Sunny takes requests, but can't always fill them.
Location: The Ship and Castle
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1592
Back again? So soon? It's not like Yelena's the only one. However, today, she's off-off. Not just sipping into town after work, as it were. No, she had a full day away from base that she took to explore Conway. There was a bit of shopping, but really only for the necessities. After those were stowed away and she took some time enjoying solitude in the room (after all, she has two roommates rather than just one), the doc returned to take up residence at the pub. She's tucked into one of the lower tables, back to the wall. Reznik's in a pair of jeans, a long-sleeve, thermal shirt, and her bomber-style, Timber Wolf-branded jacket's hung on a hook at the end of the booth. She's already halfway into a pitcher and simply enjoying the music piped into the bar as she reads a well-worn novel, feet kicked up on the bench itself.
Like a hot knife through butter, Sunny cuts into the mundane gloom of a pub with her own brand of addictive cheeriness. She pushes the door open, and hums quietly to herself. Why? Maybe she's trying to stay in tune: she's got a guitar slung over her shoulder, and there's an empty stage and mic stand ready.
But she doesn't head straight there to caterwaul; rather Sunny takes the time to stop by the bar, and order herself up something. "It's so nippy out there! Something, I don't know -- hot? -- no, spicy, like, you know, spiced rum, or whiskey, or whatever," she tells the bartender with a smile on her face. "Your choice? Your choice, that's fine with me."
A split-second later, and the Marine spies Yelena down the bar, not far away. "Doctor Reznik?" Being a medic, she's probably spied Yelena a few times when she's allowed to handle some of the shittier jobs in the clinic, like inventory and bedpan-changing. "Hi! I'm Corporal Day, I'm -- I work as a hand, sometimes, in the clinic? To keep my skills up and all."
It takes Yelena a moment to look up -- likely to finish the paragraph she's on -- but look up she does. Sunny doesn't immediately register and when she does, it's probably not for the clinic. The Tauran doctor dog-ears the page she's on and tosses the book down on the table. It's some classical novel from Tauron; one of those tragedies full of love lost, death, and families rent apart by political dissent. Of course. She picks up her beer and takes a drink before pointing with an index finger extended away from the glass at the other woman. "The blue drinks." Finally recalling just where she recalls the medic from. Another sip. "Need something? I'm not back in 'til tomorrow night." The late shift. Joy.
"Need?" Beat. "Oh, no, not need -- I don't need something." Another moment passes, so Sunny puts on a smile -- a grin -- to cover her awkwardness. "I mean, not really. I need a drink; I want one, at least. But need?" Tsk. "No, Doc, I'm okay. Just thought I'd say hello. Oh, maybe -- actually -- "
Sunny takes a couple of steps closer.
" -- I'm not on shift tomorrow night, but if you need any assist." Sunny pats her chest, and then grins. "I'm available, if you need something? I'm finding that keeping busy is, like, keeping me from feeling the cold that's sinking in, you know what I mean?" She snorts, and then laughs. "Why can't we find ourselves in a nice, peaceful, warm place, right?" More laughter. Nervous, tittering laughter. "Ah, oh well."
Another topic. "I'm going to, ah -- go up there, play a bit, sing a bit, and not annoy other people in the base, so -- if you've any requeeeests."
"I see." It's a simple statement and Yelena blinks slowly to cover her uncertainty in how to really respond. She lifts her glass for a long drink, draining a good bit of what remains. "No, take the night off. Rest when you can get it. War's shit." The words come in that blunt, clipped Tauran style. "There's plenty assigned." She shifts, dropping booted feet to the floor as she reaches to refill her glass from the waiting pitcher. The only tattoo really visible, since she's in long-sleeves and her hair is down, is the Ha'la'tha sun on the back of her hand as she pours. "I don't mind the cold," Lena comments, simply. "Might be a bit harsh at night, but-" She shrugs. "No requests unless-" her brow furrows as she thinks. "Do you know this... it's this one song, called Constellations? I'm sure there's plenty with the same title, though." So many colonies and all.
Sunny squints at Yelena, and has to ask. "Is it Tauran?" Because Tauran music's kind of nifty. All music from that part of the universe is. "I think I've heard of it. Or heard it once or twice, at least, when I was on Tauron." She closes her eyes for a second. "It's not coming to me quick, so I probably haven't heard it." And she opens her eyes again. "But when I find it? I can play it."
"Guess I just like working. Keeping my hands busy." Sunny's drink arrives, and she reaches out absently for it. "Marines usually just lift weights, work out, and beat each other up, but -- " She laughs. " -- that's not really me."
She takes back her shot of whatever, and she winces when she brings her glass down. "Holey-moley, I wasn't expecting that -- whoosh!" Sunny waves a hand in front of her mouth. "Oh my goodness, wooo. That burns the lips."
"Yeah," Yelena says, leaning back with her refilled glass. "It's Tauran." She takes a sip, clearing her throat: "It was just another night / with a sunrise / and a moonrise not so far behind." At least it's a slow song, so her butchering doesn't come out too terribly, but she looks mildly embarrassed nonetheless and drowns it in more beer. "Should find another hobby. Work too much, you'll burn yourself the frak out. War's a bad time for that." And yet...
"Should take it easy," Reznik warns, smirking briefly. She lifts her glass. "Always go with beer or wine unless you're trying to get frakked up."
Sunny blinks. "But I don't want another hobby." Beat. "I mean, being a nurse is what I've always wanted to do. And regulations don't really allow me to do that fully on board the ship, so -- " Shrug. Wide smile. " -- that's why I like taking a few more shifts than usual for a medic."
"The physical regulations aren't so bad for Marines, but I'm just not for the ol' 'ooh-rah, yeah, let's frak 'em all up' sort of testosterone sloshing." Her smile becomes a grin. "So, I've got my guitar, and my music, but that's not exactly something you can practice and play among the hard-fighting, hard-farting elite-of-the-elite that I get to rub shoulders, butts, and boobs with on the regular."
"So, drinking? Occasionally." Sunny sighs. "Hard stuff reminds me of my friends from back on Aerilon, and the shenanigans we used to get into. Here?" Sigh. "Well, I ain't on a farm any more, that's for darn sure, doc."
There's a long quiet as the Corporal speaks. The Lieutenant drinks, slowly draining the beer from her glass. She doesn't interrupt, but she also doesn't look directly at Sunny, either. Eventually, she finishes what's in the glass. Setting her drink (or lack thereof) down, Yelena massages at her hands, but perhaps she rubs at the back of the one and over that tattoo a bit more than anything else. "If that's what makes you happy, Day." There's a slow shrug from the Tauran woman. "I'd just hate to see someone with passion for the job burn themselves out on it. That's a rarity out here."
"Oh well. I'll see if I can play something, like, kind of what you're looking for with that song? And I'll -- well, I'll keep to stuff I know, just to make sure I don't sound too awful."
Sunny gives a salute. "Good to talk to you, Doctor Reznik. I'll, ah -- " She nods up towards the stage. " -- I'll just be up there for the next half-hour or so." She looks at the bartender, and grins. "Unless they yank me off stage, of course."
And then, off she goes. Truth be told, Sunny isn't half-bad at what she can do, actually. There's something simple and folksy about her, both in song and in person. The sort of person that kind of takes whatever rolls in the hay are offered, and then promptly forgets about it the next day.
As they say, life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone.