| Deep Freeze |
| Summary: | Trask ribs and roasts, Juno gets a new callsign, and Quinn gets cornered when Evandreus' ass fails to save the day. Warning: This log contains Adult Language. |
| Date: | 18 Feb 2041 AE (02/18/2010) |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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— [ Raptor Squadron ] ---—— [ Naval Deck - Battlestar Cerberus ] —
The Raptor squadron pilots and ECO's call this place home.
Berths line the walls with a locker between each one. A table and chairs sit in the center and there is a hatch to the Pilots Head, which connects to the Viper Squadron Berthings.
-= [ Condition Level: 3 - All Clear ] =---------
OOC: If someone wants to add the earlier poses, feel free!
Quinn listens to the rundown that her new Jig gives her quietly, her expression remaining still, trying not to give away any of her thoughts about the matter. Sitka draws her eyes for a heartbeat or two, the senior Raptor pilot giving a brief nod to the man before she looks back over to the junior officer. "Very well then, Mr. Mavros. You are dismissed. I won't put you through this clear torture any longer. Though if you have any other questions for me, well, it's only fair. Do ask away." She tilts her head to him once, a permissive gesture, that he can escape her gaze and questioning should he now wish. The only emotion on her face is now just a touch of concern, but she's trying to keep it restrained.
Sitka has been busying himself, meanwhile, hunting for the pack of cigarettes in his slightly rumpled fatigues, along with a lighter. After having caught a bit of the conversation, it seems to be Quinn he's looking for; the dismissal's enough excuse to peel himself off the wall and wander on over.
Some kids aren't good under the eyes of their teachers. Aeolus looks at Quinn for a second, and then mutely nods his head. From venomous to sheepish, his expression changes. Regret. He slowly stands up, taking the cup of coffee with him. Before stepping away from Quinn, however, he does ask her a question. "Is there anything — ?" He stops, and starts up again. "Did you … find it difficult to adjust to coming to a Battlestar when you first arrived on one?" he asks Quinn, taking on a curious tone. He tries to smile; the sides of his mouth twitch and quiver at the ends. Epic fail. He goes back to looking bland and flat. It's easier.
"Well, shiver me timbers! Look who we have here." That would, indeed, be Bootstrap making his presence known. "That hardly looks like a bad prison tat, Cap'n, so I'm guessin' you didn't get your nick 'cuz you ganked some sucka." Why else would someone be called Shiv, though? The mystery must wait, for (1) the ECO pauses to take a long drag from his cigarette, to then (2) exhale it with all the delight a habitual smoker would, and (3) call out to the other Captain, "Cinnabun! Looks like you could stand being popped into an oven." After all, she is wet-haired and freshly showered. Trask then tilts his chin at the newbie. "'Sup, kid?"
Quinn was ready to look away and not bother Aeolus with her gaze one more moment, not wanting to entirely put the kid on the spot, but then he does stop. He gets the courage up to ask her something. Some of that concern from her pale, freckled face melts into a slight smile. "Frankly, I'm finding it hard to adjust to -this- ship. The thing is just too bloody big. I feel like I'm going to get lost going to the shitter." She admits, frank honesty in her voice, her smile turning a bit more wiry and embarrassed. "But yes, changing new ships…" She takes a sip of her coffee, "It's always a bit overwhelming. Lost your old home and your old family all in one fell swoop. Only way to adjust? Make new family. Though I suppose it gets easier after two decades in the military. You'll get there, kid." He keeps this up, he might be given a new callsign by the middle aged woman. And then… there's -Trask-. Maggie just shuts her eyes a moment, trying not to grin and look annoyed at the same moment. "Boots." She calls behind her to her ECO, eyes flickering up to the other Captain. "Forgive my LT, Captain. He has a permanently disabled mouth inhibitor. He doesn't think before he speaks."
