2237-10-15 - The Mysterious Photo Of Mystery

A mysterious photograph demands investigation. No underwear eating rodents can keep the intrepid gang of C bunk from finding the truth!

Date: 2237-10-15

Location: Berthings

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1490

Jump to End

After a long shift of flying taxi, Irene can be found still in her flightsuit - partly. She's shucked herself like an ear of corn to the waist and is sitting on the long center bench in C with her head down and her hand massaging the back of her neck. Must have been a long, long shift. Slowly, she pulls her one arm free of the sleeve it's still stuck in from the elbow down and gets vaguely irritated when it turns into a tired person struggle that involves both hands and some tugging. Stupid suit!

Faye is headed in not long after, gray off-duty sweats and the look of just having finished up a workout with the zipper open and the bottom hanging. Her eyes fall down toward the woman struggling and she gives a half-smile, "Hey, Iris, lemme help. Long days, right?" An arch of her brows as she speeds up her approach to reach for the suit sleeves.

"It's uncooperative." Irene explains, lifting the stuck sleeve arm so that she can be liberated from the horrible torture of the thing. As she does she points at the cuff that seems to be the source of her vexation, explaining with a funny earnestness despite being absolutely, totally facetious, "I think it's been sabotaged... by Sagittarons." She doesn't get around to saying why they would bother, but yawns instead, burying her mouth behind her free hand so as to not be offensively rude.

"No." Faye says as she looks it over. Her head turning this way and that. She gives a quick glance around to make sure no one is around and leans in conspiratorially.
"I think it was Librans." A quick attempt to kiss her cheek then she'll lean back out and resume the work on the cuff, finding that it was one of the seals that was just stickier than usual. A jar this way, a jar that with a bit of him and arm motion and the clasp snaps full open to allow the cuff to be pulled off more easily. She'll continue to hold the arm till Irene pulls out of it though.

"Sneaky Librans, always pretending to be neutral and then kissing people when they least suspect it." Irene grumbles, tilting cheek up to make for easy kissing. After, when the clasp is dealt with, she wriggles her arm clear and looks much pleased. There's a loud, satisfied sigh from the blonde as she sets her hands behind her on the bench and leans back into them rather than continue disrobing. The bottom half of the suit stays on. One boot stays on too, the other tucked neatly under bench already. The sleeve thing must have distracted her. Faye keeps her distracted too. She stares at her, brow slowly arching upwards as if she suspects the other pilot of something, or expects her to do something that she hasn't yet done.

There's a laugh as she staring back toward her, a tilt of her head to send the black hair swaying. She shucks the sweater top she has and then looks down toward the boot. "How was the taxi work anyway?" She reaches down to try and help the other with her boot then. Even if it's stinky! OH SO STINKY!

Irene flails her hands in a vaguely warding fashion, like she's a big person she can do boots by herself! Geez. Apparently that wasn't what she was expectantly expecting of Bingo, anyway. Not at all. "I got it!" They were untied already, so all she actually had to do was put toe to heel and pop her foot out. Ta da. She slides it in under the bench alongside its mate and straightens again, with an answer to the question. A really long, pleasantly rambling one, "It was so much fun. Wooley got upset with one of the marines and threatened to space them before we even got to the upper atmosphere, and then he was being all sulky about it the rest of the trip after I told him he couldn't just throw people out of the bus. Then one of them dropped a supply box on the wing on the way out and threw the schedule right off and the viper escort got all testy about it and I spilled my water so my seat was all squishy... So how was your day, honey?"

Faye gives a laugh as the boot was taken off without her help. She gives a smile and darts her eyes down and to the side. She looks back up and over toward the Raptor pilot next to her. She raises an eyebrow as she listens to her day and gives a wince, then a gasp, another wince and a raise of her hand up to cover her mouth. "Oh no."
Then the story was finished, she leans over and puts her head on the other woman's shoulder, wrapping an arm about her middle. "Well, the CAP went fine, then I went for a run and I came back to see the most amazing person just sitting down in our bunk." A look over toward her, resting her chin on the other's shoulder.
"What can I do for you to make your day better?"

