| If It Happens, It Happens |
| Summary: | Evandreus and Devlin discuss religion, sex, and video games. |
| Date: | 13 March 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | None in particular |
| Players: |
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| Observation Deck |
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| Couches and chairs, big windows. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #380 |
Evandreus has put himself away in the corner, down front and far to the port side of the obs deck, where someone has put a little two-seater sofa in the awkward position of staring at a slab of wall from a couple of feet away, rather than having any chance at a window. Evan's in his rose-red scrubs, his flight suit in a duffel down on the floor beside him. On his lap as he sits cross-legged, bare-footed, is a wooden figurine of a man a little too long for his width, gaunt and skeletal, arms folded over his chest and wrapped up, ostensibly, in a funeral shroud, though a translucent, almost skin-tight one, allowing the man's features to be easily seen beneath, including the wicked, bleeding gash on the man's inner thigh. Evan's thumb rolls across the divot of the red-painted gash as he slumps there, head bowed, hair falling in his face.
Devlin has headphones in his ears and a notebook tucked under his arm, pen sticking out of his mouth like a too-long cigarette. He wiggles it absently between his teeth as he heads along the rows of seats in the observation deck, backing up towards the windows to survey his options. While he might also spot the perfect couch to go lounge on, it's Bunny that catches his attention and he heads that way, leaning over to clap the Raptor pilot on the shoulder as he reaches the back of his loveseat. "Hey, Evan," he greets him, tone friendly, even cheerful. He eyes the figurine and asks curiously, "What's that?"
Evandreus jumps a metaphorical ten feet in the air when the hand hits home on his shoulder, body tensing with the surprise and lungs grabbing at air so fast that he inhales a mote of dust and finishes up with a coughing fit. "Gah, Abs, you scared me," he tells him, clearing his throat and then swallowing, then shuffling closer to one armrest so Abs can come take the other seat. "This?" he lifts up the figurine, "It's an icon. It's… for praying," he admits kind of slantedly, as if that certainly wasn't what he was doing with it. "The Adonis Nekros." Adonis, Dead.
Devlin laughs as Evandreus jump and pats him on the shoulder again, saying, "Sorry, man, didn't mean to." He leans over to eye the figurine and then climbs over the back of the couch, sitting on the opposite armrest and eyeing it. "Huh," he replies, shaking his head, "Never heard of that one. What's it used to pray for? All I remember about Adonis is that he was supposed to be really built or something."
"It's for… loss. Aphrodite makes us close to one another, but also makes us vulnerable to the pain of loss. But even Aphrodite isn't immune to her own agonies," Evan explains, gentle-voiced, and then shifts into a slightly more lyrical vocalization, a prayer learned long ago. "I mourn for Adonis— Adonis is dead. Fair Adonis is dead and the Loves are lamenting. Sleep, Cypris, no more, on thy purple-strewed bed, arise, wretch, stoled in black, beat thy breast unrelenting, and shriek to the world: 'Fair Adonis is dead." I mourn for Adonis, the loves are lamenting, he lies on the hill in his beauty and death— the white tusk of a boar has transpierced his white thigh— Kytherea grows mad at his thin gasping breath." Thumb trails the wound in the figures thigh with each line of the verse, either thoughtlessly or deliberately.
"Ahh," Devlin nods, listening as Evan replies and then falling silent as he recites. He props an elbow on a knee and his chin in his hand, fingers drumming absently with the general rhythm of the verse, nodding along. "Kytherea," he says first when the pilot is finished, "Huh. I'd forgotten Aphrodite was Kytherea. Like Kythera on Leonis. Weird. So, is it an anniversary, or something?" he asks, "For you and your fiance, I mean? Or just…remembering?"