Aeolus snaps back to attention again. He looks at Bootstrap for a second, and then murmurs in his direction, "I'm alive. Thank you." Back to the Captain, he tells her, "It's good to know that some of us aren't alone, I suppose. Thank you, Captain." He holds up his coffee, and turns to leave the berthing. Others want Quinn's attention. She's his CO; that makes sense. So, the conversation being over, he moves out of the barracks, to slink off to whatever shadowy corner of the ship he spends his time in.
Shiver me timbers. Like he hasn't heard that one before. "Ha frakking ha," Sitka answers with a brief glance over his shoulder at the ECO. He, however, still doesn't elaborate upon his callsign. A man's gotta have his secrets. "No forgiveness necessary," he tells Quinn, switching his recently-lit smoke to his left hand, and offering his right to shake. "Just figured I'd properly introduce myself. Ibrahim Sitka, one of the Snow Petrels. You're Maggie Quinn, right?" The unfamiliar Aeolus gets a briefly assessing look in passing, though isn't directly addressed.
Cue the glib rolling of those big, brown eyes that seemingly say 'oh, come on, get real'. Add a 'pshaw!' and another drag from his smoke. "Please. Censorship? Total buzzkill. Not only is my honesty refreshing, it's good for morale. It's a sign of integrity." Trask rattles this off with the utmost genuine feigned sincerity. "People will go: 'Boostrap won't BS me'. I'm tellin' ya, sweet cakes…" Yes. He called his Squad Leader sweet cakes. "It builds trust." By this point, the elbow of the arm with the hand holding the cigarette is cradled in the palm of his other hand, culminating in a faux intellectual stance. Looking at Aeolus, he asks, "I'm right, right? You come aboard a ship, probably not knowin' one asshole from another, an' you'll wanna be around the one you know isn't full of shit."
Quinn takes a few moments to watch Aeolus go, but she doesn't call after the young man. Whatever damage her ECO might do, that she can't speak for. He earns his own rolling of her eyes, though, a smirk thrown in his direction. "Be gentle." She warns him, but doesn't seem to mind the more than one too affectionate nickname in her direction. She must have known him far, far longer than this command — there is simply that sort of comfort between them. So, while he focuses/tortures the new kid, she turns her muddy green eyes in Sitka's direction. A warm, professional smile crosses her fuller lipped mouth and she offers her hand in his direction, "Indeed. And… off duty, Maggie is just fine. It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Sitka, welcome aboard." If she has any issue with a weekend warrior, she hides it damned well.
The junior officer catches the glance of his superior officer out of the corner of his eye. He stops, and looks in his direction. Bewildered. Was he talking to him? Was /he/ talking to /him/? His eyes flit to Quinn for a second, then to Sitka, then back to Trask. He stares at the older man, and takes a sip from his coffee cup anxiously. Still confused, he responds. "If you're asking me if I think everyone's an asshole about this ship, sir, I'm afraid I don't know everyone yet." He doesn't mean to sound annoyed, or flippant, or glib. He seems earnest.
Most people do. Have issue with these part-time half-assed pilots whose experience mostly boils down to publicity stunts and looking pretty in shopping mall booths. If that bothers Sitka, he also hides it damned well. "Good to meet you, Maggie. Call me Ibrahim, if you like." At least he shakes hands like a viper jockey, even if he only wears the uniform two months out of the year. "Sorry we didn't see you at the game last night. Your kids did a good job." Aeolus is pretty much left to his own devices over there. Not really his problem, anyway.
Yes, the ECO is talking to the tall drink of Aquarian. "Well, shit. You're as sweet an' innocent as some farmgirl goin' to the big city hopin' to make her dreams of stardom come true. The fact that you're here, though, means you have a one-way ticket to turnin' tricks and maybe starring in some mid-range level porn." He's not being mean. Trask is just being Trask. "Right," he continues, adopting a mentoring tone, "Let me school you, then, young grasshopper. Everyone, and I mean everyone, on this ship is an asshole. This isn't necessarily a bad thing 'cuz assholes can sometimes be fun if you're in the right mood an' there's enough lube. Some assholes, though, are full of shit. Some of 'em have a raging case of diarrhea. A few poor frakkers are constipated but, dayum, when they finally have a bowel movement. And then you have those over-achiever assholes who moonlight as dicks or cunts, dumbasses, shitheads, and mouthbreathers. My point is that it's best to stick to the assholes who aren't full of shit."
