PHD #472: Delivery Service
Delivery Service
Summary: With Mathers MIA, Ginny hauls his laundry to the SecHub. Lunair and Samuel see to it that the XO's stuff gets placed in his office.
Date: 13 Jun 2042 AE
Related Logs: Done Right (Mathers asks Ginny to watch his laundry) & Done Wrong (what happens when Mathers fails to collect his clothes)
Ginny Lunair Samuel 
Security Hub - Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus
More than just an office for the Marines and their XO, this room has remote surveillance views of the Brigs as well as a state of the art communications center built into the far bulkhead. A locked and heavily armored door to the aft leads into another room, the white lettering on it reading 'ARMORY.' There are a few desks scattered around the room for getting necessary paperwork done and the Commandant's picture hangs on the wall next to one of the President.
Condition Level: 3 - All Clear
Post-Holocaust Day: #472

It's been several hours since Major Zane Mathers of the First Battalion Ninth Marines asked one Miss Ginny Juniper Wells to mind his laundry while he handled an errand. During that time, she not only finished washing, pressing, and folding her cousin Burke's clothes, she also managed to share a meal with said cousin and even taught him how to fold his t-shirts in the quick and tidy way they do in laundromats. If that were not enough, the young woman even took it upon herself to put the CMC XO's garments into a drier when he didn't show at the wash cycle's end, and then with the same fastidious care she did for her kinsman, the Major's laundry was likewise crisply ironed, neatly folded, and packed. Twenty minutes later, she was shouldering that filled to the brim sack that is easily half her size, and trekking from Deck Three to Deck Four because that's where there be Marines.

Oh XO. Lunair is manning the hub today, humming as she sets the coffee machine back anew. It brews, bubbling happily. She resumes her seat then, reading a one of the myriads of manuals for MPs. The violet-eye Marine also finally has hair again. Horray! She looks up, watching people come and go quietly. She seems pleased enough. For now, things are fairly quiet.

Samuel is present in the hub as well, muttering something under his breath as he gets through some paperwork. Keeping quiet for now as he works, although he has a tendency to tap the table with the pen, a bit absently.

Although not really teeny even were she not currently wearing boots with two-inch heels, Ginny nonetheless is a slip of a thing, built like a sylph. And while lugging around so much laundry in one go is easy enough for someone like Mathers, she's somewhat plodding along, more than a bit hunched over while she walks so that she can maintain her balance while carrying so much weight. When she finally reaches the SecHub, she eases the bag down so as to not wrinkle all the work she'd done, and exhales a well-earned, "Whew!" It's breath-catching time.

Two-inch heels on stairs? Yikes. Lunair blinks, craning her neck as the laundry and a Ginny come around the corner. "Hello there. Do you need a hand?" She greets the woman politely. If nothing else? Lunair has a distant, polite - nearly regal sort of bearing. Likely the product of some horrifically upperclass upbringing. Her purple eyes are on Ginny for now, peering over. She glances to Samuel, but for now, she's distracted.

Samuel blinks a bit as he sees the arriving laundry and Ginny. "There's a laundry delivery service in place now?" he asks while raising his eyebrows for a few moments. Tapping and the paperwork forgotten right now.

Whereas Lunair is nearly regal, the newly arrived honey blonde is all down-home charm. "Why, howdy," she greets in a pleasant tone and with an amiable smile, even though she's still a bit winded. "Ah hope that y'all are farin' well." Regaining her poised posture, Ginny starts to smooth out and readjust the fabric of her dress' tulip drape skirt. "Why, yes, if you'd be evah so kind, ma'am," she responds to the inquiry about help. "Might you be able to tell me where Ah might find Mayjuh Zane Mathuhs, Ex-Oh of the First Battalion Ninth Marines?"

To Samuel's quip, she banters back, "Only insofah that Mistah Zane nevah returned fo' th' items he entrusted to me." Warm brown eyes narrow for a moment to make out the pins on the man's lapel, and then there is another moment where she tries to recall just what rank they represent. "Sergeant."

Then, remembering her manners, she adds, "Mah apologizes. Ah'm Miss Ginny Juniper Wells." Although the middle name is pronounced at joo-nih-puh. One hand is offered in greeting to the nearest of the two marines.

