| PHD #251: Ass Over Tea Kettle |
| Summary: | As part of a bet, Shiner makes a pass at Khloe; she doesn't believe his sincerity at wanting to become a Nugget. Hilarity ensues. |
| Date: | 04 Nov 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Bran and Shiner (not posted yet) |
| Players: |
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| Hangar Deck - Port - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| The single largest rooms on the Cerberus are the hangar decks. Each flight pod consists of two stacked landing bays with adjoined decks and hangars, which along with computer-assisted landings results in a faster Viper recovery rate. Mirror images of each other, these two huge areas are located on the flight pods. The inboard sides of the deck, closest to the ship's main hull, are lined with parking and maintenance bays for Vipers and Raptors based aboard the battlestar. The outboard side of the deck contains the launch tubes used by the Vipers for standard deployment. Huge blast doors seal the deck into four sections, each one containing an elevator that leads up to the flight deck directly overhead. The fore-most section contains an elevator system that leads towards Aerospace Fabrication. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #251 |
Shiner is, in theory, working on the deck again, back in his bright orange overalls with only a walking stick, stumbling gait, claw like appearance to both hands, and a mass of nasty scar tissue on the back of his neck to indicate any lingering injury. In practice, however, right this moment, he's sat in the cockpit of one of the Vipers down for repair, squinting off into an imaginary distance and making quiet 'pew pew!' noises as he yanks on the control stick.
And in stalks Captain Vakos, no doubt on one of her equipment-checking tears as she's not scheduled for any launches this evening. Dressed in her blues, as she is often seen wearing when not in her flight suit, she strides with purpose over towards her usual Viper. Unhooking a clipboard with a pre-flight checklist hanging from a vacant rolling ladder, she begins at the nose cone and starts working backward, ticking off on each line-item as she goes. She eventually ends up stooped as she ducks under the bird, checking exhaust ports and gun barrel assembly and whatnot.
Shiner fires off a last imaginary salvo at his evil cylon foes, finishing it up with a yank on the stick to perform a barrel roll. Or, y'know, would. If the Viper were actually flying and not just sitting like a lemon on the deck. Satisfied with his heroic victory against toaster-kind, he rolls his shoulders, glancing out of the cockpit and spying the stalking captain. He hurriedly goes to unfasten the canopy of the Viper he's in, checks his reflection in its surface, fixes his most charming smile in place and calls over as he does his best to extricate himself from the cockpit, "Sir! Captain! Sir!"
Bang. "Frak!" Khloe apparently bonked her head on the underside of the Viper at the sudden call in her direction. Rubbing the back of her head as she straightens up from underneath the bird, she looks around. Finally, she spots the deckhand scrambling out of the other Viper. Eyes narrow. "Are you talking to me?" She asks, still wincing. Apparently the tight regulation braid down to the middle of her shoulder blades provided no cushioning for her skull.
"Yes sir!" Shiner calls back over, awkwardly hooking an arm around the catch on the Viper's canopy to steady himself as he sets his feet down and fumbles for his stick. Stick in hand, he frowns in concentration, flicking one leg forward from the knee, then shifting his weight to it carefully, rinse and repeat. "Hang on, sir! Don't go anywhere." Hobble, hobble, stumble. "Looking good today, sir," he notes amiably.
Khloe's brows knit in a disapproving frown, although the corners of her mouth fight upward at the sight of Shiner gimping his way down the ladder. "Thanks? I think," comes her reply. "Here, let me help you." She crosses the short distance to plant her foot at the base of the ladder to keep it still and snug against the Viper so the man doesn't injure himself further. "Question number one: if you're injured, why are you in uniform? And question number two: if you're in uniform, why the frak were you in one of my Vipers?"
"Thanks, sir," Shiner adds gratefully as she helps, pausing to lean against the Viper as he finally hits the deck. "This is me back to work, sir. Fighting fit and all that!" he tells her, flashing an easy grin. "Deck can't cope without me, or something. Or maybe I was just going nuts sat on my arse all day doing frak all." He glances up to the Viper cockpit, lying smoothly, "I was just checking it, sir. They've got me training on fixing the things now, too. Scary, huh?" Cue that grin again.