"She had a very wide following on Leonis. Especially in Leontinia and Aspasia. Columella means 'City of Doves,' and Thalattra means 'Seafoam,'" Evan explains. Aphrodite's bird, and the material from which she was supposed to be born. "Adonis had a huge cult following there. The real devout in the area believed that Aphrodite took the form of a wild pig and killed her own lover in a sacred grove, where he was resurrected as a god four months later. It's… hopeful, you know? The man is dead, but the god will live forever. It's almost the Adoneia… the… festival celebrating the rebirth of the God Adonis. We used to celebrate it together, Tavi and I," he explains the sudden interest in the idol.
"I didn't realize that," Devlin says of the city-name translations, and then brows rise as Evan goes on, "Really? Wow, I never heard of that at all. Huh." He listens as the pilot goes on, and nods, "Yeah, hopeful. I can see that. Cool," he says, nodding some more, and, "Ahh, gotcha. It's funny," he goes on, "You know, how many different cults and beliefs and things there are everywhere, right? It's funny that anybody ever gets called a heretic, when it seems sometimes like nobody really believes all the same things as anybody else to begin with."
Evandreus gives a full, rich laugh at the observation. "I know, right? I think the definition of a heretic is someone without enough money to make people not care what crazy shit they're into." Leontinia, after all, was one of the wealthiest provinces on Leonis, due to its brisk trade in Aphrodite. And the First Families of Tauron never had any problem with people calling shananigans on them for their particular brand of crazy. But let the poor dirt-chewers on Sagittaron get a hold of any weird belief and Delphi's on them faster than Zeus on a hot chick.
"Yeah, pretty much," Devlin nods, "I mean, nobody can even agree which twelve are the Twelve to begin with," he says, "If even that's never gotten set in stone, then the rest of it should all be fair game, too. I don't get fundamentalists," he admits, "Like I get caring what you believe and feeling strongly about it, sure, but, like… who cares what others believe? So long as it's not, like… I dunno, human sacrifice or something…." He shrugs. "Or at least so long as they're not monotheists, I guess. That stuff gets a little weird, and more now with the toasters, but… yeah," he sort of cuts off his rambling and shrugs, "It's just always seemed weird to me."
Evandreus wriggles his shoulders upward. "There's not a real difference in a lot of monotheist cults. Some people just… choose one god, and ignore the rest. Or, hell, make up their own. It only really matters, the spirit of the thing, you know? If you're using it to better yourself, then, whatevs, good for you, eh? If you're using it to put on airs or put down other people… or kill other people in the name of your own chosen god… well, that's just bullshit."
Devlin nods along with this, brows furrowed thoughtfully, and then agrees, "Yeah, fair enough. Like the monotheists on Tauron, in Knossos. They just sort of combined everybody into Zeus, more or less, or that's how I understood it. I mean, that's not even really that nuts, if you think about it. Like, most of us think of Zeus as being kind of… like the main god, or something?" He gestures vaguely, "Right? So focusing on him isn't that strange. I think, anyway. And yeah, so long as you're not killing people or anything, what's it matter?" He shakes his head a bit, going on, "But so many people don't seem to think of it that way, still. Like the CAG, right?" he glances up at Evan again, "I mean… I don't think she'd be cool with any of that, or the Adonis thing, or anything like it, even if it was harmless and not that strange. We'd still be heretics."
"Exactly. It's not that weird a thing. I guess I can understand there kind of being a witch hunt on for anything that looks vaguely monotheistic," Evan goes on, glumly. "What with the Cylons, and all. It doesn't make any -sense,- of course, but… people are people, no matter what, huh? I don't think there's any talking to Cid about religion. Honestly, I just… don't. There are other, less touchy things to talk about, eh? Though maybe I should. I don't really believe she'd hate on a member of her wing for religious views… do you?"
"I dunno," Devlin admits, head tilting slightly as he considers, another of those frowns forming that indicates he is thinking seriously, "I mean, I don't think hate," he decides, "She let them read the name of a skinjob among the fallen pilots, so… yeah, not hate, but…" He tips his head back and forth a few times, and shrugs, "I think it might change her opinion of somebody? Change whether you're somebody she wants to talk to or not? Not that she really talks to people all that much, but… you know. Sometimes. Every once in a while, she used to."
