| Broken Heart Disease |
| Summary: | Sawyer keeps vigil over Evandreus. Bannik and Samuel have questions. |
| Date: | 07 June 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Foreclosed. |
| Players: |
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| Sagittaron House - Second Floor |
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| A grand staircase leads up to the second floor, splitting halfway up to join to either side of a walkway open to the floor below. There are once-opulent sitting rooms here as well, but smaller and more understated — meant for more private gatherings. Further in from the balconies and sitting rooms are several wide corridors branching to narrower ones, flanked by door after door. Engraved placards mark several of the doors, marking half of the floor for administrative and office purposes, the remaining for guest suites. The doors leading to the latter have, to a one, been bashed open and the contents sacked; several of the administrative doors, made of sturdier stuff, have been left intact. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #101 |
[ IC - Rumors and Scuttlebutt ]
Pilot Down? (Kythera)
"What ever happened to that one Cerbie pilot? I'm pretty sure he didn't get his ass shot again, but some of us saw him getting carried back to the embassy by some of the other Cerberus people."
"Probably fainted. One of their Marines was saying he looked completely out of it, over there. Seriously, you'd think the Military would send people of sturdier stuff than that."
"I know, right?"
"Feh."
They say he died easy of a broken heart disease, as I listened through the cemetery trees.
Evandreus has not fainted— but a good pistol-whipping will put him out a while. And so Evan's been tucked out in his 'spot' on the balcony, his armor loosened from around him to make it easy for him to breathe. He's uncharacteristically quiet, even now. No sounds of snoring. Just head lolled limp to the side, arm draped limp over torso.
Samuel makes his way up the stairs, moving rather slowly for now. He looks a bit tired for the moment, shaking his head a bit to himself as he moves on.
Sawyer has been keeping vigil over Evandreus' unconscious form, displeased they chose to leave him out on the balcony for safety's sake but said nothing at the time as that's the most pleasant place they could likely think of for him to eventually waken. She's actually tucked just inside, sitting in the open doorway with her head tilted and resting against the jam. One arm is wound around her waist, the other lazily delivering a cigarette to her lips.
Evandreus' eyes twitch below his eyelids. A good sign, in terms of brain activity. Nothing too broken upstairs. At least, not physically. His lower lip twitches, too. Maybe he's actually awake, in there. He doesn't make much noise, though, whatever he might be trying to say.
Samuel makes his way along towards the area where the others are, pausing a bit as he looks around for a few moments. Staying quiet as he walks, expression a bit distant for now.
Sawyer is usually a creature with insatiable curiosity, but for once she actually refrains from creeping closer to find out what Evan is muttering beneath his breath. She gives him at least that little hint of privacy, even as she watches him from the distance. The cigarette makes another pass to her lips, this time the exhale is in twin streams out of her nose. If Sawyer wasn't a hardened smoker before they came to Leonis, she certainly is now. In the eventuality that Samuel emerges in the room they're off of, she'll offer a wane smile.
Evandreus' breathing rate increases, he breathes deeper, less settled, moving the armor over his chest. The back of his head rolls against the concrete floor of the balcony, turning his face away from the door, brows lowering and drawing together.
Samuel stops at the entrance to the room, offering a half-smile in return to Sawyer as he sees that smile. "How's he doing?" he asks a bit quietly as he steps further into the room. Gaze moving to Evandreus for now.
"I think he's coming around now." Sawyer whispers to Samuel, her concerned gaze sweeping back out to the unconscious Evan. "It's not going to be pretty…" There's a pause as she watches him stir a bit, and then her voice is a gentle coax. "It's alright, Bunny. I have some aspirin and water here when you're ready…" Because DAMN that boy has got to have one hellish headache.
Evandreus' head is throbbing like mad, especially where it's resting against the concrete, the pain ringing back and forth across his skull from the place where he was hit to the concrete and bouncing back again. Ears ringing, he only hears a little bit of what Sawyer's saying to him. But enough to piece together that she's offering something. "I don't want any," he whispers, his voice loud to his own ears even if it's only a barely vocalized breath.
