda in her native environment. She cocks a brow to Donny, then resumes her Erin-watching all of the way back to her bunk. Kyle bites down quickly on her lip and widens her eyes...then narrows them.
"Donny, we are going to frak some shit up. Or laze stuff for the Air Wang to frak shit up, but all's the same." Kyle bounces in her lean into Erin's bunk to squeeze the outline of her knee covered by her blankets. She's out again, quickly, turning to bend over for her duffel again, unpacking. "I'm shit with computers but if there's anything I can do to help you replace Can-head programming so that all they see are penis enlargement ads?" Tsk. "If that ended the war, I could live with getting a medal with you for that. Daytime talk shows. Cereal boxes."
Pout. Pout, pout, pout. Erin sighs with exasperation, and then looks to Donny, smiling at him thinly. "Of course we're going to frak 'em up." And then, to Kyle. "Sure." Beat. "You know, one moment, your best friend's dead, the next she's back, and then the next, we're going to go traipsing itno the fray again." Harumph. Tragi-sigh.
"Mmph." Headshake. "I'm sorry, don't mind me." Erin licks her teeth, and then looks around her bed for a moment. Then, she pulls out an apple from somewhere, and starts chomping on it. Slowly.
Did somebody say 'Air Wang?'
Ines appears as though summoned, though she's arguably average in the air department and markedly short on the wang end. What she does have is a tablet that she's focused on almost to the point of becoming a pedestrian hazard in the hallway. Not used to the ship yet: her shoulder glances off of the sidewall as she turns the corner, earning a wince and finally an upward glance that circuits the people present. Unfamiliar faces, all of them.
Mentally playing back through what she heard while she was focused on the tablet --
Brows knit. A worried, uncertain look. "The toasters...have genitalia now?" Because what?
"We'd be heralded as the people who saved the colonies- all with 5 easy steps." Donny's snickering to himself as he's got the plastic receiver off the merf gun and he's setting it aside. Now he's beginning to play around with the toy weapons innards, taking out things here and there until he's at the part he wants to be: The spring-loading mechanism. Now he's replacing it. "Frakkin' 'em up's in the job description- so of course I'm gonna frak 'em up." There's a look over to Erin, listening to her quietly. His own smile and humor is missing for a moment as he casts his gaze downwards.
Then Donny's looking back to his merf gun. "Guess that's the curse of soldiers. Little rest, little mourning, little fun. Lots of fighting, bleeding, dying." There his own pause, "That's th' curse of Wolves, I guess. Hoo-ah." It'd seem like his mood was chilled by Chilly, but when he hears that uncertain question from Ines he's nearly choking on his own laughter- a hand balling into a fist that he covers over his mouth. "Y-yeah!" he says, looking over his shoulder at her with a wide, amused grin. "You didn't get th' briefing? They're toyin' with uh.. 'Synthetic Reproduction Technology'." It's obvious he's lying, he's making no attempt to hide it, but he's staring hopefully that his seed of bullshit grows fruitfully.
"I call bullshit, Erin." Kyle hangs her duty BDUs and her dress gear, complete in its dustproof sheath, onto a rack. "Not that I'm not your bestie, because I think you're mine, too, but traipsing?" Kyle gigglesnorts. "You don't traipse." The sound of metal hangers on metal rings out as Kyle makes room. "We'll stalk. HUAH."
Kyle signs out her agreement with Donny, the 'huah' coming from deep within her gut. She spins around to the unfamiliar voice and wide-eyes two hazel orbs towards Ines with an alley-cat of a smile. "Riiiiight." Kyle's brain moves slowly. She folds her arms again, cocking a hip. "Uh, I mean, where else do you think they put their data ports? They're all guns and helmets, so if you ever see a Cylon bent over a table it's because they're about to get some frakkin' knowledge." Kyle red-faces and turns quickly, ponytail swinging in her turn back for her locker.
Erin face-makes at Kyle, and then rolls her eyes.
