| Chemistry Lesson |
| Summary: | Rose gets a visit from Damon and gives him a biochemistry pop quiz, amongst other things. |
| Date: | 2 Nov 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None. |
| Players: |
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| Hangar Deck - Starboard - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Post-Holocaust Day: #249 |
| This Hangar Bay is filled with boxes, crates and other various supplies that are needed throughout the ship. Most have been moved to one end and lashed with tarps to keep them out of the way. The place has gone from extra ship storage on one end and the ability to house over 450 people on the other end. Whatever could be made into cots has been set up like a huge barracks. Some areas have been made more presentable with a few items that belong to the person holding onto their small area in this world. Marines guard this area 24/7 and food is brought in cafeteria style, feeding people out of vats and buckets as they line up with their plates. One area has been tarped off to the side, that holds canvas showers and sinks. As a small improvement in the standard of living, the Head, showers, and sinks have been hooked up to running water and sewage, meaning that they no longer stink or need to be cleaned daily. |
| Condition Level: 3 - All Clear |
Things seem to have settled down this evening; earlier, rumor has it that the Saggies and the other malcontents were "raising the rabble," and an increased MP presence was required to ensure nothing violent broke out. And it didn't. Still, things are a bit tense right now, and the number of Marines on deck remains higher than usual.
Rose is completely unphased by it all, perched on the edge of a folding chair and sorting through what appears to be the communal civilian clothes. A bin has recently returned from laundry, and she's meticulously going through the assorted clothing and folding it for storage. She's apparently sorting only through feel, which has made for some interesting piles. Sweaters, slacks, blouses, shirts, and the like are all sorted by their fabric type and not by their size or intended gender. Still, she's quite busy, and looking reasonably content with her work.
Damon hazards his way onto the starboard hangar deck. It's been a while since he's done that - he's been wary of showing up there since the incident with Sitka, but time lends itself to healing and forgetfulness both. But as soon as he notices the increased MP presence, the nervous glances start, and he steers clear of any and all civilians that look shady. As much as he can in such a crowded situation, anyway. "Hey, it's me," he calls out as he approaches Rose, not wanting to startle her. "Andreas-me, I mean. Are you, uh, busy?" he asks. "I just… wanted to come see you." He smiles warmly at the blind woman.
Rose turns suddenly when she hears Damon's voice, a sudden sunlit smile on her face. "Andreas! No, I'm not busy, just doing my share of the folding." The last garment she was folding, some kind of women's satin nightgown from the look of it, ends up clutched in her hands as she rises to her feet and steps away from the piles of clothing.
Damon eyes the nightgown she's holding. "So that's not yours?" he asks jokingly. "Okay, I don't want to be weird and hypersensitive to you not being able to see or anything, but I also don't want to catch you completely off-guard without being able to pull away or punch me, so…" A nervous chuckle and a bit of bootscuffing. "Gods, I sound like such a weirdo." Out with it! He works himself up to it and blurts, "Is it all right if I hug you and give you a kiss?"
Smile turning coy, she dips her head. "You don't have to ask, Andreas. I think by now everyone except us realized what was going on," she says. But then, she looks down at the thing she's holding. Oh, dear. The heat rises to her cheeks - if she wasn't blushing before at his question, she certainly is now. "I… erm, well, that's a good question. What's it look like?"
"You're cute when you blush like that," Damon murmurs as he comes close to give her a hug and a quick kiss. "Just like the first time I met you here." He kisses her a second time before he steps back. "Well, it's…" He takes the garment from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers to let her know what he's doing, and holds it up in front of her to see how it looks. "It's, uh, whew." He grins broadly. "It's a black satin-y nightgown with red highlights. Low-cut with a little red bow in the front and lacy… things… all over. You should keep it."
"Oh, gods," Rose squeaks, snatching it out of Damon's hands and starting to fold it up. She starts making up excuses: "It's probably not even the right size. This is a lot recovered from Aerilon. Heavens know who it belonged to before." Shaking her head disapprovingly, the satin thing gets folded up into something virtually a quarter its size. And then, she frowns a little, not quite knowing what to do with it… so she shoves it into her back pocket. "There. Out of sight, out of mind." She then stands with her hands folded in front of her, peering up at Damon innocently. False innocence, and still blushing.