Lunair smiles faintly. "That we are. Thank you for asking. How are you?" She asks in turn. She pauses as the woman readjusts a moment. "Hmm. I think he's busy at the moment," She stands and glances around. "But I can take you to his office door and we can set the laundry down there," She offers. "Or the berthings." A nod. She looks to Samuel, amused. "Don't fret. I lose my manners too," She offers. Her own accent might be that somewhere on Canceron. She carefully accepts the hand, not wanting to be overly rough. "I am Lieutenant Raine Lunair. It's a pleasure to meet you. Are you a friend of the XO's?" Headtilt.

Samuel chuckles a little bit as he hears that, "Ah… A pleasure to meet you, Miss Wells. Sergeant Samuel Blaine here." Looking between the others for the moment, he nods a bit at the part about the office door. "Knew we should have put some kind of tracking device on the Major," he comments, a bit lightly.

Those unfamiliar with the touchy-feely nature of Thalesians might find it odd that Ginny claps Lunair's offered hand betwixt the both of hers and holds it for longer than most people would. "Well met, Miss Raine." Head turns to Blaine. "Mistah Samuel." Her hands seek his out next. Even so, she answers the El-Tee's question. "Ah reckon that if'n that would suit him jus' fine, it'd suit me jus' fine." She certainly seems the sort who'd befriend just about everyone.

Lunair pauses. "Oh no, a tracking collar would just clash with his attire," she shakes her head. She might be surprised, perhaps, by the held hand for just a moment but she doesn't seem too startled. She nods. "Sure, it should be fine. If he fusses, he can blame me," Lunair waves a hand dismissively. She did, after all, suggest it. "Right this way. I can watch his office from my desk anyhow, so it will be safe. Then it's off to my plants." She seems pleased by this routine. She looks to Samuel and Ginny. With that, she will lead Ginny to the XO's office to set his laundry safely and gently within.

Samuel shakes the offered hand, pausing for a few moments at that held hand part. Nodding a little bit as he listens to both of them, he chuckles a bit at the part about the collar clashing with the attire. "I'll take your word for it, sir," he offers, before he glances back to the pen and paper in front of him for a few moments.

"If'n y'all think that would be the best place for his things, aw'right." Fortunately for her, (1) the XO's office is not up another flight of stairs, and (2) dragging the bag across the flat surface of the floor will cause less wrinkles than trying to shoulder the oh so stuffed sack. "Now, in case he asks, the thickest garments are on the bottom, goin' upwards to his t-shirts, tanks, draw'rs, an' socks." The holes in the lattermost items have all been neatly mended with canary yellow thread. "P'haps Ah should write him a small note to let him know." Which is less of a musing and more of a modest way of requesting pen and paper.

"Well. It strikes me as better than stuffing it on his bunk," Lunair admits. She looks thoughtful. She does nod as she listens. "Thank you," she murmurs. "Ah!" With that, and in an alarmingly fast speed, she slips a pad of post-it notes from her sleeve and a pen. "I always keep these." Alas, poor Lunair. If one looks, they might see the corners of said post-its along her sleeve insides… poor, poor Lunair. "It's very kind of you to do this for him."

"Especially if someone might be going for some kind of prank at his expense," Samuel adds after a few moments. Hearing that mention of pen and paper, he reaches for the pen in front of him and some paper, but stops as he sees Lunair has that covered. Nodding at the Lieutenant's words.

"S'a least Ah can do fo' someone who helped bring home mah cousin." With the procurement of post-its and pen, Ginny pauses her advance towards the XO's office. "Thank you kindly, Miss Raine," she genially smiles, taking the offered items.

In an artful, sweeping script, she: (1) explains how the contents of his bag have been arranged; (2) relays how his heavily stained brown pants needed some further hand washing at the left knee despite having been pre-treated and washed; (3) gently chides the man for not taking better care of his clothing; (4) reveals that the holes in his socks were stitched with canary yellow thread because she thought he'd prefer it to fuchsia or lilac or robin's egg blue, which were the only other colors she had with her at the time; (5) offers to re-mend said socks with a different color, should he so wish; and (6) thanks him again for helping to bring home her beloved cousin. All of which requires writing on both sides, and is signed Miss Ginny Juniper Wells.

"We're all y'all among those who boarded the Areion, too?" Warm brown eyes lift from the finished writing to look at the duo.

"Glad to help, and just Raine is fine. My husband and I hyphenated our last names but I find most people remember Lunair better. We used to have the same rank…" And one can imagine the havoc of two people with the same rank and last name could play. Lunair is quiet as she stands by, watching people come and go. She's dutiful if nothing else. She nods slowly at Ginny. "Yes, I was among them. I got shot up pretty well and was bald … again." Sigh. "But I am glad we came out of it on top, though my heart is heavy for those lost due to a wantonly cruel, stupid mutiny." This troubles Lunair deeply. She nods at Sam.

