| Choir Practice |
| Summary: | Ciro speaks with Bannik and Sofia about the future of the fleet. |
| Date: | 09 May 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Laundry Room |
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| Industrial washers and dryers line each side of this elongated room, which typically has personnel moving in and out all day and night. These front-loading systems are designed to withstand the rigors of a military beating and still function as expected. A sturdy set of counters run the length of the room for crewmembers to fold their own laundry and dress and pins or patches before and after the process. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #437 |
The laundry room is not a place of excitement. In fact, it's a rather sterile room that's filled with the sounds of tumbling dryers and off-balanced washing machines. People need clean laundry, and Sergeant Ciro Sondray is no exception. He's the only man in the room, and he's seated atop one of the unused dryers while his assorted clothes rumble in the washing machine across from him.
Being a cult leader and visionary still means having to do your own laundry. Specialist Tyr Bannik, looking rather tired and in his naval off-duties, drags his olive-green sea bag into the laundry room full of dirty clothes. "Is that washer free over there?" he asks Ciro idly, pointing that one of the non-tumbling washing machines.
Ciro lifts his eyes up from a rather large book on gunsmithing and traces his gaze in the direction that Bannik is pointing. He finds the washing machine's lid closed, but it doesn't appear to be running. "I haven't seen anyone touch it. I think someone just left the lid down. It's all yours, man." Ciro says with a solemn nod. Turning the page, he reaches to a mug of tea on his side and pulls it to his lip for a sip. "So you're the guy." He doesn't waste time. "That manifesto's been all over the fleet by now."
"Thanks. Figure I'll get this done before some rack time, huh?" Bannik at first responds before Ciro mentions the manifesto, beginning to drag his sea bag that way. But when The Thing is mentioned, Tyr stops in his tracks, taking Ciro in. Looking him up — all the way up — and then down. Hard not to notice that this guy looks like the stereotypical jarhead. "Uh. Yeah," he says finally. "That's me." His voice has a certain wariness to it.
Sofia is being a laundry fairy. She hums, carrying a half-full seabag over one shoulder and wears her off-duty greens. She pauses, looking to the Marine. There's a polite smile and wave. She peeps in and looks around. She pauses, noticing Ciro and Bannik. She smiles at the two, although she hesitates to interrupt. "Um."
"If you're wondering whether or not I'm some sort of angry marine that's going to stra—" He pauses when he hears a familiar girl's voice from his right. He was about to say strangle, wasn't he? Raising his brows, he turns his attention towards Sofia and nods his head.
"Hey, Wolfe, come on in. The water's fine. I was just introducing myself." He gives her a quiet smile as he folds a paper napkin in his spot on the book. The book is closed and set aside.
"…anyway, don't worry. Though I don't exactly understand so well and I've got a lot of questions, I'm not one of the loose cannons around here. You're safe in here." This is clarified to Bannik, and Ciro stops speaking again with another sip of his tea.
"Uh. Well. I have to admit that it's the first thought that crossed my mind," confesses Bannik. Well, he's nothing if not honest. But Ciro's assurances are enough to allow him to start loading his wash into the washer — it means he has to turn his back on the Marine. "But if you have questions, I'd be happy to try to answer them. I don't claim to have all the answers, but I have some. More than what the rest of the Fleet is telling you."
There's a blank look of recognition. Sofia smiles weakly and nods. "I see. I'm glad. I'd rather not have my friends beaten up or my locker set on fire again. They could've killed everyone in the berths," She frowns deeply. "Especially since everyone was drunk or making out. Or both," Her eyebrows lift. She shrugs it off and smiles. "Sarge is cool though," She nods. "Or at least he puts up with me." The tip of her tongue sticks out at that. "Is that washer in use?"
"Well, no doubt you've got people in the fleet right now that wouldn't mind seeing you hanged, which is why you carry around the bodyguards. Smart idea, if you ask me. There's too many people that have too many strong opinions, and sometime those opinions get out of control." Ciro replies to Bannik. Slowly, his head turns to watch Sofia step in closer. He sticks his tongue out in return and motions for her to take the open washer. "All my stuff's in the wash right now, so it it's not rumbling, take it."
A quiet pause overcomes the tall, muscular marine, and he leans forward with his palms flat on each side of him. "So…I haven't seen Gemenon or anything that was described in the manifesto, but I'm sure you get this question alot…" He flattens his lips. "…didn't your mother ever teach you the story of the guy that nursed the snake back to health? What you wrote about is a lot of trust to ask for."
