PHD #030: Meet Cute?
Meet Cute?
Summary: Marko and Lunair meet again in the ship's laundry. Looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship!
Date: 28 MAR 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Lunair Marko 

[ Laundry Room ] [ Deck 3 - Battlestar Cerberus ]
Post Holocaust Day: #29

Industrial washers and dryers line each side of this elongated room, which typically has personnel moving in and out all day and night. These front-loading systems are designed to withstand the rigors of a military beating and still function as expected. A sturdy set of counters run the length of the room for crew members to fold their own laundry and dress and pins or patches before and after the process.

[ Condition Level: 2 - Danger Close ]

Whistling contentedly to himself, Marko dumps the contents of a bulging laundry bag onto the counter and begins to separate its contents. Fortunately, this being the Colonial Fleet, it doesn't take long if one doesn't bother too much with civilian clothing. For all its drudgery, Marko actually looks rather pleased at this duty.

Even after you get shot in the face, laundry don't stop! Lunair is herself off-duty although she compliments her garb with a midnight blue scarf tied about her hair. She walks in with her laundry bag all filled up and a little bottle of soap. Hooray! She doesn't seem to mind it, but her course takes her rather close to Marko. "Oh hey."

"Heya, Ell-tee." Marko replies with a smile and a polite nod as he starts stuffing blue colored dressy-looking uniform bits into the nearest washer. "So, how's it feel to be back on duty, sir?"

Lunair smiles back. "It beats sitting around contemplating I suppose, and hearing the Staff Sergeant grumble," A shrug at that. She is washing … more personal items, like green blouses. She shoves them in fast. "How are you today?" She looks over to Marko.

"Eh, tired." Marko replies, measuring out some laundry detergent and chucking it into the machine. "Kinda goes without saying, with out schedule, sir." he adds. "They made flying CAP so…glamorous in school…lying frakkers." he smirks impishly. "Taken off so many times now, I hardly notice when we're skids up anymore."

"I see, that's very rough," Lunair comments quietly. "Just be sure to tell someone if you're too tired to fly. I'd feel bad if I had to requisition a spatula to scrape you off the side off the Cerberus," She wrinkles her nose and grins. "And I think about half of that went over my head. I'm a boring old ground pounder. And yes, they make that sound glamorous too. They don't tell you about the getting shot in the face part."

"No, sir. Think they tended to edit out all of the less glorious bits of everybody's job, sir." Marko replies, switching the machine on and closing the door. "Makes sense, you think about it. How else are they gonna get us to do 'em?" he chuckles. "How are you feeling, though?" he asks, looking concerned..

"I don't know about that," Lunair admits quietly. "You'd be surprised how many people dream of flying or protecting their homes, you know?" She shrugs and hurriedly stuffs in unmentionables before pouring in some soap. "I'm… well, I'm fit for duty I guess. They say the hard part is going out there the first time. I think it will kill me a little bit inside each time if something happens to those I lead, but I suspect I'd worry more if I ever stopped feeling about it. That's kind of a psychic infodump isn't it?" Her eyebrows lift. "Are you doing alright?"

"Actually, If I may be so bold, I think that's how you're supposed to feel, sir." Marko replies with a nod. "It makes you better at the job, even though it hurts you. Means you're a lot more careful with the lives of those you're leading." he adds. "Eh, I'm hanging in there. Good thing about being short handed and overworked is that there's _always_ a distraction when you feel like you're about to explode." he smiles wearily. "You can just put it all out of your mind and concentrate on something else you can do something about. Sir."

"I suspect you are right," Lunair smiles sadly and replies. She takes a deep breath. "I suppose that's true too," She shrugs. "I am glad I can at least tend to my plants sometimes." This pleases the dorky marine immensely. "You don't have to call me sir off duty, y'know." She finally adds. She closes the lid and looks to him. "It's true."

"Heh, right, sorry." Marko chuckles, blushing a little. "After last night, I'm trying to mind my P's and O's." he smirks. "The big slab of my ass the CMO tore off last night's starting to grow back. Kind of anxious to let it, ya know? I sit on it a lot, and all." he chuckles. "What kinda plants do you have, Lt?"

"That's alright," Lunair smiles at him. Then she giggles a little. "Yeah, I know. I think she's a bit stressed out. Marines are terrible patients. We always want out," She notes. "And I heard it's been a rough time on her," She shrugs. "I don't bite though, at least - not on a first date because I am a gentlewoman and a scholar." Strike a British pose! that's obviously a joke. She smiles. "Little bitty trees. The ones I have provide berries and tiny citruses. I'm hoping we can grow our own food over time."