Quinn looks momentarily back over her boys, as the old hat focuses on giving the new one a heart attack. Maybe it'll be good for Aeolus? She smiles, just a moment, in that fondly protective way that is more often seen on the face of a mother than a pilot. But then the middle-aged woman is probably mama bird for her whole squadron, admit it or not. "My kids always do a good job. They've been at this a long while, I expect nothing less than perfection. They deliver, too." It's not -meant- to be a jab, but there is a subtle implication there. The suggestion that he has about until yesterday to get his own squadron up to the task or she'll notice. She's doing her very, very best to IGNORE Trask over there, but as he mentions 'farm girl' there is just the smallest of twitches from her. But she returns to her usual self a moment later.
Aeolus is standing by the door, a cup of coffee held in one hand. He listens to Trask, who lectures him about the importance of not being full of shit. The young man appears to absorb the lesson in stride, his expression not changing. In the end, he just nods his head. "I'll keep that in mind." And, that's that. He doesn't argue. He doesn't interrupt. He just lets the older man talk. And then, he sips on his coffee. "Do you have any other pointers, sir?" Not that it sounds like Aeolus is /actually/ listening. Maybe he's just humoring. Kids, these days. It's at that moment, though, that Aeolus looks to his left, and notices Juno. And this makes his face change a little. Eyes widen. One eyebrow lifts. And he says something /emotional/. "What the frak?"
Maybe it's not. Meant to be a jab. Maybe the other Captain doesn't take it that way. Maybe he does. In either case, Sitka seems to feel his welcome's run out, as he merely acquiesces with a slight smile before turning to head for the hatch again. "Good to meet you, Maggie," he repeats. Then the cigarette finds its way between his lips, and he skirts around the pair of Lieutenants on his way out. "Leave some meat on the bones, will you?" To Trask, in passing.
Evandreus runs on in straight after Juno, looking almost as though he expects Cerberus itself to be on his heels. He skids to a stop. "Oh!" he grins at Shivers, "Hey, guy. Coming to return the visit. Welcome across the hall," he tells him, and reaches out to offer a hand.
Juno makes her way into the right berth after having been thoroughly confused over in Viper Land. Fully expecting a more practical bevy of company that she can make sense of, Juno seems relieved when she steps inside, only to look around and see… AJ. She stares for a moment, and then declares, "Well, that is just frakking perfect." It's gonna be a long, long tour on this old metal dog, she knows that now. She looks over at the others. "Juno Orestes. ECO." With a firm nod, she starts looking for a bunk, though still while giving Aeolus a wary sidelong eye. Do the gods hate her? Seriously.
That widening of the eyes, that eyebrow lifting, that 'wtf?' do not go unnoticed by Bootstrap. Brazenly, he looks at Juno while asking Aeolus, "What kind of asshole is she, grasshopper?" His stance is leisurely, as is the way he inhales and exhales more cigarette smoke. To Sitka, he notes, "He's barely been in the roaster. Tell me how you like your meat and I'll let you know when it's time for you to sink your teeth into 'im."
Quinn gives Sitka a brief nod. "Stop in again, Captain. If you ever care to get a meal…" She calls after him, friendly, in her own way, but then she's looking back to her squadron and the odd bit of… Something… which is brewing between them. Juno and Aeolus are both given a long look, but she nods towards the newly entered woman. "Jig. Captain Margaret Quinn… I'll be making your life hell for the next tour of duty." She flashes the woman a smile, her words a bit more relaxed than the professional clip of her Caprican accent.
