| PHD #342: Shiner's "Flight" |
| Summary: | Khloe harasses the recruit berths in the early AM hours. Has "business" for Shiner. |
| Date: | 03 Feb 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Swimming, Sonja's Flight |
| Players: |
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| Recruit Berths - Naval Deck - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| The battlestar's new recruits call this place home. Bunks line the walls along the length of the room, separated by lockers assigned to each new crewman. A table and a fair number of chairs sit in the center of the room, and at the back is a hatch leading to a communal head. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #342 |
Snore. Mumble. Rumble. Snore. The lights are off, and only the real keeners are starting to tiptoe from their bunks to the head, the sound of showers beginning to run, while the majority of the recruits in here make the most of every last minute of sleep they can get before the alarm goes, the lights come on, and they're expected to be alert, upright and ready to go.
Bang, bang! Those are the loud sounds of a hard-ass's knuckles on the berths door as it swings open, heralding the Nugget recruits' worst nightmare. "Rise and shine, Nuggets! Nobody's bringing you coffee or breakfast in bed, the Cylons nuked it all. Get the frak up and get to your stations. None of this 'fifteen minutes more' rubbish, either!" To punctuate her drill-sergeant-like words, she will bang on the metal framework of bunks as she passes and her booted foot will occasionally bump into metal furniture causing it to jump or skid. It's as if she was going to pass by Shiner's bunk, and if the Nugget was amongst the others to automatically jump out of bed and shuffle off to the head, the Captain would stick out her hip for a gentle hip-check back in. "Not you, Wright," she says in a low voice.
Shiner grunts as his keenness is checked, rubbing at his eyes in surprise as he's bundled back into his bunk. By Khloe. Clearly all his dreams have just come true and she's here for his body. Understandable, really. Who could resist.
Waiting for most of the recruits to disappear and handle their morning business, Khloe parks her ass on the edge of Shiner's bed, turned at the waist to face him. "Now, Wright, we're going to go over this nice and slow, for your benefit," she begins, her voice low, and perhaps a little smoky? It has to be a dream. "Because the gods know I'm not here for mine. Do you know why I'm here?"
Shiner doesn't immediately answer. IT'S A TRAP! And yet optimism wins out and he shifts over on the bunk a little, giving a cautious glance out across the berthings. "Uh… well… you'd better come in before you're spotted, sir," he informs her earnestly, one hand on the curtain, ready to whip it closed again once she's in, presumably.
And then the unimaginable happens: she smiles. A wan little smile, showing a little bit of teeth, too. Leaning in slowly, she almost purrs, "You do realize that you're talking about fraternization. It could get us both drummed out of the service."
Shiner swallows, closing his eyes for a moment. "You've got more to lose, sir," he points out breathlessly. "No hard feelings if you walk away now, sir."
"But think of the bliss we could enjoy, together, I'd be willing to give up everything, if it meant just a little time with you, Wright." One of Khloe's hands - and they're strong, calloused hands, too; perhaps her least feminine feature - reaches out to trace along the edge of wherever Shiner's covers have fallen to.
Shiner is doomed. DOOMED. Incapable of anything resembling coherent speech at this, he simply reaches to grip her by the front of the shirt and pull her in with him, other hand whipping the curtain closed.
And in the privacy of Shiner's bunk, Khloe wastes no time in using her forearms to break Shiner's grab on her and then pin him down, pressing rather uncomfortably on his windpipe. "Squirm, and I'll choke you unconscious, you disgusting little troll," she hisses through her teeth. Uh, this is part of the game, right?
Shiner looks momentarily confused, but then, hey, no real surprise if she likes it rough. She seems the type. He doesn't squirm, instead looping his arms around her for a good grope of that holy grail, her butt, croaking out, "Hey, not so hard."
Her mouth opens, showing teeth, jaw tensing as if she's doing everything in her power not to scream her displeasure at the man she has pinned. "Let. Go. Of. My. Ass!" And perhaps the one thing that Shiner wasn't expecting to collide with his private area this morning comes Khloe Vakos' knee.
Shiner releases immediately with an oof, doing his best to curl up and protect his bruised knackers, even with her in the way. All of a sudden it's just not fun any more. That HURT, and there's tears in his eyes.
Grabbing a fistful of his short hair, Khloe tugs his head back so she can look him in his tearing eyes. "You know, ever since I've been forced to associate with you, I've seen nothing but a worthless male that lusts for women like they were some kind of amusement park. Yesterday at the pool was a reminding why I find men like you, revolting." What is she going on about?
"Sir?" Shiner squeaks out, face draining of colour. "Sir, you came on to me!"
"Exactly my point. Even after you managed the astounding mental calculus that would result in my loss of a life of service to the Navy, you went along with it anyway," the older woman snaps. "Even after I let down my guard yesterday enough to go swimming, to let you even touch me! and then afterwards treat me like a piece of meat? You make my skin crawl, mister! And if I had a knife I'd cut off your sack and feed it to you." That's when she pushes up, off of him, straddling his midsection. And she quickly fixes her regulation hair style, skillfully placing strands of hair back where they belong, and tucking others.
Shiner just looks lost. Confused. And even the puppy dog eyes won't save him. "Sir?" he queries again, swallowing. "Uh… so why are you here, sir? In my bunk?"
"Because I can't beat the crap out of you on the outside, and I can't leave any incriminating marks," Khloe explains simply. "Mainly I came here to tell you to keep your paws off of Sonja Lyon and to not overextend your authority as a Nugget. Nuggets do not give each other callsigns." She swings one leg over and throws the curtain aside, with the intention of stepping out.
"What the frak?" Shiner responds, totally lost now. "Sir? I didn't touch her! And I didn't give anyone any frakking callsign! What have you been smoking?"
"No?" Khloe asks, peering back into the bunk to look at the younger man she just, well, manhandled. And not in the pleasant sense. "My mistake, then. I recommend a cold shower, and some ice." And with that, the Captain begins her walk, with a hint of a swagger, towards the exit. Passing a few recruits who are nearby and trying to mind their business (and failing), she gives them a small smile as she passes. And then she's gone.
Shiner growls as he swings from his bunk, bare feet hitting the cold floor. "Eighteen hundred hours, sir!" he calls out after her in challenge. "You and me in the frakking boxing ring."