"Let's go pressure test flightsuits for Walsh." Irene answers, as she leans into the Libran hard enough that should she move even a little, she'd probably fall off the bench. She's being slightly sarcastic, of course, because that wasn't actually any fun at all. "Or, wait, we should prank Wooley. No. Then he'll just be sulkier on the next flight. Do you need a co-pilot? He might fit, if we jam him in behind your seat."

Faye smiles widely and then shakes her head, "I fear the seats won't shift far enough forward to really get Wooley in." She tilts her head to the side again and then sits up a little straight so Irene can lean instead. A plant of her hands behind herself.
"We can go do some more soap? Would that make you happy?"

There's a mild, one shouldered shrug from Irene, so she's apparently not too keen on more soaps. "I'm already happy. I'm like condensed sparkles and joy." She says, flatly, but she does eventually smile once there's no chance of ruining the delivery with it. After that, she squeeze hugs Faye's arm tightly and promptly jumps up to walk out of her suit and over to her locker to find something more comfortable. It'll probably be either green or blue, or grey. The choices are kind of limited here. "So, for some reason I have a photo of Ines. I think Tomak stuck it there."

A snerk of laughter from Faye as she looks to the other. A roll of her eyes as she sees her stand up and over toward the locker. Faye stands up then and heads toward her own to fetch her shower stuff, she didn't want to stay in the workout attire after all - but gotta shower up first! "Huh, that's strange." Faye says with a furrow of her brows, "Why on early would they give you a photo of Ines? Well, either way, want me to take a new one? It's been a while."

For all her randomness in some things, Irene is very, very organized when it comes to her kit. It's like she expects, at any moment, a superior officer to jump out of hiding and demand to know why her uniforms aren't pressed properly or her bed sheets are wrinkled. This particularness can be seen in her locker, with the neatly folded and stacks of clothing within. With her shift well over, she picks out sweats and chatters away amiably as she puts them on, "It is strange. I'll ask them about it later. Either they're really getting along, or they're doing the opposite of that. Have you heard any strange grunting from that direction?" As her head pops out of her top's neckhole she glances towards Gage and Ines' rack and narrows her eyes, as though she's trying to sift through her own memories for one of suspicious grunts in the night.

It's time for Faye to cast her eyes over in the direction of the rack now, and she tilts her head as she takes a slow step in the direction of the beds. She pulls up short though with her hand still held out as if she might pull the curtain aside before whispering, "If someone is in there, we run like heck, right? Or do we snap photos? I don't remember which." She looks back at Irene and gives her a smile before the hand drops down and she turns about.
"But, no, I can't say I have. Then again, I'm a really heavy sleeper. Have you?" A quirk of an eyebrow.

"Photos and then run." Irene confirms as she scoops up her discarded flightsuit and begins to quickly and neatly fold it on the bench. She watches Faye all the while, eye daring her to open the curtain and see what the deal is. As for grunting? There's a slow shake of her head in the negative. "Maybe they're very quiet."

A laugh as she looks back over toward the bunk, turning around again and starting to inch back in the direction of the bunk. She motions at Irene to get the camera ready as she wiggles her eyebrows. A stealthy move to the side of the bunk. Time to see if there are people gettin' it on! Faye's hand reaches up carefully, trying to make as little noise as she can and not even breathing too loudly.
A free hand held up, counting down. Three digits, 2 little piggies, 1 second. AND SHE YANKS THE BUNK OPEN!

Well, Irene lost her camera during that bar brawl back at Caprica City, so she's reduced to making an imaginary one. It's just as well, because there's nobody in the bunk, unless they're imaginary too. She clicks the nonexistent shutter button and takes the shot anyway. She'll imagine getting it developed later. For now, disappointment. "Nothing. Our neighbors aren't very exciting, Bingo. It's almost like they're, I don't know, professionals." There's a faint sigh as she promptly forgets she was holding an invisible camera and just picks up her folded flight suit. That'll go in the locker with her boots soon enough.

Another guard shift over at a Tyllium mine, minus the trespassing of Centurions or insurgents that use to always try to blow up mine entrances. So it was just mainly standing around under the hot sun until it started to set. Luckily, the boredom was alleviated by a few cigarettes and another Marine that was in the Legionnaire to talk with so time eventually passed for Aleksander. Returning to the Dauntless, the Tauran makes his way back to the berthings only to spy two pilots who are apparently up to no good. Slowly his booted steps to a stop, he arches a brow and watches in silence, a slightly perplexed look on his face.