"Sure, sure." Might as well play the game. Because Marines are assholes. "I mean, it makes sense." Beat. "Soon, they'll be fighting over which one is the most attractive robot, which, of course, they'll all want to mate with to form the next generation of synthetic, artificially-intelligent beings. Except, of course, they aren't intelligent if they end of flocking to the same, easy floozy that opens her legs to any man-bot or woman-bot that tosses a shred of affection at them."
Erin looks at her nails. "Then the robo-hens will fly home to roost, and, next thing you know, WhoreBot3000 is going the latest edition to be canned for being way too frakkin' easy." She looks to Ines, and then grins at her widely. "You know how it goes."
Few things could be flatter than the sudden flattening of Ines' expression once Donny turns around and angles that grin her way. It's a look she shares with Kyle as she chimes in, and Erin in turn. "Yes, very funny." A few steps take her a little bit closer to the knot of conversing marines, and halfway there the corner of her mouth turns upward. "...Actually, I'd pay to read that comic. Or trashy serial, take your pick."
The screen of the tablet is cluttered with DRADIS information, post-flight data. For anybody accustomed to looking at these things, it's possible to see they're recordings from the wargames on Caprica.
Is chuckling a bit as he sees Kyle reddening and turning around after joining in, and is having even more fun when Erin joins in. He's totally in his element here. "Technology, flesh- it all comes back to the same thing man. Passing information." he says, squinting down at his merf gun before he finally clicks his new spring into place and now he's putting it all back together. "Open y'er third eye, hun. Everything's information. And it's all about passing on that information to something that can gather MORE information." Donny may have summed it up in a pretty decent manner- not that he knows it. Finally his toy gun is back together, and now he's taking a magazine out from his bag and opening up a pack of foam bullets, loading it. Donny leans a bit, looking down from his top bunk before his lips turn up into a grin. "Hey- you're good with computers and stuff?" he asks her.
"And then at some point, that robot on the table's going to ask herself: 'Is this experience worth the fact that I chose to order cheap on the menu because I didn't want to come across as demanding?'" Kyle hefts a small collection of paperback novels in one hand, then digs for another stack with a grin. Both go into her top shelf. "Frak, if the Cans really are intelligent, I hope they have feelings."
Kyle doesn't extrapolate, but with the twitch on her brow, she couldn't want them to have feelings for friendly reasons. Fear? Humiliation? Roll a die.
"My parents would kill me for writing Cylon smut. So would half the neighborhood." Kyle clears her throat and waves one of the paperback novels for Ines to see. The sharp-brow and jawline of the soldier on the cover is far sharper than the aged edges of the pages, but he seems to like the woman in the half-loosened corset on the front enough. "Welcome to the fun bunkhouse. Clearly. We're imaginitive and if you bring it back you can borrow it." Kyle tilts her head to Ines with a smirk. "Corporal Kyle Costello. Back from the dead."
Look, everyone loves a woman in a half-loosened corset. That's just science.
Erin is sitting in her bunk, which is a bottom one. She has her blankets up to her waist, and is quietly eating an apple. She has the look of someone undergoing her cycle: she is neither pleased nor angry, but in a melange of emptiness wherein the existence of anything outside of her must be crushed.
"Corporal Erin Hayes," says the littlest Marine to Ines, although it comes out of her fruit-laden mouth like "Cor-perl Erin Thayeth." Chomp, chomp, chomp goes the chirpy, bitchy auburn-haired munchkin. "Or Trash Panda. Name given to me by a dead friend."
It's not hard to tell who's new around here, small crew, and they usually arrive as Akeso does, with a duffle bag over her shoulder with all her worldly possessions packed into it. What she does lack is the wide eyes of a lost tourist, so at least space vessels aren't a brand new experience for her. She strolls in without hesitation, slowing only to eye the markings at the entrances to the various bunkrooms. She goes right by A, B, C, D and seems to be about to go by E when she backtracks two steps and stops. Trash panda? That part she might have heard. One eyebrow arches faintly.