Damon just grins and watches as she folds it up, talking all the while. "You know, I might buy the whole innocence thing if I hadn't seen you throw back Aerilon whiskey like someone was tryin' to steal it from you while telling me stories about how you used to get blind smashed in university," he says. But he doesn't say anything about the fact that she put it into her back pocket. "So… how was your day? Nothing happened here, did it? I got worried when I saw more MPs here than usual, but I haven't heard any commotion or nothing, so I didn't want to jump to conclusions."
Rose shakes her head, forcing stray locks behind her ear. Her hair is getting to the point where it's in that awkward can't-do-anything-with-it transition phase between "short and spiky" and "shoulder length". "Oh, I'm fine," she says, smile fleeing as she glances off to the side. "It's just those immature, low-browed jerks causing trouble for the Marines again. Honestly, I don't understand why they balk and sneer at the military so much. If it weren't for them, we'd all be dead, most likely. Ingrates." The edge to her voice disappears, though, reaching out a hand to make contact with his arm, fingers tracing along seams. "Everything's fine," she repeats, smile returning slowly.
"Gratefulness, they say, is the most short-lived of all human virtues," Damon quips, looking around the deck at the gaggles of civilians. "Besides, I mean, I think I can understand where they're coming from sometimes. The military's got all the guns and power, we hand down the dos-and-don'ts, and cram all the survivors we've picked up onto one section of the ship - as big as it is - don't give them any real freedom at all." He shrugs and drags a box closer so he can sit down on it - but doesn't yet. "Some people'd rather die on their own terms than live under someone else's power, I guess. Let 'em make all the trouble they want. As long as you're safe, I'm happy." He reaches out and mirrors her motion of tucking her hair back behind her ears.
Rose's lips purse as her sightless eyes focus on the shapeless blur that is Damon. "I've had that same conversation with someone else today," she says. Apparently, vague Rose is vague, as she immediately changes the subject. "You know, of all the times we've just talked, just you and me, you've come across as quite intelligent and well-spoken," she says, still toying with an edge of his clothing. "Why did you go into the military, Andreas?"
Damon looks curious when she mentions 'someone else', but is caught so off-guard by her question that he forgets to ask who that someone was. "Me? Intelligent and well-spoken?" he asks with a little laugh. "I figure I'm smart enough to walk and breathe at the same time, most days, and if I get through a sentence without uh-ing ten times, I'm happy." He rubs the hair at the back of his neck and admits, "I do try to at least sound a little intelligent around you." He chuckles nervously and falls silent for a while, trying to think up the words to explain why he decided to pursue a career in the military. "Well, I guess I've always been fascinated by machinery. I used to tinker when I was little. Y'know, making little things, fixing things, learning little bits at a time. But I wanted to play with the big toys. Military's got the resources, they've got tons of Vipers and Raptors that need fixed, rebuilt, and maintained, and technology that I wouldn't be able to work with much on Tauron." He looks at Rose, letting his hand fall away from playing with her hair to rest against her hip. "I've never really looked back since."
Rose's head tilts to the side a little as she listens to him explaining his life-choice. "You are an intelligent person, Andreas, else you wouldn't be where you are today, still alive, surrounded by people who… appreciate you. And I don't want you to try to… go out of your way to sound smart around me. You don't have to be anyone but yourself. Even if it means talking like a sailor." That last bit said with a bit of a quirky grin. She probably means the one incident with Radcliffe. She draws a little closer, resting her other hand on his forearm. "You're like the only thing that I can see clearly, in this frakked-up world," she murmurs. And then her demeanor completely changes, turning on a dime. "Oh! Andreas! I forgot to tell you!" She blurts out, grabbing ahold of his arms and bouncing in place. "Dr. Adair. He's a new doctor aboard. He mentioned that I might be eligible for cataract surgery, and sooner than later!" Squee.
"Well, I mean, I talk one way around the people I work with on the Deck, and another way when talking to other departments or officers, right? I'm not trying not to be myself around you, I'm just trying to not be so… crude, I guess." Damon wraps his arm around her waist when she draws closer and plants a small kiss on the tip of her nose. "As frakked up as this sounds, I never would've crossed paths with you if the end of the worlds hadn't happened. So as frakked-up as this world is… it's got its silver linings." But her excitement serves to be confusing instead of infectious, and he frowns in puzzlement as she bounces. "Wait, what? Cataract surgery? Does that mean… you'll be able to see?"
