| Specs and Cylons |
| Summary: | Cilusia meets Lunair in the library, where they talk about armor and the fallout of the MOUT training |
| Date: | 30 Mar 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Ships Library - Deck 9 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Post Holocaust Day: #32 |
| Racks of books extend deep into this room, nearly darkening the overhead lights towards the back. The shelves are neatly labeled to each category with nearly everything represented here. Fiction, Sci-Fi, Romance, and everything down to comic books has been loaded up onto the shelves. A smaller research area at the back has a large table for maps to be opened-up. Nearer the door is a small library of movies that covers some of the most recent blockbusters and flows through some of the more campy movies from about two decades before. Next to the door, a Petty Officer can usually be found at a desk to help someone checkout their selections. |
| Condition Level: 3 - All Clear |
It's a quiet afternoon in the library. Lunair has settled in to a botany textbook. She seems at peace, although strangely, she has a scarf over her head. Odd. It's a well made scarf at least, and only a few people come in and out of the library.
One of the people to come into the library today is a PO3 from the deck. Out of the brig a few days now, and looking for some reading material that's a little more up-to-date than the trash that gets funneled down there for the prisoners to read, she heads on into the ship's library. Thing's pretty damn big too, compared to some of the other ships she's been on. It's gonna take the PO at the desk to help her find what she wants, short of wandering up and down the aisles spreading chaos and disturbing the other patrons while she searches.
Good times. Lunair pauses and looks over. There's a curious look from the purple-eyed Marine who is happily off-duty. She puts a bookmark in her Plants are FANTASTIC! Botany 101! book. Peeeer. Peeeeeer. "Huh." Boggle.
If there's a look for perpetually frazzled, leave it up to Cilusia to possess it; man, that hair goes everywhere! It's in fully exploded mode at the moment, bouncing all over as she converses with the PO on the desk, nodding when the clerk points, and sets off down the aisle. Right past the area where Lunair is sitting and reading of course (how else could it happen?).
Hee. At least Cil /has/ hair. Woe. "Oh hey." Now Lunair remembers. She was a MECHA CYLON *arm wave* that chased poor Cil around. Her voice is soft, as she leans on the table. For now she seems to be in a peaceful, serene mood. She smiles in greeting though, peering upward. She watches the unfolding scene before her.
"Hey. See you lost the Cylon getup. Guess us non-Marine scrubs got a lot to learn about room clearing huh?" She looks over her shoulder at Lunair for a moment, while finding the correct shelf and getting down the book she desired. Then, back to the table, which she looks at, raising her brows and pointing at the chair. "Mind if I sit?"
"I did, though I'd be lying if I said I don't think a suit of that armor would be handy," Lunair smiles. She shrugs, "And I've a lot to learn about crafts, intelligence and all that." Lunair replies easily. She looks to her own book before looking over at Cilusia. "No, not at all. I'm just reading about plants. I'm kind of boring when I'm not chasing people around going 'beep boop'."
"Yeah, that's a good thought about that armor. Better gear would definitely help keep you grunts alive. That's where I come in, I guess." To show that that's what she means, Cilusia holds up the book she's gotten off the shelf, which is all about the technical specs of CMC combat armors. "Deck Chief's given me the job of seeing what happened on that frakkin' station, and what we deckies can do to beef up your armor and shit."
Yanking the chair out from the table by hooking a foot around the leg, Cil sets herself down and opens the book up to the index, before stretching a hand out across the table; it's her right hand, which shows off that hard-to-miss tattoo. "PO3 Cilusia Fasi, since I don't think we've officially met. I'm your survival equipment specialist down on deck."