Ines tilts her gaze up, considers the question and the man asking it. The quirk of her lips remains. "Flight computers, sure. The rest? Not especially. As much as anyone, but not enough to sell Cylons little blue pills."
It's entirely the wrong bunkroom, but she drops onto one of the seats as though she meant to be here all along: sideways, legs over the arm, back propped against the other and tablet laid against the ramp of her uniformed thighs. Settled, both brows shoot up as Kyle introduces herself. Grey-green eyes study her, but only briefly. "Oh. I heard something about that. Welcome back, Corporal." There's another short nod of greeting for Erin. "I'm Ines. I'm, ah..." She clears her throat, glances around behind herself at the hallway, and spots Akeso in the process; she, too, gets a nod. "...actually in Bunkroom C and wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
He's finished loading his merf gun, and now he's aiming down the sights and nibbling down on the tip of his tongue as he adjusts the ironsights. Once he's done, he sets it aside and he leans over to peer down at Ines, "Lance Corporal Donovan Rooper." he offers with a stiff salute before he winces and lowers his arm down. "Just call me Donny, though." he says before he's climbing down from the top of bunk 4 and pulling his bag with it as he opens up his locker and begins to stuff the rest of his belongings inside. "And that's a shame." he offers to Ines with a slow sigh, "I was hoping you'd be our break through for bombarding the toasters with penis enlargement ads. Y'know, 'Cyber Warfare' or something."
Then he's looking over towards the entranced to E Berthings, peering at Akeso with a slow blink. Then he's looking around at all the other women. The pressure is beginning to rest on him as he sloooowly stuffs away his things. "Why is everyone in the Wolves so goddamn good looking?" he asks none of them in particular and then he's huffing air full of fake frustration. "Y'er kinda a long ways from C tho, Nes." Donny says whilst looking at Ines. He's already got a shortened name for her and everything.
Kyle lobs the novel onto the table beside Ines with a slap. She takes a step back to look quickly to Erin, then back to Ines again. The grin out of the corner of her mouth is pleased, but awkward, still trying the reputation of being known for coming off of MIA for size. "Thank you, truly. Lost dogs always return home sooner or later." Kyle lifts her brows and tucks a lock of her hair behind one ear; one of those annoying locks that have spilled free from the ponytail.
"Think on the bright side, Donny." Kyle speaks up again with a brightness to her posture, sweeping past Erin to wave Akeso into the berthings. "I see Abby and Addy are sitting across from each other down there. Could be worse. You could be surrounded by good looking people and get to listen to your sibling frakkin' em." Kyle scoffs and bends back over to dig into her duffel. "Those two are gonna frakkin' regret sharing the same bunkhouse."
Yes. Trash Panda. Erin said 'trash panda'.
She looks the part at the moment: she dons a knitted, gray cap with pointed, darkened ears on her head, and a matching scarf with coloration to match that of your common raccoon. If that weren't enough, she's also eating an apple with both hands: not one-handed, like most cool kids, but with both hands. And noisily: her teeth snap off chunks of fruit into her maw, with the back molars grinding the juicy flesh into something she can swallow slowly.
"Eh, don't give Abby too much flak, hotcakes." She makes a grumbling sound. "Haven't seen much of her since Ingvar died. And Addy's still sort of shell-shocked, last time I talked to him." Erin looks out to the other rooms. "Arda and Churchy are bunked up in D. Wagner and Calhoun are in C. In case you wanted to check in with them."
Naturally, since she's looking away from the others, the raccoon Marine eyes Akeso for a second. The 'i'm lost' look is caught, so Erin tilts her head to the side and calls out to her: "You lost there?"
If there's no hissing at her from within E, Akeso takes Kyles wave as an invitation and enters. Never can be certain with trash pandas around, and marines in general. Safety first and all that. She shakes her head to the question Erin asked, "No. I'm looking for an empty rack." She explains, as she does, in fact, look for one. As she does, she offers further information, incase anyone was wondering, "I've just transfered in. I was on the Athena."