"Ah," comes Khloe's monosyllabic utterance in response to Shiner's explanation. "I know you," she begins, frown lessening somewhat into a mild stoic scowl. "You're the kid that almost got his head shot off by Sagittaron dissidents, aren't you?" Well, so much for sympathy. But, she does give him a nod. "Good to see you survived. Losing good men and women to Cylons is one thing; losing them to gods-damned Saggies is another." Gray-blue eyes glance up at the Viper's cockpit; she licks her thumb and rubs it against a scuffmark, likely from Shiner's boot. "I see. Still an apprentice, then," she observes astutely.
Shiner nods once. "Yes sir, that's me. The whole getting shot thing got right in the way of my training. Frakking Saggies can be so thoughtless, can't they? Will they not think of my pay rise?" A pause. "Well, assuming we ever get paid, that is." He absently rubs at the back of his neck, eyeing the scuffmark. "Sir, you train all the new pilots, right?"
Now this gets Khloe's curiosity; her usual grim-faced stoicism is briefly replaced with mild surprise as both eyebrows go up in curiosity. "Yes. Yes, actually, I do. Well, I've trained some of the Nuggets, and can't take whole claim. Why?"
Shiner gives a faint smile, confiding simply, "I want to learn to fly, sir." He gives a light shrug, shifting his weight against the Viper. "I heard it's real hard work and all, but, frak, if you're teaching? I can't go wrong, right?"
"You want to learn how to fly," comes Khloe's skeptical echo. "What happened to being a deckhand apprentice? Have you talked to CPO Atreus? PO Damon? I'm sure as shit not going to poach one of their deckies, or even so much as entertain this conversation, if you haven't talked to your superiors."
Shiner nods firmly. "Oh yeah, I know, I know, sir. I talked to Major Hahn and she said I had to prove I was proper fit first and everything. But you need pilots, right? And I'd rather next time I get shot, I get a chance to shoot back, y'know?" He grins again, folding his arms across his chest. "I just wanted to check that it was you doing the teaching. You're, like, one of the best, right?"
There's a couple of heartbeats where Khloe simply stares at David, holding her breath, eyes narrowing again. There's a cold sizing-up going on, like a snake ready to unhinge its jaw and strike at dinner. Then, taking a breath finally and exhaling most of it before speaking, in a low, even voice, she says, "I'm not entirely sure what you're on about, Mister, but I will give you this one piece of free advice: Sticking your nose up my ass is only going to make me more irritated than usual, and give you a nose full of shit." Unblinking, she lifts her chin a little, doing her best to look as stone-cold bitch as possible, before beginning to turn and walk back towards her Viper.
There's a certain amount of snickering and hissing of the word 'Burrrrnnnn!' from various deck crew who've been watching the exchange, but Shiner simply flips the bird casually towards them, grin still in place as he shuffles after her towards the other Viper. "Lovely as your ass is, sir, and I mean it, it's a truly fine example of an ass, I just wanted to know what I have to do to get to fly. You like tea, sir? I got a small supply of the real stuff. Cuppa and a sit down so you can tell me what you want from me?"
Rather than turn and strike the apprentice deckhand, which would no doubt be quite painful and debilitating for Shiner and end up with Khloe in the brig, she instead throws her fist into the side of her Viper with a lond bang! Whirling on Shiner, striking her heels together in an attention-pose, her voice raises to its full command voice, "Apprentice, atten-SHUN!" She barks, glaring straight at him, daggers shooting from angry, gray-blue eyes.
Urk. Still, Shiner isn't that long out of basic training, and if there's one thing you learn in basic, it's immediate obedience to barked commands. The stick clatters to the deck beside him as he immediately draws his arms to his sides, straightens, lifts his chin, and, with precise comic timing, slowly falls sideways as his leg gives way.
Khloe's mouth opens as she's about to dress him down with piss and vinegar, but at the sign that he's going to collapse under his own weight, the word that sneaks out of her mouth is, "Frak." Quickly breaking forward, she skids forward on her heels and attempts to catch the slumping deckhand. This will likely end up with his dead weight causing her to fall to her knees with him partially on top of her.
Shiner wrinkles his nose from his spot nestled somewhere in her lap now, clearing his throat delicately. "Uh… sir? I take it you didn't want tea, then?"