"I know what you mean. She's been really sweet to me, actually. She could have had my ass for that pill-popping stunt I pulled. I was— actually kind of surprised she didn't," Evan murmurs. "And I think she relly does enjoy being talked to like any other person. Makes her feel less alone, I think. I couldn't imagine living through this with everyone calling me 'sir' and acting like the boss was coming over to dinner every time I came by. I'd like to think if I told her I was an initiate of the God Adonis she wouldn't… change, yanno?"
"Yeah," Devlin agrees with a nod, "I used to think she really didn't like me at all. And I don't think she's, like… thrilled with me lately, exactly. But for a bit there it seemed like we were pretty cool. I'd run into her in the chapel sometimes when she was there and we'd talk. We had a couple pretty decent conversations. She was high," he admits, "But still, right? And yeah, I think she likes getting called by her name. I can see just being the boss all the time really sucking, for sure. It'd be like you're just a job and not a person." He rakes a hand through his hair, and shrugs, "Yeah… I dunno. I'd like to think that, too. But I'll let you be the one to find out," he half-jokes, smiling crookedly.
"Oh, no, after you," Evan replies, an affectation of politeness. "I've put my foot squarely into enough interpersonal relationships recently," he looks bleary-eyed just mentioning it. "Women are weird." Thesis. "I think I should probably stick to dudes," he adds with a vague chortle. "It's weird, though, y'know? It's been so long since I even thought about -maybe- having a relationship again, and suddenly it's like 'You know what'd be nice? Getting laid.' Where the hell did that come from? I mean. Aside from Aphrodite. It's not like… anything I've been interested in in a long time, y'know?"
Devlin chuckles, "Gee, thanks, man." He scratches at his hair again and through it to the back of his neck, brows lifting at Evan's pronouncement. "Women are weird," he agrees, and then his head tilts to listen. At the last, he can't seem to help but laugh, "Dude. Wanting to get laid? Not that weird. Not weird at all. Not wanting to get laid is way less normal. I mean, I get you've been off it because of everything, but just in general, I mean." After a beat, he rewinds, "So, wait. You started hooking up with a girl? Dude, spill."
"Okay… weird for me, then. Just imagine if suddenly you didn't want to anymore," Evan ribs Abs with a smile. "Then you might get a picture of my whatthefrakkery." A deep breath, in preparation for spillage. "Yah. Well. 'Started,' yes. Never finished, though. I won't bandy a woman's name about," he pulls out an archaic bit of propriety that seems weirdly couched in the mouth of a Leontinian. "But she made me feel things, yanno? Usually I'll bunk down with a nice girl and we'll cuddle all night and she'll… you know, understand. She didn't. She… y'know. -Touched- me. Like that. Just about scared the shit out of me, at the start, but— it felt good."
Devlin tilts his head, teasingly thoughtful, frowning like he's having trouble imagining such a thing. "That would be totally frakking weird," he agrees with a nod, "I can't even picture it." At the 'bandying' bit he blinks a little and looks momentarily confused, but lets it go and focuses in on the rest, nodding along. "Huh," he says, "I mean, that's good, right? Like, surprising I get, I guess. Weird that she didn't know. That that's not your usual, I mean. But, like… if you liked it, then…" he shrugs, "That's cool. So, are you gonna keep seeing her?"
"Nah," Evan shakes his head a little. "I mean. Yah, she's still letting me stay in her bunk, but—" he lifts a hand from his lap to scratch at the stubble at his chin. "I totally frakked it up, is all. We were playing around, and… just touching, really. And I started asking her about… y'know. What it meant. If we were a couple. If she liked me, and stuff. It… put her off of it, pretty much. She just wanted a casual thing, without… all that baggage, I guess." A short huff of a laugh, "I still think it's nice to be in love with a person before going all the way, yah? Call me old-fashioned."