In response to Juno, Aeolus says, "…" In response to Trask, Aeolus says, "…" Not a man of many words. He watches the former go by, introduce herself to the CO, and pick her bunk. The rugged Raptor pilot comments by saying, "…" Then, there's a pause. A nice, big pause. "She's someone I thought I knew," he tells Trask finally, the insect finding his voice. "If you want to know what kind of asshole she is — " He gestures at Juno with a hand. " — just go ask her. If I may be excused, sir?" He definitely doesn't look like he wants to stay in the room.
Get a meal? That sounds suspiciously like a social engagement. To which the Reservist responds with an offhanded, "Sure. I'll see what my schedule's like in the next few days." Which may or may not be entirely disingenuous. Cigarette slid between his lips again, he shakes his head slightly at the ribbing Trask is giving Aeolus, and slides past Juno on his way out.
Evandreus lowers his hand again at Shivers wanders straight by him, pouting, just a little, before he turns his attention toward the other strange bit of socialization going on, befuddled, having missed the beginning portion of the thing. "What's the matter?" he finally just asks, hoping for someone to catch him up.
"Sir." Juno offers Quinn a respectful nod, and moves to consider her berth options. "Sorry to not have made it in time for Red vs. Blue. I heard it was quite an exercise." She spots a free bottom bunk, moving right past AJ and toward the one that Evandreus happens to have taken possession of the top of.
Quinn shakes her head gently to Juno. "No issue. I wasn't there myself, confined to the never ending flow that is a paper jam of bureaucracy which is required to keep my pins by the brass." She grins to the woman, though she too does look a bit sad she didn't get to go. Never the less, she'd often allow her boys and girls to show off than do so herself. Better for them to continue to gain confidence in their flying. She's had plenty of years of practice. She takes a sip of the coffee she poured when Aeolus was there, looking back to the boy, a bit of a frown on her lips. She shakes her head to Bunny. "Not a clue. I suspect we're not the only people who have served together before. But Grasshopper there…" Oh god, Trask's name for Aeolus is wearing off onto other people! "And Spitshine…" to Juno, "Appear to have had a storage closet romance gone sour before."
Trask may be something of a jerk but he really is a good guy somewhere past all that jerkiness. The discomfort is noticed but he doesn't comment. He merely keenly regards Aeolus for a weighted moment, taking another long drag from his cancer stick. "Sure thing, kid. Next time, there'll be homework." A point he emphasizes by pointing at the Aquarian. Somewhat cheekily, he then flicks one hand in a shooing gesture, adding, "Best hop to it, Grasshopper, before you're stuck cleaning the chalk boards during recess." Can you hear the capitalization of the nickname? It's sure as frak there. That all said, he puts the cigarette between his wry lips and puffs away while en route to discover what kind of asshole Juno is. Catching the tale-end of what Quinn said, he goes, "Oooh. Scandalous. C'mon. Dish all the salacious details. Leave nothing out, no matter how raunchy." It's with an obnoxious sort of intensity that he regards the other ECO.
Aeolus has nothing more to say about these scandalous accusations. He takes his coffee, and what remains of his dignity, and walks out of the berthing. Not that he seemed to be in a great mood in the first place, but the encounter with Juno was like adding a fatality on the road to otherwise shitty weather. So, out he goes.
Juno watches AJ run away, and casts a roll of her eyes in Trask's direction over her shoulder as she bends to set up the bottom bunk under Bunny's. Flee, little Raptor pilot, flee! "Please. I'd sooner cut off my tongue than stick it down his throat." She turns, sitting on the berth and opening the outer pocket of her duffle. A carefully wrapped sachet is pulled out, and she slides open the little shelf built into the berth. Tiny statuettes are arranged in a crescent shape: Aurora, Athena, Artemis, and Ares.
It takes Evan a moment or two to wrap his brain around the new nicknames — callsigns? — but, then, he sort of ambles to one side, plopping down on Juggles' bunk, Spitshine is over by his. "Oh. Ohhh…" a little bit more protracted. "Oh, man. That sucks, dude," he gives his opinion on the matter.