Maaaaan! Faye sighs and looks over toward Irene with a frown, "Yeah, it looks like they're professionals." She leans up, looking into the bunk, any chocolate at least? Or... anything fun? She peers one side to the other, but it seems that she was going to strike out on this recon. Not even a chocolate bar to be had.
"Well, Frak." She says as she drops back down and turns to see another person who's walking into the room. She freezes mid step, because... you know, Marines can't see it if it's not moving. Right? She's pretty sure that's how it works. Her tones are more hushed.
"Iris! Don't move. They can't see you if you don't move!"

Well, Irene would have just been ate by a T-Rex if that was a real warning, since she freaking moves. She can't stop herself from turning to look out towards the thing she's not supposed to look at. Luckily, it's just Aleksander. "Oh. Hello." She offers lamely, hugging her folded up flightsuit to her chest. "We thought there was a rodent in there, eating Tomak's underwear." Yes, that's exactly what it was. Good save, Iris. Good save.

Unfortunately this Marine can see very well as his eyes watch Faye for a moment as she freezes in mid-motion, the perplexed look growing more perplexed at her antics. At her words though, he can only release a sigh and shake his head slightly, either in disbelief or resignation. Giving a half enthusiastic wave to Irene, Aleksander heads towards his bunk, "A rodent... eating Tomak's underwear..." A pause there, the Tauran giving her the look that shows he doesn't buy one word of her excuse, "Right." Sitting down on the bench, he begins working on the laces of his boots, "So you two either lost somthing, or are just /very/ bored."

"Yes?" Faye answers in relation to the comment/question. Then she gestures at Irene, "What Iris said!" She says with a slow start to her movements as she heads toward the locker. She pauses in front of her own, it's reasonably well organized - though not Irene levels. A pull out of extra off-duty clothes, the non one-piece variety, before she glances over to Aleks again.
"But-" she glances to them both, "-if you excuse me, I need to skedaddle and clean up." Another glance at Irene, "Man, you keep that locker so sharp."

She does. She may be a terrible awful liar, but Irene sure does keep a neat locker. It's amazing. She tucks her flightsuit in to its designated spot and shuts the door. When she turns, she's smiling, "We were actually trying to solve a mystery." She admits, very quietly, with dramatic shifty eyes to make it seem even more top secret-y. A finger is held up, like she needs a moment more to fully explain and takes it to instead roll herself into the bottom bunk, the one with all the photos of Faye all over the bulkhead. "I found something. A photo."

When Faye makes her retreat, Aleksander gives her a brief wave before he pulls off his combat boots, a sigh of relief released as he does so. Rising to his feet, he opens his own locker and puts the pair of boots in front of it for now as he starts working on the crumpled combat fatigues he had on while on guard duty, no doubt having been invaded with grains of sand and dirt. It appears that even though the Tauran can be considered lazy and hard to motivate, he does keep a clean locker as well, the training to do so ingrained into him from the Legionnaire training. When Irene begins to explain further what the pair of them were doing in the berthings, Aleksander glances over in her direction, "A mystery? What was the photo of?" He can't help but ask out of curiosity.

Irene doesn't even need to describe it, she produces it from some hidden spot when the Tauran has his nose in his locker and holds it up and out. It's not a particularly mysterious photo, it's just one of Ines looking angry, but lying on the floor of the bunkroom looking up at the photographer. "I think Tomak took it and for some reason put it on my wall. The mystery is... why. What do you think?" Inquiring Virgons want to know!

Instead of pulling his fatigue top off when he finishes unbuttoning, Aleksander only empties his pockets and puts his personal items into the locker before looking back to Irene who has pulled out a photo. Ines he recognizes but doesn't know personally, but the Tauran can't help but rumble in amusement at the angry expression, "Tomak? Why do you think he took it? They are bunkmates..." As he says that, Davion's eyes drift over to the bunk that Gage and Ines shares, "Hmmm."