"Ahhh," Devlin says, nodding, and then chuckles and admits, "I was gonna say 'oh yeah, that's a classic mistake' or something like that, but… I've only ever seen that happen the other way 'round. Like with the girl being the one who wants to immediately turn it into something, I mean. Sorry." He pushes fingers through his hair again, each pass briefly smoothing his hair down only for it to spring back up as messy as before. He shrugs, "I mean, whatever makes you happy, man. Like… maybe it'd be good to just try something casual? Just to, like… I dunno. Move on? Get over old stuff? But maybe not, I mean, like I said. Whatever makes you happy."
Evandreus gives a long glance to the side, lips twisted a little as Abs puts him in a category with the womens. But he doesn't look mad so much as a little but rueful and a little bit amused. "Maybe. I dunno. I figure, I've waited this long. If it's going to happen again, I may as well do it properly. I think I'll just leave it in the Lady's hands." He looks down to the Adonis figure in his lap. "She brought me back to life twice now. She gave me life when I was dead, and she revived the capacity to love, which was dead in me. Maybe she has a plan in that twisted spirit of hers."
"But how do you know her plan wasn't for you to sleep with this girl?" Devlin asks, "Maybe that's why she put you there and had that happen at all, right? But then you overthought it and so it went off-track. But I guess if that's her plan you'll probably get another shot at it," he muses, "I mean, if that's the way she really wants you to go, it'll come around again and again until it finally works. I think, anyways," he shrugs, and admits, "Psyche and I've talked about that sometimes. Like, there were so many different ways we could've crossed paths, and sometimes should've, over the years. But we never quite did. So we just kept getting put in each other's way until finally we managed to run into each other."
"I don't guess I really know that, one way or the other," Evan will admit, looking down to the wooden Adonis as if the gash in his thigh might have the answers he's looking for. "But if it happens, it happens. If not… I have other things to keep me busy, and no dearth of Cylons trying to send me across the river to Tavi. Maybe she's just getting me ready for him," he smiles broadly at the thought.
"Yeah, if it's meant to happen it will," Devlin agrees (and slightly amends), nodding some more. He glances down at the statue and then nods, "Yeah, not like there's not plenty going on lately. I'm praying this break lasts and they just never come back," he says, "Now that that second foundry thing's spacedust. Hopefully." He touches his chest and the medallions and tags beneath his shirt and then snorts at Evan's big smile. "When I said 'whatever makes you happy' I didn't mean to include dying," he says, "Not cool."
Evandreus's smile duly fades. "I'll get there when I get there. Probably soon enough without my needing to speed things on, and besides—" Evan looks to his side. "I've got a little sister who needs me." Not that the rest of the fleet wouldn't be somewhat put out to lose a Raptor pilot, now that they're not exactly something you can pick up at the corner store a dime a dozen. But that little person that slipped out of Maggie's bits has quite the hold over him. "Yah, hopefully we can have a little downtime. I know I could use it. What about you, what's first on your list of stuff to do when we go onto Condition Three?"
"Yeah, no need to hope it comes any sooner," Devlin replies, "Not worth fixing on, I think. Better to just ignore it. I mean, who knows. We've lasted this long, we might make it out of this alive yet. You never know." He shrugs, and then scratches at his cheek and considers, "Man, I dunno. Probably head over to the freighter? Get a drink, wander around the hydroponics a bit, just chill? Sleep? Sleeping a lot would be up there."
"I need to head over there, myself. I might see if I can bum a taxi shift off of someone to just be over there for a little while, see the Evans," Evan sighs. "Hey, do you know Paul? He's a medic," Evan goes on, since Paul isn't that odd of a name. "He and I were talking about heading over to the bar once we're let. Why don't we make a guy's night of it?"
"Paul?" Alex tilts his head thoughtfully and then shakes it, "I dunno. I don't think so? What's his last name?" he asks. At the offer, he nods, "Sure, I'd be up for that sometime. I've got so many vouchers stored up by now I might as well be at the bar every night anyways," he jokes.