Bannik starts up his washer for his clothes before he turns back to face Ciro. "It sure is," he agrees. "Both in that I get the question a lot and it being a lot of trust to ask for." He hops up onto his rumbling washer. "But I have a couple different responses to that. First of all, people forget all the things the rebelling Cylons have done for us. I mean, a model Eleven scarified herself twice for the Fleet. Salt couldn't turn on us. McQueen wouldn't turn on us. Allan Rejn died for us. Don't you think they've done a little bit to earn that trust?" He puts it to him as a rhetorical question. "And second of all, I mean, so many things are leading us to the Falls. Dreams; drawings; messages. It can't all be coincidence. There has to be a purpose behind it. And I think the purpose is that this alliance is the next step for humanity, the next chapter in the Great Story that's all happened before." He has a certain airy quality to him when he talks like this, Bannik does, like a preacher. Perhaps that's because that's what Bannik is when he speaks of these things.
Sofia starts the load then, "Thanks." She smiles at him. She goes quiet then as the two chat. She hums softly. Likely, this is drowned out. She looks pained at the mention of old friends gone. She takes a deep breath. "A Ciro story might still be interesting," She smiles over. For now, she tends to let Tyr do the talking. Why, it's hard to tell. "I'm kind of a coward though."
Ciro's eyes lock onto Bannik with a mild level of intensity. Clearly, as the man talks, the feral-looking marine is sizing the man up. Weighing his mannerisms and his body language with each passing syllable, Ciro's eyes gaze unblinkingly, placing the man under the microscope. Only after Bannik finishes his thought does Ciro break contact, turning to gauge Sofia's reactions. His eyes give her a sympathetic look, an extended portion of a private joke between the two of them: Where Ciro goes, sad conversation follows. "A Ciro story? What, you mean you want to know about my past? King mohawk fables?" He chuckles, taking in a slow breath as he leans back.
Ciro releases his sigh, eyes tilting to the corner of his sockets as he decides just how to respond to Tyr. "I'm…in the camp that after all that's gone down maybe what we need in our lives is no more Cylons period. I'm not necessarily talking war, but if so many Cylons are championing our cause, then why didn't they warn us? We've got cylons that kill us and look like us, and now we have cylons that are on our side. Choosing poorly at this point could end our entire species." He pauses, glancing between the two of them. "What about Gemenon? What's going on down there?"
"Well, that's what this is supposed to lead to. A place for us to settle down, a place to rebuild our lives, a place where we won't have to fight anymore." Bannik sounds supremely confident in that respect. It might be the triumph of Hope over Experience. But he transitions to the next question. "What's going on down there? Well, at the Falls, the rebel Cylons and the humans they've managed to gather to them — survivors — have been living. Not well. They fish and gather and hunt as they can. They have limited supplies and rations. But they're getting by. And they're living together in harmony, humans and rebel Cylons."
"Course. You learn a lot from stories. And King Mohawk Fables sound interesting. I mostly want to believe what one does is more important than who or what they are. People from bad backgrounds can be good. Kepner was supposed to be one of the best." And everyone knows how that ends. "I don't know if we can get away from the Cylons," She admits. "But I can't forget people who are kind to me." Pause. "That said, I'm hardly wise or virtuous." She smiles faintly, sadly. She gets the extended private joke. Funny how that works. "A lot. There's a refuge with Raiders that played with us and talked to us. People who lived alongside the Cylons. They had food and place and were happy. I dunno." She shakes her head. "But we had that sick pilot who snuck on, so we had to leave pretty fast," She admits. "I heard he got better though." She shrugs. She still seems curious about the idea of King Mohawk Fables. "I can understand if someone hates me, though." She seems more quietly resigned to her fate. "I wish I knew the answers."
Ciro's gaze darts between the two of them as they speak, taking in both of their angles on the situation. Looking the part of the skeptic, the marine across the aisle drums his fingertips on the cool, painted metal of the dryer he's sitting on. Cylons living in harmony with humans? It's a strange concept, but it seems that the marine isn't doubting the truth of their statements. "You see more than you admit, Wolfe, and I don't strike you as the non-virtuous sort. Unless there's some dark side to your sunny disposition I'm not aware of…" His words trail off once more, and he pauses with his tongue pressed to one of his molars, choosing his next response.
"So…basically what you're saying is that there's a political difference between two groups of Cylons, and that there are Cylons that didn't want the colonies to be destroyed? The rebels are the ones on Gemenon, and that through their actions to aid the fleet they can be trusted?" He lifts his shoulder, not fully buying it, but he's not laughing at them either. "What if this is a ploy to get us to put all of our fish in one barrel? We get tired and fat and start having babies down on Gemenon and then the rest of the Cylons show up? Also, what about radiation down there?"