"That's good…" Samuel offers a bit quietly as he slips further into the room. Not saying anything now, to avoid loud noises for the pilot.
Sawyer was quiet enough to catch that refute from Evan, and a soft sigh escapes her lips. "Alright." She says as soothingly as she can muster, because what else is she to do? Pour it down his throat? The only way she can help him right now is to stay where she is, so the Reporter sinks down further to get comfortable enough to do just that. "Nothing's going to be 'good' again for him for a long time, Samuel…"
Evandreus curls up to his side, with some effort evident in the motion, and draws up his knees toward the railing, heartbeat rising in his ears, dizzied with pain, he opens his mouth and, with a weird level of aplomb, opens his mouth to vomit out some little bit of stomach contents, then a little bit more when he smells the first bit of it. "Should have left me," he burbles, not bothering not to lay there with his face half-in the mess.
Samuel shrugs a bit at Sawyer's words, momentary grimace. "Would depend on what kind of good," he offers. "Not good as in 'feeling good', but good as in 'still alive', 'conscious' or 'improving'." Pausing a little bit as he looks around for a few moments, "For what it's worth, I think it's good that they didn't, sir," he offers to Evandreus, with a bit of a grimace. There, more usage of the vague word 'good'…
"Not a chance in hell." Sawyer says flatly to Evan, trying to keep a trace amount of annoyance out of her voice. Her hand reaches out of the doorway, if only to ash her cigarette on the balcony, the dusting far enough away that it won't effect Evan in the slightest. That's all the movement she makes, no darting forward to baby him after he's thrown up. Maybe she figures some things he has to work out on his own. The reporter is currently sitting in a doorway, her frame blocking any exit to the balcony where Evan is currently recovering from a rather nasty pistol whip he received yesterday. She doesn't bother to clarify to Samuel that Evan doesn't care about those three definitions he gave of the word 'good'.
"Hey. Uh. Everyone okay?" Bannik hung back on the reconnoiter yesterday, remaining here with the other deckhands. But it doesn't mean he can't check up on people. Given the positioning of Sawyer, his question is mostly directed at her back as he appears at the entrance to the room
Evandreus doesn't care, that's true. He doesn't argue with Sawyer any further, either, eyes fixed on the concrete slabs in front of them. The shoulder not planted against the ground shrugs up toward his ear as more people come around, starting to feel worryingly crowded.
"Most of us would be, yes," Samuel offers quietly to Bannik, as he turns to look at the man, then back to Sawyer and Evandreus. "What happened out there?" he asks, after a few moments.
The filter of Sawyer's cigarette gets touched back to her lips, the cherry flaring angrily as she takes a deep draw. "Your worst nightmare." The reporter says cryptically, not altogether with it herself. "One we're never going to wake up from until we get off the gods forsaken planet." Perhaps some bit of sanity manages to eke into Sawyer's brain, and her head lulls towards the inside to fix Samuel and Bannik with an almost pleading glance. "If you want details it's going to have to wait." Until she's not on suicide watch.
"Uh. Okay." Bannik is quiet, but he's good enough not to probe all too deeply. At least not yet. "Any progress on getting on up off of the planet?" He changes track.
Evandreus stays there, huddled, with nothing to say, seems like. At least, if he has anything to say, he's not saying it. His eyes close again. But sleep's gone, and won't be soothing his soul with the blessing of unbeing again anytime soon.
Samuel nods a little bit as he hears that, "Okay…" he offers, making a mental note to find out more about this at a later point. Otherwise going quiet for now.