"That's why we were investigating." Irene explains in a loud whisper and a nod towards the suspicious bunk Faye had been peeking into. So, maybe it wasn't about mice eating Tomak's skivvies. Who would have guessed? She turns the photo towards her an examines it, but there's not any obvious clues there. Nothing she hasn't noticed before at any rate. "Kestrel and Tomak. Tomak and Kestrel..." She says aloud, but softly, obviously trying to rack her brain for some explanation. "Is it... flirting? Are they flirting?"

Another thoughtful sound is made by Aleksander as he looks at his Tauran brother's bunk for a moment longer before turning back to his own, pulling off his unbuttoned fatigues, then stuffing it into his mesh laundry bag. "Flirting... well, if it /was/ him taking the picture, he appears to be doing a bad job. She's not blushing, in that picture, Kestrel looks like she wanted to punch the person taking the picture." There is a shake of head again from Davion, trying to determine if there is indeed anything to puzzle out. "I could ask him directly... though I am sure I would get a firm denial, whether it is true or not."

Irene screws her mouth to one side with a puffed up cheek, concentrating. Brow furrow is at maximum. Then, it all comes together in her head. The pieces of the puzzle align and she sees the big picture. "That proves it was Tomak who took the picture. He knows how to make people want to punch him." There's a nod, one final look at the photo and then she vanishes it. "Still not sure why I have it. If you see him, ask. I've been wanting to, but it's been so busy and he hasn't taken a ride in the bus lately."

"Hah!" Aleksander can't help but laugh out loud after hearing that, "You do have a point, if he wants to irritate someone, he really knows how to dig under their skin. But why her..." As for asking him, the Tauran nods his head, "I will next time I see him, or if we're stuck guarding another damned mine down on the planet." There is a pause before he adds, "He probably won't talk to you on the bus about it, since there are others in the squad. I'll bribe him with cigarettes."

"Oh, that's true. You'll have to solve the mystery for me." Irene concedes, rolling over onto her back and putting her feet up against the bottom of the bunk overhead. It won't bother Faye much, since she's not up there. "Hey, have you guys not destroyed any more AA sites? I've been keeping a tally so I know how much beer to get, but I don't care about mines so guard duty doesn't count."

Realizing that the answer is being pushed on him unexpectantly, Aleksander furrows his brows into a frown, "Well... I could solve the mystery for you. But what's in it for me? I could just find out the answer and be amused for myself." He says with a grin, feeling pleased with himself that he could have some vital information that he could lord over Irene with. As for her question about AA sites, Davion arches a brow, "Tomak didn't tell you? We took one out when we rescued our people, after Rhodes made her escape. He said something about you owing him like a million cubits for each SAM battery he takes out."

"That's extremely mercenary of you." Irene notes, but without strong enough inflection either way to suggest whether she thinks that's a good or bad thing in itself. "What do you want for this intelligence, assuming you have the skill to get it?" Then the rest, she's happy at first and then aghast. "Oh, and I think you're mistaken. I don't owe him, he owes me and each battery reduces the sum of his debt. It's very fair, since I don't think he'd ever square those three hundred and fifty million cubits otherwise. Which is sort of sad, because I wanted my own battlestar." Yup. It's good for a person to have goals in life.

The accusation doesn't cause Aleksander to frown, he only widens his grin. When Irene inquires what he wants though, that surprises him, as he wasn't expecting to be so agreeable, "Hmm... I guess it will depend on the answer. I'll let you know when I find out. If it turns out to be something /very/ interesting, it's going to cost you. And I have to skills to do anything, Harris, it's only if I want to do it or not." He says with absolute confidence. As for his Tauran brother being in debt, Aleksander can only widen his eyes, "Three-hundred and fifty million cubit debt? To you?"

Irene laces her fingers behind her head and idly tries to 'walk' on the bottom of the bunk overhead. She glances aside at Aleksander from time to time, smiling like a little ray of sunshine over there. "That's fair, I suppose, and that's why I'm entrusting you with this mission, Davion. You have the skills, you have the motivation and you have the connections. You also know that I am, or will be fabulously rich and will compensate you accordingly." So it all works out. As for the debt, she laughs softly and nods. "He does, but I suppose it's down to three hundred and forty one now. I'd have to check my records."