"Then we're screwed. I'm not sure what to say other than that. But think about it: Rudy Kepner showed us what the human race would come to if we kept pursuing mindless hate against the Cylons. It was the death of all of us, just in a different way. The rebel Cylons; they're showing us another path. I don't know if it won't end the same way. But I know it'll end better than what Rudy Kepner offered us." Bannik keeps going in that cadence of his. "We can't win the war; it's over. We lost. The question is what we do now, what our end-game is. And I think this is it. Or it's at least our best hope."
Sofia is for her part, quiet. She smiles faintly at Ciro. She shrugs. "Maybe and maybe not. There are things I can't remember," She frowns. "I wonder if hope is a sin." She muses over it and takes a deep breath. "No, you are quite a virtuous and hard working Mohawk. Keeping your eyebrows as furrowed as Constin's is hard work," She asserts and seems amused by this endlessly. "Still owe me one fable." Sagenod. The Snipe Slam is painful. "Um. We are kinda fish in a barrel even now. The Cylons have boarded before," She points out. "I think the radiation levels were low. Even if there isn't home, I'd still like one. Y'k— awww, popsicles, she didn't tell me these were whites and - " Siiiiigh. She fishes out some whites and moves them to the washer next. She looks duly annoyed.
Ciro's eyes darken to provide a strange contrast to the smirk on his face. A huff emits through his nose, nearly snorting as he considers Bannik's side of things. "Then we're frakked unless cooler heads prevail." He tilts his head, emphasizing the words. His smile fades, and he gives the Flight Technician a long, quiet stare. "Well…I guess then you make an interesting argument. I'm going to continue to keep one eye on my back until something kills me, and I'll continue to pull the trigger when ordered, especially until we're left alone. I don't gamble, and for your sakes you're probably lucky that I don't make the decisions, because I don't think returning fire until you stop getting shot at is a very bad stance to take." He glances to Sofia and then back to Bannik. "If you're ever in trouble you come to me. I don't know if I agree with you, but I wouldn't let someone kill you. Call it a leap of faith on your part. Unless, of course, you're selling us out." The dark gaze lifts, letting his twisted sarcasm fall into place with a quiet smirk towards the man.
Then he SLAMS his palm down on the top of the dryer. "Having said that I am frakking sick of the tension and the infighting. Wolfe, you'll get your fable soon enough. It'll help if you get a few beers in me first." He runs a hand through his mohawk, scratching it quietly. "Any word on whether or not Gemenon's got a warm beach?"
"Thanks. I appreciate that." Bannik gives a wry toss of his head over to Ciro, then moving his wash over to the dryer. "I've got lots of people talking. I hope some of them hear what I have to say and decide to do something that's going to make a difference for humanity. And — I don't know about beaches. I just know about the Falls. But I hope we'll all get to be on land again soon enough."
"One thing's for sure, it'd be nice to get to walk on something that doesn't feel like an escalator." Ciro replies, shoving himself off of the dryer to land on the floor. He steps across the tile to his washing machine. Opening it, he grabs the contents with one arm and carelessly dumps everything into the mouth of the dryer that he was sitting on. "One thing's for sure, if what you were trying to do was get people to simply consider the option of giving this angle a chance, I think you've done it. Opening the dialogue is the first step, but these sorts of things are hard to get by. I think Kepner was wrong…but I can't blame him for his angle." Shoving the clothes back so that he can close the door to the dryer, he locks it and punches the start button. "I can see where killing everything until you feel safe makes a lot of sense."
"I don't know if it makes sense. But I know it gives a sense of false security. Makes them feel like they're in control when the truth is that they're not anymore. It's why I give myself up to the gods. When I realize they're in control, it helps me get through things." Bannik flashes a smile. "Maybe that's a little too philosophical for you. I don't know. But it's what I think."
Sofia listens and smiles. "I think his hate consumed him, like rabies consumes an animal," She notes. "He would have gone screaming, agonized and with a hunger that would never be satisfied. Each kill would just make him want more. He would've ground us up against Cylons until nothing was left. He was going to ditch the civilians too. Class act, that one. I feel awful for so many people." Marines among them. Sofia takes a deep breath and smiles. "Hey, thanks. And no. I've got more secrets than most people. 3M does repairs on LOTS, including cameras. I've helped Gunny lots." She shakes her head. "Selling out's not my thing. Guess that's why my singing career never took off," She winks at Ciro. "And I think it does actually. I know the river banks were nice, so I bet the beach is fantastic too."