Lunair seems to be pretty peaceful and easy going for a marine. She nods and looks up. "A bit. And I think you would have done better with Armor piercing rounds. Those seem to do a number on the Cylons," She notes quietly. Lunair shrugs at that. "Such is life. I hope no one has to run into more cylons than they absolutely much really." Lunair looks up at the book. "Oh. I see. Interesting. I think a lot of departments are in on that now. I hope we can work out a few things on our end too." She smiles a little. "For now, off-duty? I help work on setting up some plants growing. If the Cerberus can grow fresh fruits and veggies, it'd be nice." She takes a deep breath and pauses, then accepts the be-tattooed hand. Neato! "Lieutenant Junior Grade Raine Lunair, Ground Pounder, Coffee Monkey and Marine Officer." A faint smile. She shakes her head, "Not officialy, but it is a pleasure. And oh? That's good. That stuff's important. I think I was lucky my helmet didn't crack when I got shot in the head."
"Yup, that's why they assign those things. Really heavily tested, against a hell of a lot of different rounds and guns. Of course, you gotta balance weight, comfort, size…all the shit that marines would gripe about against the protection it offers. Hell, we could make you a giant Cylon helmet, but you probably wouldn't be able to see or move worth two frakkin' hoots inside the thing." While Lunair talks, Cil flips through the book, looking for said specs. "Man, I got probably talk your ear off about that stuff, but I dunno that you'd care, so long as it works…which, like you said, you're a testament to. And hey, that's cool about the plants. I got a LOT of scuttlebutt about this frakkin' monster to catch up on before I'm caught up. Been in the brig, and all that."
Nod. Lunair smiles. "Hey, chafing hurts," She winks. "Especially when you run around and get shot at." She shrugs. "And if you're too heavy, you're a sitting target. Not like those're hard to pick off," She comments. A grin at the helmet comment. "I think I'd like one though, if I could put some eyeholes." Or spraypaint on a smiley face. She looks over to Cil. "That's okay, I don't mind listening. I talked with an ECO about his work. He's excited about a lot of the code." And from the tone of her voice, Lunair thinks said ECO is freakin' adorable. She tilts her head. "Yeah. It's crazy almost everywhere. And oh? Well, welcome out." She offers.
Cilusia gets a little smirk on her face. "Hey, thanks. If I get thrown back in, I'll make a request that you haul me down there, huh? But yeah, most ECOs are a little nuts about their work. Course, I think everyone has to be. Otherwise, why the frak would they be on this beast?" As their conversation gets more exaggerated and involved, more than once Cilusia's volume and lewd language draws the ire of the desk clerk, who issues sharp hisses in their direction. Settling down some, she starts to look over this tome of CMC equipment specs, tracing the lines with a finger…showing off the bandaged knuckles.
"I think you're right. Spots on this ship are highly coveted," She points out. "A lot of pretty women too. Very good PR I guess." Lunair shrugs. "Makes me wonder how the frak I got on board," Grin. At Cil's hauling comment she shakes her head. "Oh, that's actually the MPs' job. I'm more with rifles." She winces as the desk clerk hisses. Meep. She shrinks a little. She looks over towards Cil. "I think they put me here in case they get short on paperweights."
"That, or if they should ever need Cylon impersonators," Cilusia replies with a little chuckle. "You got that down, clearly. Anyways, mostly came up for this thing. Wanna study up, brush up, given my mission parameters at the moment. Figured I'd stop over and say hey, introduce myself officially. Hell, maybe I'll see you around the range. Chief said he'd like to see the knuckledraggers get better at shooting. My preference is to get up close and personal, though." Not like that'd do much good at all against a Cylon. "So, nice to meet you. Need a helmet patch job or have armor questions, you know where to find me!" And up she goes, pushing her chair in and walking out with that book…after signing it out, of course!
"I can see it now. Agent Lunair 007, Cylon Infiltrator. I'll have on a little red Cylon dress, a cigarette and con them out of their information." She laughs softly and smiles. Lunair nods. "I'd love to. I'll see you around. And er - I wouldn't do that with a Cylon," Her cheer fades briefly. There's a pained look. "Not if you can help it. Though you can shoot point blank if you have to." She smiles. "Your Chief seems like a good guy. I will have to meet him. Be well." She lifts a hand.