"Heh, it's the training. You're hard-wired to wanna walk it off." Marko teases gently. "Arm's off? Ha! It's a flesh wound! Staple it back on! I can still play football….although not goalie."

A soft laugh at that. "It's probably true. I was going batty just laying there while everyone was working," Lunair admits, smiling faintly. "I just guess I am determined." A shrug at that. "Oh well. After seeing the CMO like that though, I don't know." Her eyes widen a bit. "Do you do anything like tend plants?"

"Heh, from what I saw, she'd probably be happy to sterilize the staple gun herself." Marko chuckles softly. "And criticize you silly for your technique." he adds, miming using his right hand to staple his left arm back on. "You're doin' it wrong, son!" he says, trying to imitate her voice. "Plants? Eh…No, honestly, not so much. I have Black Thumb. Any plant I touch dies, cursing me to the plant Gods as it passes." he sighs, hanging his head in mock shame. "When I die, I am soooo screwed."

"Probably," A little smile. From the looks of things, Lunair is figuring Marko is utterly hilarious and adorable. She really has a bad poker face off duty. A head tilt. "Oh? No, I think they'd be glad you at least gave it a try," She offers. "Do you like to read or anything?" Hmm. She puts a hand on her chin, considering it.

"Yeah, I read some..not a lot, but some. Don't really care too much what it is outside of tech stuff. Anything to keep my brain active's enough for me." he nods. "You?" Marko, for his part, is either clueless to a spectacular degree, or gay, because he's not catching any of this just yet. Hint, he's probably not gay. "Cause if you are, the deck gang's got some _choice_ smutty romance novels if you're into that kinda thing."

"I see," Lunair replies. A head tilt. And sadly, Lunair's last date was a fruit. Literally. A. Date. She pauses, then blushes. "I'll have to remember that if I ever get the urge to read it. Though I have to talk to you more often," Nod. Getting there. Slowly. Like a geriatric turtle on a salt mud road in December. "I've been meaning to check out the library too," She considers. "What kind of tech stuff though?"

"Computers." Marko replies, peering at Lunair curiously for a moment. "Once upon a time, I was big, big _big_ into them. So big, matter of fact, I could've been sent to prison." he smirks, checking the timer on his first load. "Long story…ending's not so happy." he sighs, shaking his head a little. Sadface.

Lunair peers back at Marko in turn. Although it must be infinitely stranger, given her eye color. She widens her eyes a bit and frowns. Cautiously, she offers to pat his shoulder, her hand hesitating. "I'm sorry. That's really rough." She doesn't seem to think less of him for it though. "for what it's worth, you seem like a sweet person and I like to talk to you," She offers. "I almost got set on fire because someone thought I was a witch. Too bad, I could use some weird powers."

"Okay, now _that_ story requires some further information." Marko says, brows sliding upwards slowly. "And thanks, eh…" Okay….enter the most awkward phase of this conversation…."My apologies, LT, I'm not sure I know your name." he says, turning a lovely shade of hot pink from head to foot. Yeah, Marko's got game….like a quadriplegic. "Mine's Marko." he says, offering his hand.

"Well. See." She points to her eyes. "I have a bit of a defect I guess. My eyes are a weird color, which apparently means I curse cattle, small children and generally pop out of bushes at people," She tilts her head at Marko. Then a blush. Oh right. That's important too. "… nor I yours." She presses her fingertips together. It's like a game of chicken but with being nice. She pauses at that. "I'm Raine Lunair. But Ray is fine, or Lu." A shrug, a smile and she carefully accepts his hand. "Nice to meet you again, this time with less fear for our lives. She seems very kind though. I bet she was just stressed."

"I like your eyes." Marko replies, then does the whole 'cooked shellfish' routine again. "They're….the color's nice." He manages to eke out. DRADIS contact! Attractive female at bearing 000 carom 000!, his own rather nondescript blue eyes seem to say. "Nice to meet you, too." he says, managing to give the Marine a handshake that doesn't make him seem like a complete wuss.

"Really? Thanks," Smile. "They're kind of scary I guess," Lunair blushes herself. It's like the greeting ritual of two mantis shrimps. But fortunately, shreemps are pretty cute right? Or at least, kind of hilarious in the end. "I guess superstition can be kind of odd." She smiles at the handshake. She seems hesitant, as if getting too close might cause Marko to bolt under the washer. She might be used to being seen as scary or something. A pause. "Have you been to the library yet?"