Quinn looks up to Juno…"Hey, sweetcheeks… what's this awkwardness between you and the kid? Sorry, hate to drag a skeleton out of the closet, but I hate to have to juggle my schedules because I can't trust you two at each other's back. So, spill." The boss commands, her Caprican just a bit more clipped and strong, definitely serious about this issue even if everyone else seems to be joking a bit.
"Sounds really juicy," Kal comments with a puckish gleam in his eyes, "Must've been a really bad break-up." Regarding his comrades, he muses, "You think the lady doth protest too much? Even money that they're gonna be havin' hawt make-up monkey fraks by week's end." The way he practically beams at Quinn might more or less convey 'OMG U R BEST BOSS EVAR <3!'
Evandreus isn't joking, for the record. He seems about as serious as he gets. Break-ups do suck. A lot. This he will say.
Crap. Quinn must have looked at her record and seen her previous two callsigns. Bunny already wrinkled his nose at Mafia, but that was so much better than Sweet Cheeks. "Oh my gods, give me a little credit. I like my men with, you know, pulses," Juno informs Kal with a laugh as she perches on her bunk. Her gaze flicks to Quinn, and she says with an air of confidence, "Won't be a problem for me, boss. I can be a pro. No, he's not my boyfriend, and he never was. But his girlfriend was my best friend back in flight school, and she made some bad choices. There were accusations, we both stood in front of a panel, we were both found clear of any wrongdoing. But I don't know that he didn't, and he didn't exactly try to exonerate me, either. So I just ignore his whole sullen schoolboy act and do my job. It's not like he needs to talk to do his." She seems rather serene about it, but then that's easy when the object of her ire isn't around. She's visibly confident of her ability to keep herself professional when it counts, though.
Quinn listens to that, considering quietly. A frown crosses her lips and she nods to herself, making a mental note. "We'll see how you fly in the field. First rotation tomorrow you and Mavros are flying together. End of story." She'd rather throw them into the shark's tank now, before they're deep into the tour of duty, than wait and find out the two severely cannot work together and she needs to transfer one. So, the order is given. She looks back down to her roster that's been on the table before her most of this time and begins to change it up.
"I dunno…" Trask comments, not at all looking convinced. "You think she's a corpse frakker?" he asks his squadmates. "/I/ think she's a corpse frakker." Back to Juno, "I bet he's pissed off 'cuz he found you makin' out with his dead girlfriend." There is a reason why people say the guy is a jerkass. He's so nonchalant about it, though. Utterly glib, down to the quasi-innocent look he adopts, accentuated by an emphatic drag from his cigarette.
You can't really swagger when seated, but the Tauron seems to take an easy, confident recline. Three days of shifts with AJ? No problem. Bring it. "Understood, sir." Acknowledged as an order because it was an order. Her eyes flick to Trask and she says without batting a lash, "How'd you know? What can I say, I've got to stick my living partners in an ice bath and then tell them not to move."
Evandreus keeps his elbows on his knees, leaning forward out of Quinn's bunk to look over into the next one as Spitshine goes on, jaw just a little slack, not amazed, just on the verge of a yawn, which comes— right— now. He turns his head to show his tonsils to his upper arm instead of the ECO. Someone's turning into a tiredbunny. But the comments from Trask make him peer up again, and then to Juno with a wary speculation. "Should I be scared you're sleeping under me?" he asks of her, brows both cocked upward a little.
Quinn stares between Trask and Juno. Oh gods, two peas in a pod. She shakes her head slowly, standing up and beginning to gather her paper work. Apparently, at this point, the Captain is up for a strategic retreat, a bit too old fashioned for these sorts of conversations. In fact, her cheeks are showing just a bit of an embarrassed, conservative blush beneath her freckles…"Now… there's no reason to be… that vulgar…" She murmurs simply, her accent making the conservative words just sound natural. Damn if she doesn't blush like a little girl though.