Ines tends to tamp down the corners of her mouth when a smile lingers too long. It doesn't mask the expression in the least so it's anybody's guess why she bothers, but: she does that now, flicking the Marine in the top bunk a wry look. "Are you new as well, then? Just wait until you find out how many celebrities are in the Wolves. Movie stars, pyramid stars, rock stars..." She leans, one boot lifted to keep her from falling out of the chair as she stretches an arm to snare the book on the table and drag it back. Her curiosity seems idle but genuine when she lifts it up to study the cover, one well-kept brow slowly rising. She forgets to defend her accidental arrival in E bunk entirely, or maybe just 'forgets.' %
"Chuck already apologized to me in advance about...that." Her tone is distracted, Leonese accent a little heavier. She's flipping through the pages of the book, letting them fwip past the tip of one thumb and stopping periodically to look at what's printed there, expression increasingly -- something. Concerned?
Donny is making the mistake of thinking about that thought Kyle just put in his head. There's a few expressions that fly over his face: Curiosity, discomfort, disgust, and then amusement. All in the span of a second or two. "Eck." he grunts, before he's climbing back up to the comfort of his top bunk now that all of his stuff has been put away. Once he's up there, he's grabbing his blankets and wrapping them around himself- making a hood out of it to poke his face out of. Kinda like an alien with a glowing finger- just with a less saggy face and a mustache. And y'know, human.
Donny's looking down at Akeso when Erin asks if she's lost. "If you're lookin' to saddle up in E, you're in the right spot." he says. When she mentions she's lookin' for an empty rack, he points below himself at bottom Bunk 4. "Don't think there's anyone there." he says. Then he's looking back over to Ines, "We got a lot of stars?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. "Huh. Guess I'll have to grab som autographs."
"I'm not giving Abby flak, girl. I like Abby, but she's been hiding since Ingvar?" Kyle leans back from her work to give Erin a pronounced frown-cringe. The lean is so heavy that her dog tags slip out of her tank tops and dangle brass in the air, swaying like a pendulum. "Frak, that poor girl. You know I shouldn't joke about this, but maybe I did die and came back because the amount of hurt per square foot keeps me stabbed in the feels. Don't want my people hurting."
With yoga-type flexibility, Kyle rolls up from her downwards lean towards her open locker and shuffles towards it, looking back over her shoulder to wave to Akeso and glance the faces. Her fingers twitter in a wave as she checks on Ines' expression, then whips her hair back behind her. "I'm gonna peek into the bunks later and hand out free hugs. But you know, Tablet-Girl whom I don't know the name of, if you ever get tired of the sound of Chuck and Arda slapping uglies, you could always come here and listen to the sound of people slapping uglies to the beep-boop-BOP of Yohan and his video games."
Erin makes a face at Kyle, and then finally laughs at what she says. "You're such a bitch sometimes." Headshake.
"Lots of room here," says Trash Panda, looking around. "I mean, at least -- wait." She slides out of bed and goes over to the fifth bunk in the room, and eyes the name there for a second. "Frak." And then, face-slaps herself before walking back to her bunk and flopping on it tragi-comically.
"FRAK." Sigh. "Frakkity, frak, frak, frak, FRAK." Erin, still seething, picks up her apple from the covers, and gnashes into its remaining corpus, no doubt damaging it permanently and horrifying any young apple onlookers in the audience out there.
There's a cursory wave for everyone, more just a lift of the hand, then Akeso heads straight for the rack. "Great, it's mine now." the medic says of the bunk beneath Donny's without any humming and hawing over it. She's decisive, so she has that going for her. It might almost compensate for the complete lack of fame. The dufflebag she swings off her shoulder and fires into the bunk. It hits the bulkhead with a solid thunk, and she drops in right after it with a softer impact. She lands face down and is slow to roll onto her side, but when she does get around to it she peers out at the others. Aside from breathing and blinking, she doesn't move much, but watches and listens. Acclimating through eavesdropping.