"Figuring out what's in the food in the galley is a little too philosophical to me." Ciro replies, flashing Bannik a lifted eyebrow and an almost disapproving look on his face. He turns and lifts himself up onto the dryer once more and keeps an eye on him while they speak. Sofia's sudden words draw his attention away, and his eyes focus on her form once more. He groans into his words. "Aaaauugh frak. Gods or no gods I want to believe that things are going to be okay from here on out, but I'll never give myself over to hope for it. I'm here to keep my eyes open and to keep people safe, and the moment I lose my skepticism is the moment I become biased. So I'm sure you two can understand my position. I want my beach, and I want my sand. I want the water. I just happen to be willing to wait until it's free of war until I'm ready to take it."
"Yeah. Well. We'll see, won't we?" Bannik takes his laundry from the dryer, tossing it back into his sea bag. He ties up the bag and tosses it over his shoulder. "But hey. If you have any other questions, let me know. I'm always try to help people along. Help them figure out where their head is."
Sofia pauses. Then grins. "Finding out what's in the food in the galley - that's the start of a good horror story," She wriggles her fingers. She smiles at Ciro. "We'll find you a beach someday," She nods. "Even if I have to bring a bucket of sand myself. Okay?" She peers. "But I understand," She nods. She definitely can see both sides of the fense. She looks to bannik. "Be well, Tyr. I think I'll try to catch Miss Averies sometime soon." Nod.
"Yeah, take care of yourself, Tyr." Ciro replies, never having once formally introduced himself to the man. His name having been provided to him by Sofia through the course of the conversation. He lifts his arm in a wave, sensing that he's preparing to head out. "If I have any other questions you'll be one of the first I come talk to for sure. Either way I'm sure we'll see eachother in passing."
Sofia waves to Tyr and looks to Ciro. "Sure thing. And okay." She smiles. "It was good to see you, King Mohawk. Be well." She seems amused and happier for a moment, perhaps some inward amusement.
Ciro glances to the departing form of Bannik Tyr and then to the small, less philosophically forceful woman before him. He watches her in silence, something about him less frustrated and angry. "It was good to see you too, Wolfe. I don't know if you saw there, but we managed to make it through a conversation without me kicking sand in everyone's eyes. I think I'm learning a new skill."
With that, Sofia reaches up to pat the mohawk. It's praise. "See. You are awesome." She nods. "I did see there. But you kick sand less than you think. Still, you did really well since that's um, a really touchy subject." Nod.
Ciro laughs as his mohawk is given worship. His face scrunches up and he lowers his eyes to the floor. "Yeah, well…I only made the guy think for a second that he was trapped in the room with someone that was going to hurt him. I had to put the guy at ease somehow. I do think he might consider me to be a moron. He did suggest the idea was possbily too philosophical for me."
Hee. Sofia smiles at his laugh. "In fairness, you could probably kick the stuffing out of both of us," She notes. "It's not really a popular view just yet," She admits. She shrugs. "But I trust you. And um. He's … really, really smart and really young. It's easy to think of people as dumb when you've been gifted since forever," She notes. "I don't think I'm anywhere near his league."
Sofia does add, "It's unintentional but I doubt he thinks that of you."
He shrugs his shoulder in response, nudging his head in the direction of the door. "Oh, trust me, that's not going to make me like the guy any more or less. Clearly I'm not the brains behind this operation. That sort of thing is supposed to be left to egg-heads like him who take the time to draw out the necessary diagrams." He presses a hand to his chest. "I follow maps, do recon, and if necessary blow things up. You and that guy? You guys keep places like this running. In that sense I'm more along for the ride than anything."
Sofia smiles. "You're smarter than you admit." She shakes her head. "I fix things and run errands. Your head need a lightbulb? That's me." She nods. "But I am glad to have you and Gunny and all those around." She smiles at him. "So - be well and stay safe, okay? And yeah, it feels weird knowing there's someone at least 3/4ths my age and 10 times as smart." Siiiiiigh.
"Yeah, that guy strikes that nerve doesn't he?" Ciro chuckles. "It's downright awkward to see a kid that just got packed full of brains and could hotwire your car before you were even allowed to drive." Ciro smiles, flashing her another one of his quiet, never-too-jovial grins. "You stay safe too, okay? We need our Sofia Wolfe."
Hee. Sofia shakes her head. "He's been my best friend. Practically a brother. I watch out for him and he took care of me when I was really sick." Really sick is an allusion to her psych ward time. "So … I love him to bits and pieces like a little brother but sometimes - I dunno. But yes." Smile. "Good guy though. He's stuck with me through thick and thin." She nods. "I will. And aw. I dunno. But thank you, your highness. Wait, your hawkness. That's better. Don't miss the start of the chow line though - the rolls go FAST." She nods solemnly.