Ice baths? Nice. Bootstrap doesn't miss a beat. "That would explain how your heart's so cold that you can just sit there when I not only proclaimed that you're a corpse frakker but that you made out with your dead best friend while she was dead. Forget about ice caves," he remarks to Bunny and Jugs, "We're talkin' liquid nitrogen, frakkin' deep freeze. Who am I to judge, though? At least you're honest and I can respect that." When Quinn pipes up, though, the ECO rolls his eyes with standard theatrics. "Of course there frakkin is," reason to be that vulgar, "We're frakkin' pilots. One of us — who isn't me, you, or Bunny — is also a frakkin' corpse frakker." To fail at assuaging Evan's worries, he adds, "No guarantee that you won't wake up in her meat locker. Cold storage, man. Frakkin' deep freeze. You might wanna set-up a 6 lb bag of ice decoy."
"My dad always said vulgarity has its place in any conversation that includes booze, sex, or breaking someone's face." Juno supplies downright gleefully. "But you know, if you remember your science classes, cool air stays," she pats her bottom bunk, "Closer to the ground." She beams sunnily at Bunny. "I'm sure if you move around a lot up there, you'll be fine."
"You never struck me as a Quality lass, Jujubee," Evan intones almost wistfully, using a bit of Leontinian slang for necrophilia, "But I never tried it, so I guess I can't judge, yah?" he gives her a little smile, no less. "If I never wake up again, it was a pleasure serving with you, Captain," he says, standing into an uncommon attention, giving his Cap'n a salute, teary-eyed.
Wow. Maggie's squadron has actually managed to shock her. Maybe it's the generation difference — she does have about a decade on most everyone else in this room, but these were subjects proper gentlemen and ladies just didn't speak about. Or home town girls who never left the farm until they were 18. Either way, she stares at the crowd, jaw half dropped, completely speechless and blushing all the way up to her temples. Quinn is looking for words, but she shakes her head slowly, lost for them. "…this is… Beyond…" she just swallows back, blushing harder again as she moves to put her things away.
There is a knock at the hatch before it opens, admitting Dr Abram Hawke. He looks around him in interest as he takes in the scene but walks fairly directly to the pilots. "Excuse me. I apologize for intruding but I need to speak with Captain Quinn. Is she in here?"
"Well, you are kinda cute, Bunny." Juno says without batting an eye. "So try to avoid cold showers before bedtime, hmmm?" Yeah, she will carry the joke that far…at least until there's a new face in the berth, at which point, she stops talking and regards the newcomer curiously.
"You're one sick frak, missy," Trask tells the other ECO, "but you cop to it." Puff-puff from the cancer stick. "Cool." It would appear that she has received his stamp of approval. "I'll miss ya, Bunny boy," he quips to Evandreus. As for Quinn? Her backseater just looks at her with a bemusement so beautiful that it might actually be genuine. "What?" Seriously. She should not be /at all/ surprised by anything he says or does, by now. Case in point? The way he carries on, noticing Hawke dressed in a doctor's labcoat. "Oh, you're mistaken. Deep Freeze, over here," a thumb is jerked towards Juno, "is the one interested in a tour of cold storage."
Evandreus did grow up in a place where having a convenient slang term around for necrophiliacs was actually necessary. Lowering chin toward his chest, he tries not to let out much of a giggle as he watches his Cap'n, then turns back toward his locker, unfastening his fatigues trousers while raising both brows at Juno. "I avoid cold showers whenever humanly possible," he lets her know. "Cold showers are… cold, yo," he advises her ever-so-wisely. He turns to Trask, especial, to give him a fullness of pouted lower lip and wide green bunnyeyes. Which would look a lot more impressively innocent if he wasn't undoing his fly at the moment. He finally shoves down his trousers and steps out of them, leaving mostly-unfastened boots on the floor as he folds up the pants and tucks them into his mesh laundrybag hanging in there. Boots are tossed in, next. "I could do with a nice hot shower, though," he murmurs to himself, as if debating doing this or crawling straight up to bed, staring at his bathrobe as if it'd have the answers there for him.
