| The Stuff of Nightmares |
| Summary: | The the coffee makes a strong argument for that dubious title, that's not quite what the two deckies are talking about. |
| Date: | 18 Oct 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | The one where Shiner is almost decapitated |
| Players: |
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| Hangar Deck - Port - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| The single largest rooms on the Cerberus are the hangar decks. Each flight pod consists of two stacked landing bays with adjoined decks and hangars, which along with computer-assisted landings results in a faster Viper recovery rate. Mirror images of each other, these two huge areas are located on the flight pods. The inboard sides of the deck, closest to the ship's main hull, are lined with parking and maintenance bays for Vipers and Raptors based aboard the battlestar. The outboard side of the deck contains the launch tubes used by the Vipers for standard deployment. Huge blast doors seal the deck into four sections, each one containing an elevator that leads up to the flight deck directly overhead. The fore-most section contains an elevator system that leads towards Aerospace Fabrication. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #234 |
Thump. Scrape. Grunt. Thump. Scrape. Grunt. Shuffling along with the aid of his crutches, it's the first time in weeks that Shiner's been on the deck. He's still not exactly 100%, and it's clear from his lack of overalls that he's not here to work, but it's encouraging nonetheless. He pauses once he enters the deck proper, squinting into the glare of the lights to see who's about and what work's being done. A quiet reunion at best, as he stops to catch his breath and break from the effort of dragging himself along.
"You should invest in one of those chairs like that engineering chick's got. If you want, we can strap a Viper engine on it or something…you'd get from one end of the ship to the other really frakkin' quick in that case!" The chiding comes from off to the side of the deck, where a Raptor has been pulled off into one of the service bays. It's a woman, and she's standing up on the winglet of the ship which pushes her almost up to the height of a normal person.
Shiner looks over at the suggestion, cracking a grin. "You're kidding, right? I just got out of the frakking chair. But… dude… rocket powered? You could tempt me." He leans back against the bulkhead, adjusting his crutches in his hands. "How's things? Missing me horribly, huh?"
"Missing you so bad that actual work's getting done…you know how it goes. Our unending adoration is turned to more constructive pursuits in your absense, o mighty one," Cilusia jokes. Hell, she even manages to get out the first part of the sentence before her stone face crumbles and she starts to sputter and laugh. Yeah, it's basically impossible to say that and be serious.
"Well, y'know. You have to do something to take your mind off thinking about me," Shiner agrees, grinning amiably. He hefts the crutches and begins the slow, laborious shuffle over towards her. "Is the Chief around, PO?"
Cilusia is quiet a moment finishing up one last step on this part of the repair before it slips her mind. When she finishes, she turns around to Shiner and, wiping her brow before doing anything else, gives an exaggerated shoulder shrug. "Did you check the office? If he's around, I haven't seen or heard shit. And you know how he is. Like living with a damn ape."
Shiner wrinkles his nose. "Ah, shit, and here's me fresh out of bananas, too. Yeah, I'll poke my head in there and see if I get it chewed off, thanks." A pause. "In a minute anyway. Any chance of a cup of tea while I'm down here?"
"Tea? Try again? Coffee's where it's at down here, brother. I think there's some burning right over here," she quips back, and jumps down off the winglet of the Raptor with a thump onto the deck. A few small tools are stuck into the upper arm pockets over her coveralls. "Maybe I'll be nice and get a cripple a cup without making him walk."
"Eight sugars, then, please," Shiner replies smartly, flashing a grateful smile before leaning against the Raptor to pause again for breath. "Seriously, the efforts a guy has to go to just to get a pretty girl to make him a coffee, huh?"
"So you know, twenty percent gratuity added for parties of one or more," Cilusia adds smartly. "So, do you want some coffee with your sugar then?" she answers to the way he takes his brew. And sure enough, the cup is filled with about a third sugar, then filled up from the pot on the burner off the side in a bit of a common tool area out of the way. Vigorous stirring is going to necessary unless he's looking for syrup at the bottom!
Shiner squints thoughtfully, raising one claw-like hand to count off on the curled fingers. "So… wait…. twenty percent of nothing… carry the one… that's a grand total of… frak all, right? Cheap at half the price. Thanks, though," he adds more seriously, nodding to the brew. "You know what's weird? I miss the smell down here."
After pawning off the 'coffee' on Shiner, Cilusia raises a brow at his next comment…then she leans in to mimic taking a deep whiff of his shoulder-y, upper arm-y area. "You go without showering a few more days up in sickbay or whatever, and you'll get that smell back," she groans, waving a hand in front of her nose and making gagging faces.
"Oh, sure, yeah yeah," Shiner waves her off, rolling his eyes. "You're just jealous that for once I don't have to go around stinking of oil and grease like the rest of you muppets." He grips the coffee awkwardly, expression pained as he works to fold his fingers around the handle without burning himself, and slowly, carefully lifts it to his lips, spilling a fair amount down his front along the way.
"No, instead you get to hobble around smelling like…you." It's not the best come back in the worlds, but…meh, it'll work. "Oh, and burned coffee. Don't forget that lovely little smell. Should we get you a bib too? I think there's some civvies with kids just over in the other hangar bay…"
Shiner takes his time, concentrating hard to raise one arm, extend his wrist, then extend his middle finger until it's almost straight and looking almost smug at achieving this. "Arsehole," he calls her goodnaturedly. "You're not supposed to laugh at guys with drinking problems."
"My dear, the only drinking problem you have is that you can't seem to get the drink into your mouth. Big as that is, I'm really, really shocked." Cilusia gives his cheek and gently pat with a cupped palm - it's got grease and stuff on it, so, that'll wind up on his cheek - then she turns to walk away. When he extends the finger, she feigns shock. "If you weren't on crutches, I'd bend you over and show you where to stick that!"
"Oh, promises," Shiner replies, wrinkling his nose at the grease wiped on his cheek. "If I weren't on crutches I'd bend you over and show you where I'd stick it. Sad to say you'll just have to manage without my sweet loving for a few weeks more."
Cilusia's jaw about drops to the floor! "And by sweet loving, do you mean mucking up repairs and driving the shit truck? Because the plumbing on the other hangar bay is all finished up. They got real toilets over there now. That's the kind of sweet loving I can do without, honestly!"
Shiner raises an eyebrow. "All done? Shit, for real? Result! No more shitwagon!" he cheers. "That calls for some celebration, right? Your place or mine?"
Her expression fades back into something of mild indifference. Or annoyance. Who's to say? They're pretty similar right? "Same place, bub. Or have you forgotten? I know I haven't! Those sounds at night?" She feigns a shudder. "The stuff of nightmares."