Sawyer slips to her feet, some effort needed on her part to make herself vertical again, including a hand on the jam to haul her ass up. She reaches to quietly close the doors, not that it makes a whole lot of difference as most of the panes of glass on the double set have been broken out. At least it's some semblance of privacy between in the inside and the out. Cigarette stuck by the paper to her lips, she walks in towards Samuel and Bannik both. "If there's progress, I haven't heard it. What I /do/ know is that the Cylons appear to be abandoning their pet projects here. That doesn't mean we can assume they're all gone, but at least they'll be less of them to contend with. We cleared out what is referred to as the 'Tower'. Where they were doing experiments." She pauses, a glance over her shoulder, a step closer to Samuel and Bannik and her voice lowers to a pitch Evan hopefully won't hear over his own misery. "Human experiments. Lieutenant Doe recognized one of the..deceased."
"But if they're leaving, maybe we can get to Aerodyne and get the ships there off the ground." That seems to hearten Bannik somewhat, bringing a flash to his eyes. And then: "…Recognized one? Human experiments? Oh my Gods …"
Less the misery, and more the shrill ringing in his ear— but either way, Evan can't hear the group of people in the corridor. He relaxes a little as they leave, but still doesn't move. Eyes slowly ease open again, fixing on a spot about midway up a curved concrete post, mouth just slightly open.
Samuel pauses a little bit as he hears that, "I see?" he offers, expression hardening for a few moments. "Like that one from the library said, I guess…"
Sawyer gives a nod to Samuel. "She was there, from what I understand. Basically broadcast their little humanoid conversation with her pals to us over Lieutenant Kulko's wireless so we would know their plans to /terminate/ their project." The reporter practically spits the word 'terminate' out as if it caused too foul a taste in her mouth to be held in. "But we at least found thirty or so survivors and pulled them out. Who we could, anyways." She glances back over her shoulder, as if to make sure Evan hasn't launched himself over the balustrade while they were talking. "Oh my gods is right."
"So. Uh." Bannik tries to find a footing in the conversation that isn't quite so disturbing. "Well. Thirty more souls is thirty more than we had before. Sixty total. That's — that's something." It's a small shred of hope for the deckhand. "Does Lieutenant Kulko know our next step yet?"
Evandreus hasn't. He might not even have the energy for it, if he had the inclination. And his sidearm's still on the floor in that room on the fourth floor of the tower, so there's no worry there. Head slowly drifts along flooring as eyes painfully inch up to the top of the railing, and to the sky beyond.
"We're going to need something large to transport all of us off this rock, at this rate," Samuel comments, although he has a bit of a smile present. Looking a little lost in thought for the moment, expression a bit distant.
"We need a freighter. Oh wait! No..no..they blew that one up when we got here, didn't they?" Sawyer snaps at Samuel, then immediately seems sheepish that she did. The hand not holding her dying cigarette gets lifted, her palm ground into her eye. "Sorry. Look, I don't know who knows what or what's going to happen next. I think most of us are still shook up about what happened yesterday. I just need to get a little bit of fresh air, I'll go find someone to watch after Evan if neither of you blokes want the chore."
"We'll see what we can do, okay?" Bannik tries his best to diffuse any flare ups. "We're all just trying to puzzle it through." He then takes a step forward. "I'll look over Bunny. He just rattled at what he saw?"
Some of the snappage from inside comes audible through to the balcony, but it doesn't stir him, any. He seems to be a simple enough charge. Like watching paint dry or grass grow. He's not doing much.
That reaction gets Samuel out of his thoughtfulness, and he blinks a few times, expression turning a bit concerned as he watches Sawyer for a few moments. "It's okay," he offers after a few moments, before he adds, "Are you?" The last part offered very quietly. He then nods a bit at Bannik's words, nodding at the man. "Get the air," he offers to Sawyer, with a bit of a grin.
"Worse." Sawyer says in a wavering voice in answer to Bannik. "Broken hearted." The reporter delivers the phrase like a doctor gives the diagnosis of terminal cancer. With that, and Bannik's assurance that he'll keep an eye out for Evan, Sawyer shuffles off to lick her own wounds. "I'll be fine." She mutters to Samuel on her way out.