PHD #197: Going Through Personal Effects
Going Through Personal Effects.
Summary: Allie goes to gather Lauren Coll's personal effects to keep them safe for Constin. In the process, she thwarts plans to burn her bunk and is thwarted herself by MPs who gather Coll's stuff as evidence. (Much thanks to Tillman for NPCing!)
Date: 11 Sep 2041 AE
Related Logs: Coll's death log
Alessandra NPC 
Enlisted Berths
Took place in a TP room. Just pretend it looks like berthings of the enlisted kind.
Post-Holocaust Day: #197

It's midafternoon when Alessandra comes to the enlisted berthings, the time she arrives chosen carefully as she doesn't want to run into any problems like she had earlier. A box is tucked under one arm while her other hand is occupied by a small set of bolt cutters, the latter being something she borrowed from some tool chest or another.

The berthings, for the most part, are quiet upon entrance. But unlike the pilot berthings, this room is rather huge and extends quite a ways through the ship. It might take a bit to find Coll's bunk, but eventually it is found. And when its found, its obvious. There's a pair of enlisted there, standing in front of it. One of them is pouring something onto the bunk from a glass jar. It looks clear from the distance, but the other one seems to be playing with a lighter. Neither of them look like they are terribly happy.

"Do what you have planned and I will see that you wind up hurting," Allie mutters with a shake of her head, her body tensing. She's ready for a fight and she is quick to drop what she has brought with her so she can ball up her fists. "Go on, now. Get the FRAK away from that bed otherwise you'll wind up with a broken nose just like someone else did this morning." She's not amused and not in the mood to deliberate; they will move away from the bed or they'll experience pain and blood loss. It's their choice.

The pair of enlisted look up as soon as they hear Alessandra. Oh shit. Officer. "Cylon Lover!" one of them sneers back at her before they both take off at a trot and run for the other end of the berthings to disappear around a corner, the glass jar nearly emptied when the Lieutenant showed up. For the moment, she's left alone. Most of the bunks appear empty, their curtains left open. There isn't even a trickle of movement from those with closed blinds.

Alessandra takes a moment to just stare at Coll's bed, the waves of anger mingling with a profound sense of loss washing over her again. Shaking her head, she strips the bedding off of the bunk and sets them aside, the accusation that was made not even sinking in. "Okay…" Steeling herself, Allie takes up the bolt cutters and works on the lock, now, the blades clacking noisily against the metal when her hands start to shake.

The sheets stink of moonshine. The sharp, near gasoline scent of it all cuts the nostrils like a razor. It would have gone up like a torch. There's a variety of things on her back shelf and it looks like a few pictures taped to the ceiling. She never had much. But what she had was obviously very treasured. The lock on her locker looks like its been smashed heavily and chiseled at with some crude implements. Trying to open it again with a combination would probably be impossible. Someone looks to have even tried to wedge the top open as the metal is bent outward slightly. But the lock comes off easily enough with a simple cut from the tool Alessandra brought the circular metal object clanks heavily to the floor and just lies there.

The pictures and such that Lauren had taped up and the items lining the shelf is what Allie puts into the box first, each thing not given much of a look, yet. She knows she'll start to cry if she does and she doesn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her do so, especially not the bastards who apparently think so poorly of her friend. Once those things are safely put away she works on the locker, again not paying much mind as to what is put away. Despite her efforts at keeping herself aloof for now a few tears streak down her face. "Not now," she whispers to herself while pausing in what she's doing to wipe them away, her head turned and shoulders used, first left and then the right, those shrugged to do so with.

One of the pictures isn't easy to ignore. That proud photo of her and the Anadyomene team has had its frame smashed against the wall of her bunk. Without a closer look, what has been done to the phot is not apparent. But the faces in the rest of the photos, including Allie's, are recognizable with even the faintest glance. Her locker, though, appears just as it had when she left. Uniforms are hung neatly with all of those 'Airborne' tabs facing outwards. Its probably on purpose. She was so proud of that. There's a picture in the back, taped to the wall, too. Right at eye level. Lauren and Allie are seen from behind in the Ready Room, both their heads bent forward. Considering the manner of dress and date on it.. it had to be that day the Lieutenant gave her a pep talk. Their faces barely visible and canted ever so slightly towards each other. …In the back of the locker on the shelf is a small wooden box with a simple latch. Somewhere behind Allie, a hatch can be heard opening and closing. The sound of heavy boots follows.