Donny looks up between Kyle and Erin at the news of losses, hiding, and loud Fraks. He's blinking slowly, but then he's reaching back and grabbing his merf gun and quietly drawing it over to hide underneath the sheets wrapped around him. "That's a lot of fraks, Panda. What gives?" Then he's lookin' down to Akeso as she takes him up on his offer of sleeping down below. "Good choice." he says, a hand reaching into the pocket of his fatigues and slipping out a rolled joint in a plastic baggy that he drops down to her. "Bunk-mate perks." he says, before he's looking to Erin again for an answer to his earlier question.
Ines does not have the look of someone for whom 'romance' fiction -- in all of its many-rated splendors -- is a familiar genre. She's far too entertained. At least once she runs across something that makes her eyes go round, the fingertips of one hand lifted to smush out whatever sudden urge to laugh follows.
Eventually, she tilts her head back, and back, and back enough that she's able to look at Akeso again, this time upside-down, the wavy tendrils of her ponytail long enough to feather the ground. "You'll settle in quickly," she guesses, voice a little strained by the arc of her throat. "Everyone's been..." Nice? Friendly? She presses her lips thin. "...Engaging."
She rights her head, and as it comes up so do the corners of her mouth, a sharply wry look shot Kyle's way. "It's Ines." Which -- she totally said, but 'being a stickler' for details is high on the list of no-nos in the 'how not to make friends' manual the Leonese are definitely issued at birth, right underneath 'cultural elitism,' 'a lasting interest in high fashion' and 'centuries of colonial domination.' Not in that order. "And thanks very much for the invitation. That depends on whether or not recon has any rhythm, I suppose. I may take you up on it."
Having just come off-duty, Aleksander was walking down the corridor that links to the various bunkrooms in the berthings section of the Dauntless when he passes by the open portal where a string of 'Fraks' came from. He had walked past the doorway without looking and is now slowly backtracking his steps, leaning slightly so he can peek in with just his head for a moment. There is a look of puzzlement and a touch of curiosity on the rifleman's expression.
"Wh-?" Kyle looks over her shoulder to Erin, perplexed. The edge of her mouth slips behind her teeth as she weighs the genuine sense of Erin's laugh at herself being a bitch. She eye-peers at the woman, eyebrows tightening in concern at her chorus of fraks. In the end, she rolls her lips fully into her mouth, then flubs them back out into place. The pin is stuck into the concern for later.
"Well, Ines, as far as that goes," Kyle clears her throat and goes down to one knee, digging civilian clothing out of her bag. Jeans, shirts, skivs, some kind of black, ropey bikini thing. They all go into the floor of her bunk with a hope and a prayer of future leave. "Recon learn extensive muscular control. People like SST snipers or urban snipers have to lay in place without moving for hours on end but still somehow keep their breathing and muscles moving to keep blood from pooling into place. This sounds nerdy as frak but..." Kyle pauses for the dramatic as she back-bends, pulling her duffel closer to her bunk. "...as far as Recon goes, you'd be amazed the muscles we use to safely climb over rocks, garbage, and spider nests to get the job done." Even from behind, the lift of Kyle's cheek is evident. The grin? Shit eating. "We always get the job done."
Sigh. Erin rolls over to reach under her bunk for a plastic bag, into which she deposits the corpse of her apple, its flesh shorn off and its carcass finding a final resting place in what will later be emptied into the nearest trash receptable before bedtime. Then, she rolls onto her back again, and puts her hands over her eyes and forehead.
"Donny, you're out of your element." Grumble. "It's just a private thing, okay? Something I frakked up, so just let it go, all right? Go play with your Merf gun."
From her tone, her posture, and the fact that she's not wearing any pants, it's clear that Erin doesn't want to answer any more questions as to why she suddenly burst into a string of epithets, amusing as it was. Feeling melodramatic and internally miserable means casual nudity is A-OK!
