PHD #357: A Natural
A Natural
Summary: When it comes to consoling his crying namesake, Trask appears to be a natural… much to Bran's relief.
Date: 18 Feb 2042 AE
Related Logs: None, really.
Bran Quinn Trask Kallistei 
Guest Quarters - Deck 3 - Battlestar Cerberus
Post-Holocaust Day: #357
The area here has been spiffed up for the Delegates. Bunks are kept neat as a pin, the lockers are brand new and have a beautiful shine on the fake wood. A table sits in the center with a vase of fake flowers resting in the middle. The deck has been mostly covered with a round, braided rug of multiple colors. To the back of the area, there is a private shower area. This is just one of five separate areas along Deck 3.
Condition Level: 2 - Danger Close

Up to Bran or Quinn to post the first part of the log.

"Maybe," is murmured offhandedly by Bran. He could maybe say more if there wasn't a Kal currently crying at him, and so, between his little question to Maggie as she stretches in place and waiting for an answer, he's trying to coo the baby to sleep. "You know I'll harp about not eating," there's a pause as he steps about in order to return down his invisible line of pacing. He's already had enough time to change out of his flight suit but that's just all the more reason to drag her down to the galley. "And, well, make a fuss of things."

Quinn realizes just how hungry she is. "I think I will run for food. Love you… good luck with her, I'll be back as fast as I can." She kisses Bran quickly and heads fast out the door.

Like the good Air Wing mascot that she is, little Kallistei Quinn is making sure that if the pilots and ECOs are not sleeping, no one else will. Insofar as those others are within earshot, anyway. When her mother takes the opportunity to duck out, the itty bitty one's wailing acquires a new-found vigor. Sucks to be the man stuck caring for her.

That man, however, isn't the one after whom she was named. The one after whom she was named, after all, being her Uncle Kal… who arrives on the scene late enough to have just missed Maggie. Still clad in the orange jumpsuit of the Deck, he stinks of sweat and grease and a recently smoked cigarette. There's a tiredness around his eyes suggestive of too little sleep offset by a copious amount of caffeine, bursts of adrenaline, and pure willfulness. Stopping dead in his tracks, he realizes, "Clearly, this is not a good time." Can it be that he's actually more comfortable with the sound of klaxons?

Bran doesn't have a lot of time to speak up in reply to Quinn but he does manage a, "Love you too," before turning about in order to watch the woman disappear out to the rest of the ship. That leaves him with Kalli, who is given a dubious look before it shifts into somewhat pained. "Let's see, while your mum's away, would you care for a lullaby?" He gets the expected response of crying.

The newfound pitch at the lack of Jugs around isn't going to stop him from giving up on being a proper dad. He doesn't even initially notice Trask, but that's just about impossible and he looks up and over, "Ah, Captain. I had the same look on my face when I came in earlier." Damn near the same words, too, so he's offering a wry smile as he stops pacing and sticks to just lightly bouncing the baby.

Trask is still kinda staring like someone totally unused to babies would stare at a crying baby. "Did you now?" he asks Bran, somewhat wryly. "That probably means I should get outta here while I still can." And yet he's still staring, wincing just a bit. It's not the noise, really. It's more the sense of helplessness that comes with not at all knowing what to do to make his namesake feel better. "Did she crap herself? That'd make /me/ cranky."

"Mags'll try to get you to take her for the night if you stick around," Bran teasingly warns; yet, then again, it could easily be true. He thinks over that in hindsight until Trask speaks back up, with the man glancing from Kal to Kal and between the two. "Not hungry, or tired apparently, or sick - there's no fever," he's checked. He pauses in order to move the girl from one shoulder to the next. "I know I'd be cranky but no changing necessary. Lords willing that won't be for a while."

"She'll try an' she'll fail," is the scampish reply about babysitting. Despite the mirth curling his mouth, the SL is serious. As Bran verbally crosses off items from the Why Babies Cry checklist, Trask can't help but wonder what else is there. "Maybe she misses Maggie…"

Bran closes his left eye as mini-Kal continues. Eventually she'll stop, but right now she's trying her damndest in taking her toll on the ECO. "Maybe, well, probably," but it's slightly disheartening to even think of admitting that given his relationship in things. He opens his eye just so he can look down to Kalli. It's back to the pacing movements. "Not that I'm jealous," he explains, "It's understandable and all. There's nothing quite like a mother's touch."

Uncle Kal has zero experience in being an uncle. He did not grow-up in a family inundated with knee-biters. In short, he is at a loss. Still, he's not the sort to admit defeat, which might be why he has yet to leave. That, and because he actually cares about that red in the face from screaming redhead, even if she's pretty damn alien. "She cry like this when Evan's around?" It's not intended to be the rubbing of salt in Bran's wounded pride. Just an earnest question from the man who still hasn't budged from the spot where he stopped.

