| I've Been Where You Are |
| Summary: | Temperance and Quinn find out just how much they have in common. |
| Date: | March 30th, 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Running Out Of Air |
| Players: |
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| Fire & Munitions - Deck 5 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| The floorplating along the corridors of the Cerberus are standard military. Their forged steel plates are welded seamlessly together to run nearly the entire length of each hallway. The hallways themselves are the typical load-bearing structural design of the angled quadrilateral. Oxygen scrubbers and lighting recesses are found at nearly perfect intervals throughout the angled passageways. |
| Condition Level: 3 - All Clear Post Holocaust Day: 32 |
Temperance is wandering aimlessly down the corridor, the same small blanket she's been carrying around for days wrapped around her shoulders once more. She shivers as she goes, biting her lip and alternately staring off into space and staring down at her shoes, focusing on putting one in front of the other. Huge dark circles around her eyes, her hair in a heap on her head, she looks like she hasn't slept or eaten in days.
Quinn has not been well herself. First the forced medical leave, then days of hiding in her bunk or the sims, not talking to anyone, just shutting down. It wasn't healthy for her and, more so, it wasn't healthy for her squadron. Fortunately, she had a wonderful man who she barely saw in the shadows dig her out of that pit, and now it was her time to be den mother. To remember her job, her TRUE job… which was taking care of her people. There was one at the top of her list, and just freshly showered immediately post-CAP, she's been hunting down Temperance ever since. It's taken a bit of time, but finally she catches sight of that shadows…"Ensign…." Maggie's voice calls down the hall, a strange little lilt to it, when normally she has a flat, clipped Caprican accent.
Temperance slowly turns at that, an eyebrow arching in interest. Someone calling, for her? Catching sight of Quinn, she weakly reaches up to salute, calling out with a rough voice, "Sir?" But she still looks around for someone, anyone else of her same rank that the SL could be yelling for.
Quinn steps immediately over to her, and her walk isn't professional, cold or unhappy. She almost looks like she should be holding out her arms to embrace the woman, that sort of warmth in her gait, but she holds back from doing it. "…Just Maggie is fine… I'm going to put this conversation off the record, okay?" She murmurs gently, her lilting Aerilon voice all warmth and protectiveness. Almost like she should be someone's mother.
Temperance eyes her warily for a moment, before nodding her head and replying, "Aye. Though I don't righ'ly know wha' ya need ta do tha' fer." Her voice is rough, either from long periods of crying, or disuse. And her tone is flat, with no emotion in her inflection.
Quinn leans against the wall gently, right next to Temperance but not quiet invading her space yet. "Because if I leave it on the record, they might have to ground you.. like they grounded me three weeks ago. And I don't want that to happen to any of my pilots but… you're not yourself. And I'm worried. I'm sorry I didn't come forward sooner… I… I haven't been myself either… but… Talk to me, Temperance. Here, we can go anywhere… or just sit in the corner and talk. but you can't keep hiding away like this."
Temperance stares at her, and shrugs weakly. Quinn's from Aerilon, maybe she'll understand. "They're in th' mines on Aerilon," she starts, deciding to give her the abridged version those in her bunk weren't lucky enough for. "M'family. They're in th' tunnels, starvin' an' suffocatin'. Runnin' outta air. So, no. Ain't m'self."
Quinn's accent is thick enough that she sure as hell probably does understand, though the northern province lilt to her voice is unmistakable. As she hears those words, something in her heart just breaks, understanding and pain flooding across her face as she just reaches out for the woman. "Aye… mine are… were… farmin' up north… probably were fine for a few weeks…but winds and radiation…" Maggie just shakes her head and, if Tempe permits, she pulls her into that embrace she avoided before.
She lets Maggie hug her, but she doesn't hug back. Temperance just stands there, stiff and unmoving, though she does lean her head on the other woman's shoulder. "When trouble comes ta th' town, everyone allus runs ta th' mine tunnels an' stays there. S'wha' they'd do. But wi' radiation an' maybe Cylons…yeah. They couldn't come ou'. Probably runnin' outta food an' air jus' 'bout now. An' I can feel it in m'bones."