Akeso reaches out and catches the baggie, bringing it up to her nose for a sniff as Ines is talking to her. She kinda stares at the pilot the entire time, not rudely, exactly, but without any overwhelmingly obvious emotion on her face. Just smooth and chill, with a hint of curiousity. There's a nod for her and a wan, but mostly polite smile. It's the same smile, if more subdued that she keeps wearing as she looks across at the frak spewing Erin, Kyle with her talk of muscle control and finally up at her blanket wrapped new bunkmate. "Thanks. Yell next time you're wounded and I'll patch you up extra nice." She offers, obviously having not brought gifts. "You're all recon?" She'll then prompt.
Smells like good ol' sticky marijuana.
"Kay." is all he really says in response to Erin. Just nice and simple acknowledgement. But the mention of his Merf gun has him grinning as his eyes peer over to Aleksander as he peers inside. Now he's throwing off his sheets to let them slump back onto his bunk bed and now he's setting up the plastic tripod to aim his merf gun at him. "Ain't no cigs here for you to snatch, par'ner." he offers to him with a lopsided smirk. Then he's looking over to nod in agreement with Kyle, "Hoo-frakkin'-ah, we do. Recon leads th' way." Then Donny's looking back down to Akeso. "I'm recon n' proud." he offers to her.
After not seeing objects flying or being thrown around, the multiple 'Fraks' appear to be an isolated incident and Aleksander was about to continue on until he does a count in this particular berthings. The Tauran's gaze finally falls on Donny and shakes his head slightly, as if feeling a touch bad for the other Marine. Once more, there is a brief hesitation that holds the rifleman back before he calls out to the Lance Corporal, "Rooper, you okay in there? Looks like..." His words trail off when the Merf weaponary is aimed in his direction, "Hey now, I don't raid other people's bunks for cigarettes. I buy my own, it's Tomak that always bums a smoke off of me."
The duffel gets stuffed and Kyle rattles her locker closed. Brushing her hands off on her knees, she turns to peer at Aleksander with the same casual scrutiny she's usually given the man. "Hey, Davion, long time no see." Kyle up-chins his way then drops to sit on the edge of Erin's bunk. She plucks her tags and drops them back into her tank, then looks out to Akeso. "Donny, Erin, and myself are all Recon. The only three in the bunkhouse. I don't know who Harte is, but looks like we're sharing the house with some Air." Kyle offers to the woman with a friendly smile. "You a doc? I'm Kyle Costello."
Kyle leans back, eyes out and social, but lowers her hand around Erin's ankle to squeeze and brush a thumb against the knobby ankle bone she finds there. A silent show of support for her...whatever-it-is.
Erin remains in her bunk for a few more seconds before suddenly taking her ankle from Kyle's hand, and rising. "I need to hit something." Then, she yanks her locker open, and pulls out a pair of shorts, which she literally bunny hops into.
She's not exactly specific regarding what or who she needs to hit. She pulls on socks, and then a pair of ratty old sneakers. Chances are, she's either going to stalk someone in the halls to beat up, or she's heading to the close quarters arena to hit some dummies.
She doesn't say more, although, as she changes, she just sort of eyes Kyle. Apologetically, really, but she looks a tad bit spooked and/or chagrinned.
Well in that case, the baggie is slipped under Akeso's pillow. Maybe she's got the idea that Aleks might be a dirty joint thief too, even if he does deny the cigarette pilfering while she's idly checking him out from her new home in the bunk beneath Donny's. "Medic." She nods back to Kyle after carefully putting faces to the names that she gives. "I'm Akeso, and don't mind me. I'm just going to sleep for the next twelve hours." Starting soonish, apparently, because she puts her feet up on her bag and turns over onto her back, half closing her eyes.
