| Old and Blue |
| Summary: | The new guy, Roland, comes in while Leyla and Quinn are looking at old things. |
| Date: | 21 Dec 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Mirror, Mirror |
| Players: |
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| Pilot Berths |
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| The battlestar's pilots call this place home. Bunks line the walls with grey curtains to cover their sleeping areas. Lockers sit between each pair of bunks and a round metal table sits in the center, furnished with simple but comfortable steel chairs. A hatch at the rear of the room leads to a communal head. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #299 |
It's relatively quiet, all things considered, in the pilot's berthings. With double CAPs and everyone who can pitch in on repairs actually doing so, most of the traffic through the long room has been people coming in to get dressed, leaving for duty, or moving to and from the head. Even the level of noise has gone down a notch, in an attempt to make what few hours people have to sleep more, well, peaceful. And so, it's with hushed tones that Quinn and Leyla have set out a work area at one of the communal tables. And on that work table, the most random collection of items and all, seemingly, old as frakall. A carefully folded dress, some rope, shackles, a brass mirror. And what look to be museum labels. A strange collection, considering the Condition Two set throughout the ship.
Maggie's sitting at the table, definitely not standing considering her current state of being really quite pregnant. She's got a few of the labels before her as she's looking things over, comparing writing to artifacts. She frowns as she works, "Well…from the condition of all these things… they really do look like they could be originals. None of them are showing any sort of marks, flaking, wrongness of materials that would call them reproductions…" She mutters, settling down the dress for one last time.
Roland walks a little stiffly as he makes his way through the bunks. He's still got his flight helmet in hand, as if he forgot to set it down. He walks past the table and pauses, turning around to look the way he came. He mutters to himself, "Frak me…." He glances at the pair at the table, and clears his throat, "Wheres… Uh… Number 18?"
"With the sort of money they had at their disposal, I can't imagine they would have settled for reproductions." Leyla, at the moment, is going over the mirror, checking for what look to be toolmarks. She's no jeweler or blacksmith, but she's worked with enough metal and done enough casting to be able to walk the line if she has to. "If we have the—" She pauses, at the appearance of the new face, one she's been too busy to register before. But she is in a flight suit, and it does bear the Knights patch, so he must belong. "You just came aboard? It's right to the left of where you can see those fluorescent pink sheets sticking out."
Roland nods absently, and looks for the bright sheets, "Yeah… Got picked up…" He looks back to the from Tauron. Thanks.. I keep forgetting that first turn."
Quinn pulls her tired green eyes away from staring at thread count on a cloth (wow, that's enough to make you go mad) and looks back to the new pilot. She blinks a few times, refocusing her vision with a warmer, motherly sort of smile on her freckled features. "Well, hullo there… Welcome to pilot country. Indeed, Sweet Pea here has got your bed all made up and ready for you. In pink." The last is good natured teasing from her heavily lilting, Aerilonian's voice.
Roland chuckles, and lets out a low whistle, "I'm not certain I could sleep with those on the bed. You could read by 'em."
"I don't imagine you'd be doing much sleeping, if Decoy were to come back to his wife's bunk to find you sleeping there instead of her. SO I think it would be a win win for you." Leyla sets aside the mirror, before she indicates herself, "Sweet Pea, pilot, Harriers. This is Captain Quinn, but I think she prefers Jugs, still. She's the LSO." Intros done, "Welcome home."
Roland nods to them both, "Blue… Knights…" He arches an eyebrow and looks down at the table, "You all win at poker or something?"
Quinn gives a bow of her head in Roland's direction. "What's your name, pilot? And… uh, Maggie is just fine off duty." She's still not a real fan of her call sign, even if others have found it amusing for years. It's even more awkward now that she's quite pregnant and DOES actually have a set of jugs on her, not the A cups which always drew odd looks considering her given call sign. She looks down to the things…"No, no… loot from the surface. A cultist's museum dedicated to Pentheus.."
"Leyla," since we're being all informal and all. "You know, it's really not that I'm not grateful for more viper sticks, but we could sure use a few more people in our raptors. I'm pretty sure Boots is getting ready to put us on triple CAPs and start handing out stims." Still, there's no hint of displeasure at having another pilot, in whatever form they take. The Cerberus can use all they can get, "Rich people." As if that could explain having such a museum.
Roland nods slowly and almost as an afterthought says, "James Roland..Good to meet you both." He nods, "I moved a couple of Raptors, but I couldn't get one to dance like a Raptor Pilot does. He shrugs, "They put me on the duty roster fast enough.. I guess they need the help with Vipers too. He lets out a long breath, and rubs his eyes with one hand.
"I thought the same thing about Vipers when I was in flight school. I could fly the ship, but my heart wasn't in it. Not like it needs to be when you're behind the stick. But it is good to meet you, James. But your bunk really is just left of the pink one. Don't let Maggie lead you astray. The pink's Bubbles' bunk, above her is Decoy. If you see two Devlin's on the flight roster, those are they. They're Knights as well."
Quinn looks at both of them with a quiet sigh, "Yes, well…I'm really quite jealous of both of you right now that you get to fly a bird at all. I'm going stir crazy on deck just playing traffic director these days." She admits with a tired groan.
Roland smiles slightly, and nods, "As long as she doesn't change her sheets.. I won't get lost." He looks back to them, and lifts his helmet in salute, "Thanks for the help. I'm going to turn left, and crash for a few before I have to go back out."
"Well, she does on a regular basis, but it's always something you can spot easily, so you won't get lost. Don;t worry, give it a few days and a bit of sleep, and you'll end up being able to find your bunk blindfolded. Sleep well, Blue, we'll try not to keep you up." There is a bit of a smile in Maggie's direction, "Few more months, you'll be right as rain and back where you belong."
Quinn chuckles quietly, "Yes, and probably none of us will be getting a good night's sleep." Maggie teases back towards Leyla, before looking in Roland's direction, "Rest well. Welcome aboard… we'll get to know each other when you're a bit less tired and shell shocked." She flashes her motherly smile at the man a few more moments before she goes back to thread counting.
Roland inclines his head, "I appreciate it." He moves back through the bunks and turns left, "You all won't keep me up… " The rest of what he says is lost in the bunks as he disappears down a row of bunks.