Evandreus has to think about that one for a moment, tipping his chin up and trying to envision the name stitched onto the guy's scrubs. "McManus," he finally comes up with it. "Big, sporty guy. And heh, tell me about it. Before this I was off liquor for six months while my liver was in recovery. I got one good drink in between them clearing my liver for active duty and us going on Condition Two."
"McManus," Devlin echoes as if it sounds familiar, and then the description helps, "Oh! Yeah, I have met him, actually. He did some of Psyche's PT after the last round of shrapnel," he says, "Good guy, I liked him. Yeah, we should all hang out, that'd be cool. We should have a party," he suggests, "A Condition Three party. And do Carrier Landings and stuff and make up for all our lost drinking time."
"Sounds like fun. Then we could stumble back here and play video games or something," Evan smiles, then, smile twisting, "Ugh, nevermind. I think I may actually be too sick of seeing people shoot at things to want to play any video games. But hit the bar, definitely. Who else do you think would come out?" he wonders. "We could check out Colonial's Pete's poledancing talent," he adds with a grin. "If Bubs wouldn't mind, too much," he goes on to add.
"There are video games that don't have shooting," Devlin reminds, "There's a copy of Pro Pyramid '41 in the rec room. But yeah, for sure the bar. I mean, I bet there'll be a ton of people up for it," he says, "Who won't want a drink, right?" As for the poledancing he laughs and nods, "We can, for sure. Nah, Psyche wouldn't mind. If she did it'd just be because she'd be sorry she missed out."
"Oh, sweet. It's like Pyramid, but without all the running around and getting sweaty," Evan grins. "We can make a tournament of it. Winner drinks free. Or… winner buys the drinks," he turns it around with a snicker. "I guess Bubs could come, if she wanted. But it'd kind of take the guys' out of the guys' night. Not that I mind. I'm not sexist or anything."
Devlin laughs, "Yeah, basically. It's a good game, they really stepped up the graphics from the 2040 version and they fixed how they calculated takeaway stats, which is nice, way more realistic. Anyway," he cuts off what could clearly become a longer speech about video game mechanics, "Nah, she can go with the girls if she wants, and she and I'll go just us at some point, anyways. She's friends with some of the girls, so I'm sure she'll want to go say hi. Anyway. Yeah, that'd be fun."
"Did they? Crap," Evan offers, though he hardly sounds actually displeased. "I remember I used to trigger south about a second before the takeaway, it looked silly as crap on screen but it skewed the takeaway numbers in your favor, like, seven to one," Evan remembers fondly. He definitely likes breaking games more than playing them. Or, at least, his definition of 'playing' one is slightly skewed. "We should totally give the game a go if we don't get out of Condition Two soon. We can play in our flight suits and it's just a jump up the stairs if the Cylons ring the bell."
Devlin laughs. "Cheater!" he accuses, "Taking advantage of it. But yeah, if you hit B-B-B-B real fast right before you jumped in the '39 version it was a guaranteed block. They fixed that, too. They're pretty good about blocking those loopholes. Anyway, yeah, we should play," he agrees, "I've got to get to an alert shift in not too long, but sometime soon."
"We'll play soon," Evan smiles softly, leaning over to nudge at Abs' shoulder with his shoulder in an affectionate gesture. "And I'll let you know how it goes with Cid," he adds. In terms of telling her about Adonis, he means. Hopefully Devlin will pick up on that and not assume that he's referring instead to his random adventures in switching teams.
"Sounds good," Devlin agrees. He blinks for a second at what seems like a non-sequitor, but then gets it, "Oh, yeah, about the religion stuff. Ha. Yeah, you know, if you end up mentioning it, I'd be curious to hear how it goes. Anyways, I should get going," he says, "But I'll see you soon for our pyramid showdown," he grins, "Take care, E." He gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder and then slides to his feet to head off.