"You frakking idiot, get up!" Khloe snarls, grabbing his cane and thrusting it into his hands or midsection, whichever is more convenient (and painful). "Nobody said to drop your cripple crutch, I told you to stand at att… get the frak off me!" Another shove, and Khloe quickly stands to her feet, tugging her jacket flat. Her face is burning bright red, matching the Evil Death Gaze she has affixed on Shiner.
Shiner winces as the cane is shoved at him, then swears under his breath as he's then toppled away to the deck. He grits his teeth, frowning with concentration as he wills his limbs into position to enable him to stand up, a long, painful process. Still, there's a tiny flicker of glee somewhere in his eyes. After all, he did just have his face in her crotch, which /has/ to win the bet he had. "Sorry, sir," he manages, screwing up his face as he wobbles to attention. "Didn't mean to fall, sir."
Almost spitting when she talks, Khloe is furious, and her voice has returned to that low, growly seething voice, like a nasty thunderstorm still too far off to mess up your picnic, but man, does it sure make you run for cover. "You, Mister — I don't know what your malfunction is, but I'll be frakked if I'm going to let a pissant deckie talk to me like that. Get the frak away from my Vipers. You'll be sure I'll be letting the PO know that not only are you a useless frakking cripple, but you've probably had part of your brain shot out as well. What by the Twelve Lords were you thinking, making multiple unwarranted passes at an officer?"
Shiner blinks. Apparently the cute smile and imagined boyish good looks have failed him. "Uh… I… sir?" he queries, squinting over at her with growing dread. "Don't tell the Chief, sir. He'll rip me a new one! I wasn't making passes, honest, sir! I just wanted to know about training, sir! Honest I did!"
"Then you've got precisely ten seconds to start spewing what all of that was about!" Khloe barks at Shiner, a couple of inches from his face now. And, it seems, rising to her tallest posture, almost as tall as Shiner. Maybe just as tall, due to his reliance on the cane. "Ten! Nine! Eight!"
Shiner shrinks back from the threat in alarm, wobbling precariously once more. "Sir! I just want to fly, sir! That's all! Honest it is! You're the one who brought up asses!" he protests.
"You have got to be frakking kidding me, Mister!" Khloe continues her advance. At this point, she doesn't care of the deckhand falls; at least it'll be on his ass and not potentially on his neck. "You're half my age and making a pass at the coldest bitch in Air Wing. Spew it! Seven! Six!"
"You're not my type, sir!" Shiner protests helplessly, taking a half pace backward to steady himself, which fails, spilling him once more to the floor. "Frak! I just figured if I made you smile, you might put in a good word for me! Shit!"
"Five! Four! Three!" Khloe stands tall over Shiner, stance wide, hands on hips. At this point, any and all work on the deck has come to a standstill; it's always fun watching Poppy have a meltdown on a junior officer or a deckhand… except when her attention is focused on you, of course. "Last chance, Apprentice." And that was her neutral, even-toned voice. Perhaps the most scary one, considering she's gone from low seething to ripshit angry in about eight seconds.
Shiner's eyes widen further. "IswearIjustwantedtomakeyousmilesirandIwasn'thittingonyouandohshitokayokay!ImadeabetwithapilotandIthinkIjustlostpleasedon'tkillme!" he squeaks all in one long go, no breaths, no pauses.
She stops counting. Khloe continues delivering the glare of doom silently upon Shiner for longer than would be conversationally acceptable. Finally, she grumbles, "A bet. Well, isn't that swell. Tell you what, Apprentice. I'll cut you a deal." She crouches down, resting her forearms on her knees, looking down at her hands. Seems the hand she used to punch the Viper earlier split open, and has been bleeding this entire time. She sucks at the back of her hand, scowling at the sting. "You go to this pilot, and you tell him, or her, that you lost the bet. And then you're going to inform that pilot that unless he, or she, comes to me, and admits shenanigans, that I'm going to go to the PO and see that you spend the next two weeks scrubbing heads clean with your teeth. Understood?"
Shiner swallows. "Uh. I can still learn to fly, sir, right?" he queries guilelessly, blinking up into her face.
Khloe stands up to her full height again. "Dismissed," she spits, and then goes back over to her Viper, disappearing around the exhaust as she circles behind it to continue her visual inspection.