With an expression that shows that he is seriously considering what Irene just said, Aleksander finally begins to nod his head approvingly, "Very well, I shall accept your request and find out what the answer is next time I get the chance." Tapping his chin, he nods one final time as if that is a done deal now and goes back to what he was doing before, peeling himself out of his dirty clothes and getting ready to go clean up. Pulling off the tank top, he shoves it into the mesh laundry bag before he begins working on his belt, "What about Heavy Raiders? The AA battery that Tomak blew up also took down one of those heavies in the air. He should get an extra reduction from his debt for that."

Done deal. Irene nods right back, solemnly. Then there's the question of whether heavy raiders count. She has to consider that, talking it out as she does, "That is helpful, but outside the scope of our arrangement. It's totally worth extra beer though. The heavies are the worst." So she settles on extra beer. She drops her feet at the same time, stretches out her legs and crosses her ankles to watch her toes wiggle. "Would you guys prefer Tauran beer? I'm not sure if people liked that fancy Virgon ale I managed to find last time."

"Tauran beer is nice... though I enjoy Leonese drinks as well." Aleksander says as he pulls his belt from notches around his trousers, moving to store it in his locker, "Got use to it during my time at the Foreign Legion. More of a personal preferrance though. I'm sure Tomak would enjoy Tauran beer if you can acquire some." Then he returns to the bench and takes a seat again, pulling off his socks, "And you are right, heavies are the worst. Not only do they pack heavy firepower, they can drop bombs and disgorge a squad of those damned toasters. Worst of the worst."

Irene watches her toes as they transition from wiggle-stretching to air tapping to a beat in her head. "I'll see what I can find. You guys might have to pretend it's the beer you like most. I'll just take the labels off to make it easier." That's beer covered, but not the heavies. "They also have missiles. I hate them so much." A yawn then, that she hides by turning her head towards the wall for a second or two. "What a crazy war to have."

"You don't have to worry about that, Harris. Beer is beer, better to have beer than no beer." Aleksander says with a slight wave of his hand as if to say it is no big deal. "Luckily we have the Raptors that you fly, they're like heavies I guess. I bet the toasters hate them as much as we have the heavies." With the socks stuffed into the laundry bag, Davion pulls up the bed to get into the storage area of his clothes, picking out a set of clean ones and a towel. Then he goes to grab his showering kit, "Crazy war indeed. Guarding mines and getting dirt and sand all over me. Almost makes me wish to be back on Caprica... /almost/."

"Dirt and sand bother you?" Irene asks, laughing a little as if she can't imagine it. Still, that mention and him grabbing his shower bag prompts her to sniff at herself. That was a long day in a flightsuit she just had. "I'd think there'd be worse things down there on the ground. Bugs? Crazy exes?" Definitely badder stuff in her mind. She's probably still thinking when she swings her legs out of her bunk, grabs her kit and pops up. "At least the air is fresh? Imagine being cooped up in a flying box for hours at a time. You're lucky, Davion."

There a scowl at the mention of dirt and sand, "It's a bother, a small one, but still a bother, like an itch you can't reach." As for bugs and crazy exes, he laughs and shakes his head, "Bugs can keep you from starving if you run out of rations, stuck behind enemy lines. Crazy exes... luckily I didn't pick up any of those while in the Legion." Before signing up to the Foreign Legion, that goes unmentioned. Heading to the doorway of their bunkroom, Aleksander looks back and waits for Irene to catch up, "Eh... I guess I am, I can't imagine being stuck in a Raptor for that long. Or worse, a Viper. At least you have someone to talk to and some room to move around. One of those small fighters? Looks like a flying coffin."

Irene doesn't rush, but she doesn't dillydally either. She goes at her own speed. Her hand goes through the string loop handle of her shower bag and when it's swinging from her wrist she strolls out after. "Well, you start to feel like you're the same thing. You're just a viper, or a raptor rather than a person stuck in one. You have the whole sky and space to move around in." She shrugs a little, smiles and double times the last few steps to catch up to Aleks. "Anyway, let's de-itch ourselves. You have a mystery to solve."


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