Quinn keeps her arms tightly around Temperance, rubbing the woman's back gently, warmly, giving all the support she can whether it's returned or not. "Yes… I know… but…they're smart. They'll survive as… as long as they can. And we can't go back…Gods, I wish we could, but we can't. There is nowhere to hide near Aerilon. We'd draw attention to them more than anything… "
"My father an' older brothers are gonna shoot themselves ta give th' rest more air," Temperance says, bluntly. "I can see all'a it. An' while they can't eat, I can't 'old anythin' down. They can't get warm, an' no matter how many 'ot showers I take, blankets I cover up wi', I'm still cold." She blinks a few times, tears falling straight from her eyes. Silently, with no sobs, no change in her voice. "Long as I know they're slowly dyin', it's like I can't do nothin' else."
Quinn reaches her fingertips up, slowly beginning to stroke down through Temperance's hair, letting the woman lean a bit deeper against her if she will. "What would your family want, though? Think about that… truly do. Would they want you to survive, to carry on their name, to be strong? To live to maybe fight back one day?…or just to waste away yourself, just as you fear they are…" She whispers against Temperance's temple, not letting go in the least, letting those tears fall onto her sweat shirt clad shoulder.
"I'll be okay, once I know they're gone," Temperance explains with a sigh. "S' my…vigil. M'memorial. It's m'body, it's in m'skin, it's th' air I'm breathin'. Ta do anythin' else righ' now, ta sleep warm an' eat lots, jus' feels disrespectful. Like I don't cherish i' enough." She pulls her head back and glances to Quinn, searching the other woman's face for some kind of understanding, some kind of sign that this time, this one isn't going to try and talk her out of this too.
Quinn stares into Temperance's eyes, a slightly deeper frown crossing her lips. "Is that truly what they would want? You are unhealthy like this, dear… a risk to yourself. A risk to your crew… Do you truly think you are up to flying? Look me in the eye and tell me you're reaction time is what it would be if you were well slept and fed. Then tell me that your family wouldn't care about that." A hint of that hard, spare the rod, spoil the child attitude comes into her eyes, all Aerilonian in nature.
"Considerin' th' most'a them do most everythin' half drunk, m'thinkin' they'd be proud," Temperance replies with a snort, but at least there's a touch of humor there for a moment. She takes a small step back, not enough to be shitty, just enough for the hug to be over. "I'm sleepin'. Jus' not so well. I'm flyin' m'CAPs, but stayin' outta big missions. An' iffn ya want ta pull me off duty, s'okay. I understand. I jus' need a week, anyways. It'll be done in a week." She looks up, and her eyes say, they'll be dead in a week.
Quinn pulls back just enough she can study Temperance's eyes, her hand coming up to gently cup the woman's cheek, just considering. "This is a choice you need to make. But your squadron is here for you. I'm here for you… and I don't think anyone would want their family in pain, their family risking other people's lives. They love you. I do not know you well, but I love you. -We- are family now. We are Harriers. And we take care of each other… our families… they are back there, and have to take care of themselves. Mine included. This is family now."
Temperance looks back at Quinn, but she's not really seeing her. Not clearly, entirely. "I jus' need bit'o time," she half-pleads. "Iffn' ya don't want me ta fly fer a week, I'm okay wi' tha'. Jus' please don't try ta feed me, an' please don't try ta cheer me up, an' please don't try ta get me ta see th' doc fer somethin' ta help me sleep. Jus' lemme work it out in m'own way, yeah?"
Quinn frowns quietly, her brows furrowing. She doesn't know what more to say or do. She just leans up, kissing the woman's forehead. "…"I'll check on you in the morning." She whispers gently, before stepping back, at least letting the young pilot go on her way, as maggie stands there is confused indecision.