Samuel nods a little bit at the part about the Areion. "Was there, as some kind of bullet magnet," he replies, a bit lightly. "But at least we survived, and the moron was stopped, right?"

Just Raine may be fine for Lunair, but everyone in Thales who isn't kin is addressed as Mister or Miss… when not being called 'shug' or 'hon' or something else along those lines. "Well, bless your heart, Miss Raine," the other woman softly exclaims, her tone equally that of 'you poor dear' and 'thank you with all my being'. "An' you too, Mistah Samuel. Ah ever do so much appreciate all y'all've done. Ah do not at all doubt that Ah never would've seen mah cousin Beau again were it not for y'all an' the Fightin' Fo'teenth. If evah there's somethin' Ah might be able to do for either of you, please don't hesitate t' let me know." Which she truly means.

That said, Ginny hands back the pen and post-its to Lunair and goes about opening Mathers' bag so she can carefully place the missive inside. That done, she pulls the drawstring closed and asks, "Which way… an' no one will muss with his wash, Ah hope." Seeing how pranks were mentioned.

Aw. Lunair looks touched and smiles. She accepts her pen and post-its back. She seems a bit sad. "I am … glad we got him back," she nods. "He seems like a good fellow," With the tone that Lunair is unfamiliar with him, but willing to believe he's a good dude. "Fret not, I do alright. I tend to the herbs in the closet, though all of the food hydroponics and many of the herbs went to the Elpis. I trust Miss Rose very much, though." She seems a bit sad at the loss of her garden but at the same time, there's a faint hint of happiness. All those civvies with jobs now. "Here's the office." She carefully opens the door. "We can set the stacks of laundry on the chairs instead of the floor," she nods. "I doubt it. It would be rude to go into his office for no reason without him here," Which neatly excludes /them/, of course. "I am honored to meet someone so nice, though." She really is.

"Oh, but he is," Miss Wells insists about her cousin Burke. "Bumblebee is one of the finest fellas one could evah hope t' meet." Spoken with familial affection and the kind of pride that comes from knowing one's kin are good people. "Herbs in the closet? You mean the medicinal plants? An' Miss Rose is good people," she agrees. The bag is carefully dragged to the office, carefully hoisted over the hatch lip, and carefully set back down. "T'might slump off the chair. T'would be bettah to rest it against the desk." As for being honored, the blonde sounds more mirthful. "Honored? To meet li' ol' me? Well, arn'choo sweet," is smiled. "'Tis mah honor, really, to have come to know so many brave men an' women. You do us all a service with your service."

Lunair nods. She seems to be glad to listen. "Perhaps I'll run into him sometime," Lunair smiles. She seems happy for Ginny, despite her quietly polite demeanor. She tilts her head. "Mmhm. I started the hydroponics when I brought fruit bonsais on board. Truth be told, I can't /stand/ the canned fruit here. Cannot." She wrinkles her nose. "And alright," She trusts judgment on where to leave the laundry. "So now I just run the medicinal herbs and Miss Rose takes care of the rest with the civilians. I still have my itty bitty trees too." Her eyes are bright. "And of course. You're very kind. But thank you."

"Well, Ah have yet anothuh reason to thank you, then. Were it not for you, t'wouldn't be possible to make some of mah balms an' salves." And with some final adjustments, the laundry bag is nicely nestled. "You are not lackin' in kindness yourself, Miss Raine. Ah right appreciate you assistin' me in gettin' Mistah Zane's garments back to him. Much obliged, ma'am." The genial smile never wavers. "Ah shan't take a moment more of your time." Lunair has plants to get to, after all.

"Oh?" Lunair tilts her head. "I am glad to help. Please feel free to visit then. If you can't find me here, I might be off bothering my husband or plants," she smiles faintly. She nods and will close the door behind Ginny. "It's nothing. I am sure he appreciates you doing them." She seems unused to this much good manners! The Canceron woman waves. "You're hardly taking up my time. It was a pleasure to meet you. Be well and stay safe."

"Ah just might," Ginny says, regarding the invitation. "Ah admit to missin' growin' mah own plants an' herbs." And since good manners for a departing Thalesian involves more clasping of hands, that's just what she seeks to do before offering a finger wave. "You take care, now, Miss Raine." And thus she departs, leaving good will and the faint scent of pleasant perfume in her wake.

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