If Quinn was blushing a moment ago, all of that colour drains out of her face as she sees Him. The Doctor. Frak. She says nothing a few moments, eyes flickering from the hatch towards the exit for the head. Maybe he hadn't noticed her yet? Could she duck away? Would be notice her going. All these thoughts run a mile a minute through her head, but then she's also being caught in front of her WHOLE squadron here. If they thought she was turning tail… Mentally, Maggie swears, finally giving up as she steps forward… "I'm Captain Quinn. Can I help you?" She gives Evan a briefly envious look. A shower or bed sounds nice right about now.
Hawke smiles. "Captain. A pleasure to see you again. I need to have a word with you in private, if you are available." His smile is pleasant as always, and he nods around. He clearly came in missing the tail end of something interesting. A shame, but if it was interesting enough, it usually ended up in Sickbay, anyway. "Shall we step out into the hall?"
"I can tell you love me already." Juno says to Trask, and stretches out on her bunk. "Go ahead, nobody stopping you, E," she tells the pilot. Hawke's query to Quinn perks her interest, but she's not the sort of nosy that goes sticking herself into things. Except maybe dead people, as rumor would have it.
"Nobody but myself," Evan agrees with Juno in a tone cut out for some television melodrama, lifting a hand to just above his heart for a moment before he peels off his tanks and tosses them after his pants, then tucks thumbs into the waistband of the regulation drab green boxer-briefs he favors and leans down, shoving those off, too, stepping out of them as he turns his neck to eye Hawke and the Cap'n, not interjecting, either, but distracted enough to trip a little over a leghole and stumble a bit before he stands up again, making the save. No falling on his face today.
"I love everyone, sunshine," is Kal's glib retort to Orestes. "You can always fall asleep in the shower, hunny bunny. Don't advise it, but it remains an option." Mmm. Moar nicotine. Errr. Doe's heinie. "Or you could just give us a peepshow." The other conversation idly draws his attention, and he gives Quinn a look that only she would understand. "Actually, doc," the ECO broaches, "that there," cigarette holding hand gesturing towards Evan's behind, causing traceries of smoke, "we've been wonderin' for ages: is that a birthmark or the onset of a melanoma? I worry 'cuz he sits on his ass a lot and I heard it's really bad for cancery bits to get rubbed and stuff." When Hawke turns to look, that's the Captain's cue to run.
Oh, oh, Kal Trask. Just when Maggie is about to throttle him, he does his best to distract the big, terrifying doctor with more interesting issues than the Captain's yearly physical. She picks up on the implications rather fast, nodding, "You know what, Doctor…I do think the LT is right. I've been worried about Bunny for a while, and while you're here…" Let's NOT step out into the hall. Let's not disappear off for gods know what. Hopefully, he'll take the distraction. Meanwhile, Maggie turns quickly in Evan's direction, mouthing a brief 'Sorry!'…
Juno shifts in her berth so that she's half hanging out, and erego lying on her back, her hair drapes a bit on the floor. She gazes up so she's got a view of Bunny's rear. "That's a birthmark," she announces, and then reaches up and gives one cheek a nice little surprisingly motherly patpat.
Hawke smiles kindly. "He'll have to check with our staff oncologist, I'm afraid. Safer for him. I'm a surgeon. When I see something is wrong, I tend to remove it. With knives. We call them scalpels, usually, but really they are just very, very sharp knives." He give Juno a smile and a nod. "Best to be safe, though. I'll tell our oncologist to expect you, just in case. Now, Captain." He turns back to Quinn. "Shall we?"
Evandreus tosses his underpants into the laundry bag once he's securely on both feet again. "You'd rather have the other side, Bootiekins?" he grins, turning about, leaving his bathrobe in the locker. He's never been shy about his body, even if it's not the most military specimen in the bunch, a little pudge around the tummy, a little knobby of knee. And he doesn't seem to mind the patting overmuch, either, though Juno gets a look from over his shoulder. "There's nothing there," he accuses her playfully. "Now, see what you've done, Boots? Just for that, I'm making my Doctor's appointment during my CAP, and you can take a double shift that day," he announces. "Day off of work for getting my butt peeked at by strangers? Sounds like a deal," he gives Trask an impish grin.