"No idea." He might as well be honest in answering but, knowing Evan, there's a bit of an idea forming that Kalli's a perfect angel when the pilot's around. The ECO won't get too upset about the idea, though, and instead shrugs, at least as much as he can while holding the baby, before speaking up again. "I should've read a book or something. Big family or not, I've no idea, mostly, just the basics," he pauses in looking over towards Trask. "Want to hold her? Might get lucky with quieting down."

Is that a hint of abject terror in those damnably expressive eyes of Kal's? Could be. "Dude," he eventually manages to say, "I don't even know the basics." Does he want to hold her? He honestly doesn't know and, once again, those damnably expressive eyes betray him. But she's crying… and that's something of an Achilles heel for the man. Babies, he knows squat about. Comforting weeping women ranging in age from 4 to 40-something, however, is something that he has more experience in than anyone ever should. "If I accidentally drop 'er, I'm tellin' Maggie it was your idea that I hold 'er." Even so, he's unzipping the oil-stained jumpsuit, sloughing off the top portion, and tying the sleeves around his waist.

"The basics are easy: don't let go," he pauses and then adds a quieted, "Sir," before finishing things off with a light, amused grin. Crying or not, it's something he has since grown accustomed to over the past month or so. "See, on second thought, I kind of like getting laid on a regular basis." He doesn't much stop walking over though if only because he's fairly certain Big Kal won't go dropping Little Kal, which leads to him checking over the bundle of pink before holding her out for Trask to take. "Last chance to decline."

Back out like some punk? Oh. Hells. No. That most certainly is not how Bootstrap rolls. So, after snickering at the explanation of the basics, those strong, Ta Moko adorned arms of his are extended, and all he says is a cocksure, "Bring it."

<FS3> Trask rolls Reactive: Good Success.

Bran brings it, which just means giving Kal to Kal and eyeballing the higher-ranked officer in case there needs to be any emergency actions taken in saving Kalli from thunking the floor; yet, in the end, the transfer goes off well enough and he's left to rub at his right shoulder. "Well, that's not an instant fix…" He should start praying to the Lords, just in case. "I don't know, though, Uncle Kal's a natural."

Fancy that. Not only does Kal not drop Kalli, he gets her all nice and settled, supported and secure. Perhaps he /is/ a natural. Or it could just be that he's well-accustomed to carrying delicate items and heavy loads. Part and parcel of being an engineer and a mechanic. Time to see whether or not his woefully acquired skills at comforting crying ladies and lasses extends to infants. Tenderly, he cradles the wee one, and all the anxiety he was feeling at the prospect of tending to a baby dissolves as his deep-seated protectiveness comes to the fore. It is an almost a zen-like calm that comes over him, creating an unusually soothing presence.

"See, natural," at least Bran feels proud about having guessed right enough. It's the zen-like calm that gets Kalli, or maybe the namesake, or finally having gotten to the point of being too-frakking-tired to cry, but soon enough she's calming and the ECO has time enough to rub at his forehead and remember that he's tired himself. He's quiet. "I like to think this was all my idea."

There is an unerring patience on his part when Trask serves as a sentinel. He doesn't stress about the crying or fret over how he'll make it stop. The man merely waits, lets the poor girl wail and snot, and simply holds her close. Consoling with caresses, he murmurs, "You're safe, Dumplin'. I promise." Soon enough, little Kallistei has indeed quieted down, lovingly lulled to sleep.

It is only once the baby has gone beddy-bye that his initial apprehension resurfaces. "Now what?" Fretful eyes flit to Bran.

Bran makes an 'oh' and looks around the quarters before turning a thumb over his shoulder to jab in the general area of crib-zone. "I can get her tucked in if you want to hide before Mags returns." The hand drops down to his side just so he can offer a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, and then there's a reassuring smile.

Carefully, Kal hands over his snoozing namesake. "You… you got it?" Clearly, the man is outside his comfort zone. Nervous as he is, he also sucks it up to get the job done to the best of his ability, even if he is somewhat flailing internally. Bran probably can take it from here, but he waits to make sure the girl is settled in what passes for a bassinet. With an amused smirk, he remarks, "What? And let you take credit?" Regardless, he doesn't look as though he's sticking around. With a final peek into the crib, a pensive look forms. For a moment, it lingers, and then the SL is drawing back on his jumpsuit, evidently intending to return to the Deck to work some more. "Tell Mags I'll try to swing by later. An' get some sleep, Pens." That said, he turns to depart.

Given the closeness of having to transfer to Kal, Bran makes sure to lower his voice even further when there's a sleeping miniature Kal involved too, "Yeah, got her." He double-checks himself before giving in to an appreciative smile. The peace and quiet is like a breath of fresh air around these parts. Once she's settled and tucked in with a light kiss to the brow, he begins to stand up and turn to his boss. "All right, maybe I can share, maybe," but he ends up nodding to the SL on both regards. Sleep, how it is so missed by the ECO.

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