Donny pauses, his lips twisting off to the side thoughtfully for a moment before he lowers the merf gun and lets it barrel aim skyward. "Alright. Fair enough." he says before he leans to prop himself up by his right arm. "I'm doin' good. Just... Outnumbered." he says, his eyes scanning over the rest of Berthing E to look at all the women. Then he's looking back to Aleksander, "I'll probably survive, though.". When more introductions are going out, he's leaning a bit to look down at the gal below him. "Donovan Rooper. Just call me Donny tho- it has a better ring to it." Then he's looking around a bit, before he squints and a yawn escapes him- which he tries to cover with a hand. "Well!" he says, lying back and pulling his sheets over him lazily, setting his merf gun aside. "I'm passin' out. Keep it good, wolves."
Ines has a steady simmer of amusement going, fuelled by Kyle's roundabout riposte. Nothing to add on top of that, though, and her gaze drops eventually to the tablet in her lap, its recreation of the Caprican wargames flight still playing out in endless loop. It ticks up again just once, when Akeso asks her question. She shakes her head. "Air wing. But I'm just..." Pause. "Visiting." Her eyes drop again. "It's mostly marines in my bunkroom as well. Tomak -- " Emphasized because she can hear Aleksander in the background, and heard the name in passing, " -- isn't sure I'll be able to stick it out."
All of the fraks, lack of pants, and general need to commit casual violence wash over her without remark, and maybe only a grace note of sympathy. This is, as far as she's concerned, pretty normal bunk fare.
Yoink! Kyle's hand is un-ankled rather quickly, spuring a look of concern from the sniper as Erin half-asses over to her locker. Kyle flops her hands into her lap and wrings them, at least until she's rubbing at the back of her neck and cringing towards Erin at the look she's been given. When Erin finally goes, it's with a puffed out sigh from Kyle.
"Yeah, Akeso, Donny, I'll be awake for a bit if you need anything." Kyle calls out to the others and swivels her gaze to Ines. Brows up! Wide eyes beam to the woman in her own level of confusion, or perhaps, apology. "We're a lively bunch." Kyle offers. "But, all things considered, you should keep visiting, or link up with some of us for lunch or PT. Frak all knows I've only got a couple of actual friends on board for this cruise." Kyle points towards the woman in her chair. She points dramatically, then lowers it. "Tomak or no Tomak, whoever that is."
Erin puts her hat and scarf into her locker carefully. She sets the hat in the top area, and then folds up and places her scarf atop it. That's where those two items go, like they were her most treasured possessions.
Casual nudity is also bunk fare. The team's smallest Marine -- this has been checked and verified -- may look cute, but the brief glimpse of her back shows exit wounds and scars befitting a woman that's seen her share of action and had her share of recovery time. Chances are, the Trash Panda, like her name-sake, is a vicious little creature in a scrap. Though she be little, she be fierce.
Support on, Erin pulls her tank top back over her head. She looks to where Kyle is, and says, "I'll see if I can't sneak some coffee from the Mess." Sounds like a promise there, but that mood. It's like a emo-cloud of angst that threatens to wash away the ashen remains of her heart. It's like rain on her wedding day: suckingly not ironic.
Bunk fare. Drama bunk fare. Cue the Dawson's Creek soundtrack.
Then, ready for the gym, Erin stomps on out.
"Costello, glad to see you're still alive." Aleksander says as he inclines his head back to Kyle in response to her greeting, cordial enough for Caprican, probably because she is in the Colonial Forces, or she was possibly the reason why they received some interesting care packages. Then his gaze falls on the new arrival, especially when she identifies as a medic, always a good idea to make friends with medics in the squad. Then Davion looks back to Donny and smirks in amusement, "Yeah, well if you feel a need to escape to a safer haven, feel free to duck into Bunkroom C. Tomak and I are there." When Ines mentions that Tomak mentioned that she may not be able to stick it out, Aleksander can only keep an innocent expression on since he may have been the one that said that at the time.