Frak. Poor Evan just took one for the team and the team frakkin' struck-out. "Oncologist?" Cue pensive look coupled with pensive drag from his tobacco tube. "Frak," Trask then says, cig still betwixt his lips, head tilting and hands gesturing in a 'silly me' manner. How could he be so mistaken? "Dunno why I was confusin' that with proctologist. Sorry 'bout that, doc. You just come across as someone who's an expert asshole." Feigned wince. "Frak!" Mock dismay. The cigarette nearly falls out of his mouth during his 'contrite' display, but he successfully manages to catch it and withdraw its dwindling mass. "I meant asshole expert. I'm just all kinds of mixed-up tonight, and there's still plenty of work to do." Sheepishly (like a wolf in drag), those big, brown eyes roll in a boyish, guilty-as-charged, oopsie sort of way. "Speakin' of which, the Captain an' I have a meeting on Deck in about 5 minutes to discuss some ECM configurations for the upcoming war games. You're not gonna be long, are ya? CAG's kinda on our asses about it."
Dammit. Maggie gives a brief, long look in the direction of her pilots, as if to say wish her luck, and if she dies because she's gone to see the doctor, put flowers on her grave! She then swallows back, trying to calm her heart galloping in her throat as she heads for the hatch with him. "If…if you insist, doctor…" No turning back. She heads out into the hallway… She pauses, however, just on the edge of the hatch, giving Trask a thankful, if quiet shake of her head. "I might be a bit late for that meeting. Don't worry… I'll make it out okay." Somehow. Unless the doctors kill her.
Juno notes to Bunny, "Don't worry, there's enough there to get a nice sound." Huh? Whatever, crazy (alleged) corpse-frakker. She watches her commanding officer go with a faintly bemused expression. Lady afraid of doctors? Huh. People are wierd. She ohyeahs to Trask, "I heard that some ECOs might be needed to clear some interference on the comm systems regarding that. Did I hear right?"
"It may take longer, now, seeing as to how I'll have to find both a proctologist AND an otorhinolaryngologist for her. SOMEONE has gotta get that nose out of her ass. As you were, she'll be back before too long, I promise." Walking with the Captain to the door, Hawke is careful not share any of her personal information while in earshot of her pilots.
"Just don't make too loud a noise, I still have to sit on that from time to time, y'know," Evan points out, turning back to lean into his locker and grab his bathrobe. "It -is- my very favorite place to sit," he grins over at Bootiekins.
Was Trask just dissed by the doctor? Sure as frak doesn't seem so judging by his demeanor or the faux helpful way he calls out, "I'm pretty sure that's not her ass you're sniffin' 'round, doc. Pull back a few feet and I'm sure the problem will be solved." Too bad he probably wasn't heard. "I guess he'd know about noses and asses, smug frakker with his had shoved up his own ass, drunk off the smell of his own shit." Nonchalance, ye go by the name Bootstrap. Quinn left to fend for herself, attention is shifted to Bunny. "He won't call anyone. Your ass is flawless as Cupid's baby bottom. 'course, maybe he does wanna look like an imbecile." Beat. "Well, more than he already does." As for ECO foo, "You might've. That's somethin' you'll need t'speak with the CAG about." More life is stolen from that cigarette.
"Fair enough," Deep Freeze says contentedly. It appears that the small stuff doesn't seem to make her sweat too much. Until one day it does. "Anybody I ought to really look out for by way of being a real nutbuster?"
Evandreus beams just a wee bit at Trask, and then he's off for the showers. 'Cause. Shower.
Who is a real nutbuster? What other words of wisdom does Bootstrap have to relay? Find out (maybe) during the next episode of 'As the Jerk Burns'!