Alessandra's resolve is quickly crumbling and the speed she had been packing all of Lauren's belongings falters and then she stops entirely, her face tensing as she regards all of what has happened. Frowning deeply suddenly, she turns quickly upon hearing footfall, fully expecting more troubles. There's nothing said by her, no form of greeting or even a 'what the frak do you want', the defensiveness she has collected about her as well as prudence keeping her from speaking out.

The footfalls approach until they appear around the end of the line of the bunks. Its a pair of Military Police, one a large man and the other a small blonde woman that looks like she carries the entire attitude of the Marine Corps on her shoulders. Both are dressed in their typical duty gear. They slow at seeing Alessandra and glances to each other before redoubling back to their steady cadence of a walk. "Lieutenant Sophronia, step away from the locker, sir," says the Staff Sergeant female. As they approach, the Corporal moves around the other side of the table to stand off to her side.

"I…I'm just gathering her belongings to keep them safe," Allie says while looking first at the MPs and then down, her brow furrowed as she dips her head down. "People were going to set her bed on fire. How about you deal with that while I finish here and we can pretend that I wasn't here?" Unlike those who have been behaving in a manner worthy of a beat down in Alessandra's mind she realizes the MPs are just doing their job which saves them from being threatened by her.

The Staff Sergeant looks nonplussed by the request. "Sir, I won't ask again. I need you to step away from that locker and empty your pockets before the Corporal searches you. Do you have any weapons on you, sir? Anything you want to tell us about that you've taken from Crewman Coll's possessions?" The Corporal motions for Alessandra to move over to a different table and away from the box. Meanwhile the blonde looks into the locker, her face a determined mask. By her tone, she does not seem too pleased with some aspect of this encounter. Maybe one thing. Maybe all of it.

" all in the box…" Allie says haltingly while she staggers to the spot she's told to stand before emptying her pockets, the contents being what one might expect to find - pen, a small notebook, various odds and ends that are hers. As for being in possession of a weapon, the only thing that might be considered as such is the pair of bolt cutters which had been set aside once she was done with them, the cutters well out of her reach now.

There's no answer from the Staff Sergeant. She lets the Corporal search Allie on his own, patting her down and checking her pockets on his own. The woman moves over to the tangle of bedsheets on the deck and gives a cross look as the smell of moonshine hits her nose. A shake of her head later, she takes up the box and begins piling every single thing in Coll's locker into it without much tenderness or care. "Sir, if you had removed this on your own, you would be in deep shit. Way I see it, Lieutenant, you're already in enough of that so consider this a favor we're doing you." The Staff Sergeant and Corporal give the bed and locker another once over - both now completely barren. "You interested in this when the investigation is over? Listed next of kin is Sergeant..Constin." No, the woman does not sound impressed. "If you want it, you're going to have to talk to him, sir." She sounds like she is being nice simply because she has to respect rank.

Alessandra rolls her eyes as the pat-down begins, her arms lifted to shoulder height and held out to either side, the Marine given her full cooperation. "I did it to keep everything safe for Constin. I wasn't planning on hiding or keeping anything, nor was I planning to do anything against regs. I just wanted to keep Coll's personal effects safe for the Sergeant. That is all." Being in potential trouble doesn't faze her in the least, that being the least of her concerns currently. When the SStg says they're doing her a favor she simply snorts lightly, that being the only reaction she feels that is worthy of.

"Yeah, okay, sir." The Staff Sergeant eyes Alessandra one more time and reaches into her gear for a roll of red tape. The Corporal keeps an eye on the Lieutenant while the other woman runs the roll of tape around the seams of the box - the transparent marked in black lettering with the word 'EVIDENCE' repeated over and over. "Thank you for your cooperation, sir. I'm sure we'll be seeing you around." The Staff looks Alessandra up and down once before snapping to the Corporal. The burly man picks up the box and trails off behind the female Marine, their boots loud in the room full of echoes.

"Yup," she says abruptly while watching the MPs finish their jobs, her expression blank. It isn't until they're gone that Alessandra moves, first to put what she removed from her pockets back in them and then picks up the bolt cutters, not wanting those left where people with vendettas can get to them. "Sorry," she says to empty air as she leaves, the pilot feeling defeated.

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