Rose nods excitedly, beaming a smile. "Yes! Well, maybe not as good as before, and since I wore glasses before it's not like I've ever had perfect sight, and there could be complications from how complete my cataracts are, but but but…! He said sooner, rather than later! He's asking the other medical staff if he can have the resources necessary to do the surgery. Isn't that wonderful? I'll be able to finish my work and actually be useful to the hydroponics project!"
"That's incredible!" Damon says with a huge grin. "You've been unable to see since I met you, so I didn't even know it was even possible for you to see again. I'm gonna have to close my eyes the first time you see me, though, so I can't see if you look disappointed to see what I actually look like." His hand touches her cheek lightly, his thumb tracing a small arc near her eye. "You'd be able to see everything - all the places you've been on this ship, the freighter, and everyone you've met. I just hope it's all just as good - or better - than you imagined it in your mind's eye."
Rose shakes her head. "It will be nice to be able to see again, of course, but… the ship, and peoples' faces, are unimportant, Andreas. Especially yours. I don't care what you look like. It doesn't matter to me. And besides," she murmurs, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek, tracing down his jaw. "I already know what you look like, after a fashion."
Damon leans into her touch. "I guess you do," he replies, looking into her eyes. "Hey, do you think they'd let me come to the… what was it, operation? Surgery? To wait outside, I mean, and to help you once you get out. Well, if you want me there." His shoulders hunch upward and he ducks his head. "It's okay if you don't. I just don't wanna push myself on you or anything, y'know? I don't know if I'm crowding you or what."
To quell any doubts, Rose reaches up on tip-toes again and gives him a long, drawn-out kiss, curling both hands up behind his neck and head. Lips parting reluctantly, and her cloudy eyes fluttering open lazily, she murmurs, "You can't crowd me. I'd love for you to be there. I mean, I'll be bandaged up for a week or two, but, you can come help me back here. If you like."
Well, that's a hell of an answer. Damon returns the kiss hungrily, his hands staying chastely on her hips - though one twitches downward slightly before he stops it. "Then I'll be there," he responds quietly. "I'll bring you back here, take care of you, whatever you need. And I so can crowd you, but I'll keep asking if I am if that's the answer I'm gonna get every time."
"Keep asking the question, and you may find the answer isn't as good as the last one," Rose chides him. "You'll just have to come up with new and interesting questions." She disengages from her embrace, returning her hands to his arms, so she's not straining on her toes any more. "Such as, what is the compound formed from chlorination and acetic acid?" She winks, then pulls away from Damon gently and takes a few steps backwards. "Biochemistry is the path to my heart."
"Uh… that'd be what the galley claims is 'soup of the day'," Damon answers. He has no clue at all. "I foresee many long nights in the library, pulling up books on biochemistry." From his smile, though, he doesn't seem to mind that thought. "I don't know nothin' about that stuff, honestly. I went the easy route. Machines and math, a world of metal and fire. If you break it, I can fix it."
Rose nods slowly, grinning a coy grin. "And in my world, you give me a chemistry set of acids, bases, carbon, salts, and other building blocks, and I can synthesize pretty much any organic compound necessary to keep us alive," she explains. Nodding to Damon, "You keep the machines running, I'll keep the people running. Sounds like a match made in heaven, hmm? And the answer is 'chloroacetic acid', a building block in organic synthesis. It's not on the test."
"Chlorination and acetic acid make chloroacetic acid. I think I can deal with that," Damon says with a laugh. He adds in a stage-whisper, "Psst, I think I'm on the professor's good side, so maybe I can get a peek at the answer key before the test." He winks without thinking, then makes a face at his own stupidity. "I'll do you one better - I'll even keep the machines that you use to keep the people running, running. But then, I guess that you'd be keeping me running, so you are in effect keeping running the keeper of the machines that keep the people running, running. Wait… yeah… I think that's right?"
Rose laughs brightly, shaking her head. "I should get back to folding. I've a lot to go through," she says, still smiling. "Will you visit me again? Sooner than later, I hope? And you can ask me another question, and we can go over the answer."
"Sooner than later," Damon confirms. "I'll go study up for the pop quiz. And come visit you so much and so often that you'll be asking the MPs to keep me away whenever I show up." He gives her a last quick kiss, then a for-reals last longer kiss, then a really-seriously-for-reals last last kiss before leaving. "Good night, Rose."
Rose is left breathless after the last one, but she manages to swat him away. "Good night, Mister Damon!" She giggles girlishly. And she finds her way the short distance back to her odd piles of clothes, where she resumes her chores.