"I need a shoulder rub and a forty eight hour pass." Akeso says, but she sounds as if she's got no hope of either occuring any time soon. She cracks one eye though, watching Erin stomp off and then Aleksander linger. As for Ines, there's a bit of a face made, before she says, "He probably thinks you're a lavette. You'll need to wrestle him to assert dominance."
While Kyle's invitation may have been made half in jest, the response it gets from Ines is anything but. She lifts her eyes and shoots the marine a smile wide enough to flash teeth, all sunshine. "Thanks. I'm still getting to know everyone, myself. Good to know I may not have to eat in the mess hall alone. Traumatizing flashbacks to gradeschool." The wink she appends probably suggests she never had any such traumatizing experience, in gradeschool or otherwise.
Akeso's remark does one better: it gets a full laugh out of her, distilled surprise followed with sharp, even darkling humor. "Oh, I hope he does. He'll learn. ...probably...not through wrestling, though."
"For now, far be it from me to keep people from rack time, hm?" Gradually, she peels herself out of the chair she's sitting in wholly the wrong way, back to her feet, tablet in hand and temporarily darkened to standby. "It was good meeting you all, though." With one short wave, she takes two steps backward toward the corridor, and then slips out into it, twisting to move past Aleksander, who gets a wink in passing.
"I'll see you down there, Ines." Kyle grins mirthfully as her chin drops. Once again, she digs her fingertips under her ponytail to rub the stress out of the back of her neck. "I have a habit of bringing the cool kids table with me wherever I go. We'll just start a new one up to keep the little deck nerds away from." Kyle grins, catching her lip with her tooth, and winks towards the woman's back.
And then... "Frak."
Kyle stretches to her full height and shoves a box onto her bunk above Erin's. She climbs onto the ladder to give the bedding a quick once-over, then drops to the slip-proof, rubberized floor runner with a clap of her heels. "As much as I'd like to stay and catch up, Aleks, I think I need to go and make sure Erin doesn't punch something with a liveable salary." Kyle's ponytail bobs as she walks to the hatch with a purpose. She taps the wall between Donny and Akeso's bunks affectionately, then shoulders past the broad Tauron into the hallway...and gone.
At the mention of a shoulder rub and forty eight hour pass by the newly arrived medic, Aleksander can't help but laugh in amusement, "Yeah, you kind of missed the bussed there. Could've probably gotten it back when we were on Caprica. Now, we're headed to where it is the opposite of a spa and you /wouldn't/ want a forty-eight hour pass there." When Akeso passes by, the Tauran inclines his head towards her and finally offers his welcome, "Welcome to the squad." The wink is answered with an arched brow, a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Then his attention is on the Caprican who says she is heading out as well, "No worries, Costello, I have to head back to my own bunkroom, was passing by when I heard multiple 'Fraks' being said."
"Thanks." Akeso answers, peering out at the Tauran still, if only with one eye open. She eventually closes that one too, the twitch at the corner of her mouth turning into a very amused smile, "I'm sure you'll come to love and appreciate my home colony in the coming days or weeks. It's really nice if you don't get your head shot off." She puts her arm over her eyes then, blocking the light out while still smiling.
When it is mentioned that Sagittaron is Akeso's home colony, Aleksander realizes he may have unintentionally stepped on a landmine as he looks a touch embarrassed, "Err... I am sure I will be able to see it in a different light. And I'm usually pretty good with keep my head on my shoulders." The Tauran definitely doesn't want any needles stuck into him extra hard or in the wrong place in the near future, "I should probably let you get settled in."
Well, if she was seriously offended, Akeso gets over it quickly. Not that she laughs or anything, but she's still smiling up at the bunk above her, even if her tone is very, very dry, "Good, because they're very difficult to reattach in the field." There's a beat or two, like she's going to leave the conversation at that, but she adds, "Wake me up when we get there."
There's a smirk when Akeso asks for a morning call and Aleksander shakes his head, "Would you like a continental breakfast served as well?" When he pushes off of the door frame, he gives her a wave, "I'm sure things will become pretty fun around here again." With that said, he heads to his own bunkroom.