"Hm?" Marko asks, realizing suddenly that he's been looking at Lunair's aforementioned ocular sensors longer than he intended. "Odd? It can be flat-out frakking insane most of the time." he half-chuckles, half sighs, shaking his head a little. "Library? Yeah, a few times. They did a great job with it. Good thing too." he adds, then bites his bottom lip as he realizes the potential context that could be taken in.

This provokes another blush. But in fairness, she DOES have an odd eye color. She smiles at him and peers over. Lunair considers him a moment. "They did, I like the books a lot." It seems she might get at the context a bit, but it is a truth. Either way, she doesn't seem offended. There is a cautiousness, the sort of cautiousness one takes when handling a butterfly or something possibly fragile. "Hm. You'll have to go with s-sometime?" An eyebrow lifts. Her words are awkward. "Wow I sound like a total creeper."

"Creeper?" Marko replies, shaking his head a little as, once again, he finds himself drawn to those eyes. "No, no…." he says, then smirks teasingly, because teasing's a way to do…something. "Well, okay, a little, but that's not a bad thing." he adds, and, for the first time in this whole exchange, his smile touches his eyes. "You're on, though. We'll have to see what we can find."

Lunair doesn't mind although she does blush. The teasing doesn't help. Her eyebrows lift and she laughs softly. "Oh, you find it charming then?" She smiles back. "Well… I'm glad to hear that," She nods. Her smile doesn't fade. "It sounds like it'll be fun." She's still red enough to make a tomato jealous. Pause. "Ah! I'm not distracting you from anything important am I?"

"Eh….no?" Marko replies, not wanting to look away from the tomato-colored Marine LT before him. "My washer's not about to blow up is it?" he asks, pulling a little scared face. "Tidal…add too much, washer goes 'boom'." he grins.

Fortunately, she doesn't burst into flames or seem to be going anywhere. She looks to the washer though and back to him. "Nope, doesn't look it," She blinks. "I'll have to remember that," Lunair smiles at him. "Although now that I think about it, I keep asking you questions. Did you have any for me?"

"Eh….um….only about a thousand…" Marko admits, pinking again. "Just that you're better at the asking than me." he replies, trying to be coy. "With me, it's like an interrogation…All that's missing is the hard, white light and the Delphi PD dude in the background playing with his billy club. Not a good scene."

Hee. Blush. "I'm flattered I am so interesting," Lunair smiles. "I am touched you think so too," Alas, Lunair buys it hook, line and sinker. "I don't honestly mind. But only if you'd like to ask in turn then," She offers. Then an amused look at his comment. "Oh is that so?" She puts her hands on her hips. "You need another cop though for that don't you?"

"Something like that." Marko replies with another goofy grin and nod. "I'm only good at running the video camera. Need someone else who can be all intimidating." he chuckles. "Seriously, I do enjoy talking to you _lots_." he smiles sincerely. You can tell, because, once again, it touches his eyes.

Hee. "That's alright, cameras can be tough to operate properly. No one wants a movie of a thumb in the lens," She points out. Lunair's face reddens again and her eyes widen a little. "Ah. I'm touched. I'd be happy to spook people for you." Smile. "And I have been enjoying talking to you lots too." They are in agreement. Her smile is warm, and it's contagious. The happy seems to be quite genuine. She pauses, as the washer buzzes. "Oop, there we go." With that, it's laundry time. "I may have to go soon too. They have plenty of questions for me." Nod. But she did enjoy their tie!

Oh, right, she has words again….Not just her eyes….Damn, but they're hard to pull away from. "Yeah, me too." Marko replies, smiling sheepishly, like he's just been caught doing something slightly naughty but can't help but grin at the memory. "Good luck with the debrief, Lun." he says, the familiar rolling off his tongue before he can stop it. Blush, and offer his hand.

Well, Lunair is flattered apparently - most people might be bothered by oddly colored eyes created by defective pigment. She smiles warmly at him, although her face burns red. She just keeps her smile. "Thanks. Be well." She lifts a hand, and sets about to finish and get about with her business.

Marko watches Lunair go and completely forgets about the timer on his washing machine…now chiming out it's third and final warning before making a mess. "Lunair…Nice name." he sighs, then hops to turn the machine off before it explodes. "Frak….too much again….Godsdamn soap…..Last time I use Tidal! I swear it!"

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