| Log You Remind Me of the Babe |
| Summary: | Cilusia, Samuel, Lysander and Circe sit and talk about the captured raiders and brains. Quinn arrives with little Kalli and talk soon turns to babies. |
| Date: | 19 Feb 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | TBD |
| Players: |
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| Room name goes here! |
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| Behind the two hangar decks, the Cerberus' Galley is the largest room on the ship. Nearly half the size of a football field, the eating area is made up of long lines of stainless steel tables that can be folded up and placed against the wall for larger events. Individual seats are the standard military issue, boring and grey with lowest-bidder padding. The line for food stretches across one of the shorter sides of the room while the kitchen behind works nearly twenty-four hours a day to produce either full meals or overnight snacks and coffee for the late shifts. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #358 |
The Swarm has been relatively quiet and for once Circe has found a brief respite to get some rest. A few medical texts rest on the table next to her and she idly picks at her food as she cradles one against her leg so she can read over it. She spears some of her food and turns it, bringing it up to her mouth as she nibbles at it.
The medic shifts in her seat, leg braced to the table - foot on the chair. She turns the page and then raises her hand to take up her pen - notes scrawled out on the lines and not quite so perfect.
Blessed peace, or at least, something like it. Day after day, attack after attack. It's hard on the pilots first of all, then you can debate who's next in line on the difficulty-o-meter. Guess which department Cilusia has her money on? That's right, the deck department, the one struggling to keep all those birds in the air so they don't shred the moment they tear off down the launch tube.
Speaking of…the mighty midget hasn't looked this run-down in days and days. Washed up, but zombie-ing around, she looks burned out. Light footfalls turn into clunky, booted stomps, and she's made zero attempt to corral her hair, apply any sort of makeup, or even get out the multitude of banges and necklaces she wears when offduty. It's shower, bunk, food, work, ad nauseam.
Making his way inside the room, Samuel shakes his head a bit to himself, before he looks around the room for a few moments. Heading over in the direction of the food line, a bit slowly now.
Looking up from her text, she spots Samuel and gives the marine a wave of her hand. She smiles some and then sits up a bit more, reaching over her knee to grasp at her drink. Rest back against her chair, she sips at her drink, tapping her pen against the paper.
The galley is relatively empty and scooting her chair back she reaches for another text and overlays it with the one she was looking at, opening to a marked page. Circe brushes her finger over a piece of information and then jots down some information.
Clang, clatter, clang, slam. Cilusia grabs a tray, tosses on some utensils, slaps them all down on the rails for the chow line, and slides along. A blob of that, scoop of that, whatever it is doesn't much matter. It's food, fuel, calories. "Frak me, what I wouldn't give for a sip of that Viper fuel they serve over at Pete's!" She's not talking to anyone in particular, but she doesn't exactly say it quietly.
Lifting one hand to wave back in Circe's direction, Samuel then moves to get some of that whateveritis that's being served today as well. Pausing a bit as he hears Cilusia's outburst. "Don't think I've got some of that over here, sadly," he remarks.
Sticking her spoon in her mouth, Circe hmms to herself and pages through the next couple of chapters. She pauses, stopping at the next marked page quite a few later. She draws the notebook to herself and she begins to flesh out something on her page by turning it sideways and writing along the edge of the paper.
The outburst from the deck hand brings her gaze up and she smiles some at the mention of alcohol. Gazing back down, she withdraws her spoon and fills it again.
Cilusia's not-giving-a-frak about how they load the food on her tray results in something that's…well, it manages to look and smell worse than the normal rations ever could. This brown stuff probably shouldn't mix with that green stuff, that starchy thing probably doesn't go well with that sweet thing, but who cares. "Could this look anymore like Raider brains? Is that what you're doing, taking all those braindamaged, tattooed Raiders and harvesting Cylon guts for dinner?" She's joking entirely too loud with the grunts who slaved over a hot slop tub to make this stuff!
Food, it keeps a marine strong. It happens to be the reason as to why Lysander is skulking about the galley too. He's recently piled on some food onto a tray and now needs to find a seat. But first, he's in need of replying to Cilusia, "Pete's ain't got nothin' on the marines." With that said and done, he has to find a seat, and not look down to make sure his food isn't Brain a la Cylon: there's a lot to choose from, seats that is, relatively speaking, but he might as well aim for those more familiar than others. Samuel and Circe, why not?
"If it was, we'd have no problems with the food supply," Samuel comments, before he studies the food for a few moments, "When are we stopping by a well-stocked store to raid it for supplies again?" That said, he starts making his way over in the general direction of where Circe's placed herself, after nodding a bit to Lysander as well.
Flexing her toes in her sandals, the poor worn things squeak a little and look about ready to fall apart. She shifts a bit more and balances the books edge hooks against her hip. She draws a breath and sighs, placing the tip of her finger at the edge of a sentence and narrowing her gaze. As Samuel starts her way and nears, she looks up and shifts upward immediately.
Her foot lowers and she sets it down so she can pile the books up and make some more room for the others. She smiles at the MP and nods her head, "How are you today?" She asks of him and then looks past him to Lysander. She smiles at him and motions for him to join.
The tray slides to the end of the rail, then Cilusia carries the spoils of war, such as they are, to a table and clangs them down. It's almost like a prison, the way she eats, shoveling it in as if it's /completely/ tasteless. Fuel, and little more.
"All good, I think. One of those days," Samuel replies, with a bit of a chuckle. "What about you?" Glancing over to Cilusia again for a few moments now, then back to Circe. "Mind if I join you?"
Lysander can't help it. He ends up glancing down and eyeballing his food thanks to the Cylon-comment. As much as he would love to think about things like that, he's being waved over towards them and so follows his original intent, setting tray down before sliding into a proper seat. He glances in the direction of Cilusia himself before looking to the budding conversation. "I can't say I'd be thrilled about reading so many books at the same time, especially while eating, but that's just me - an' another good chunk of us survivors, go figure."
"Not at all, you are more than welcome." Circe says, balancing the books on her thighs by lifting her feet to her toes. "I am not really reading so much as researching…well studying." She supplements for Lysander. "Besides, keeps my mind off Cylon-brains. Her gaze flits over to Cilusia till she gives her attention back to her newly found tablemates.
She closes the books, torn pieces of paper marking her spots as she slides them to the ground beside her chair - there are more books on the table anyhow. She takes a spoonful of what is left of her food - now cold and stuffs into her mouth. Circe makes a face but eats it, leaving the spoon stuck between her lips as she tries to make more room, shuffling the books on the table wit her hands.
"Only because those books don't have anything in them about Cylon brains, mind you. That shit's all in the deck manuals. It's some sort of bastard child of medical and the deck gang, trying to gut or put those things back together again." Scrape, Cilusia's spoon hits the bottom of one of the spoonfuls of something, and she shovels that in too. A brief pause as she pulls out a rubber band to haul her hair back before takling the 'soup.'
"Not that I'm complaining or anything here," Samuel offers a bit lightly after seating himself. "But aren't there far better topics of conversation than Cylon brains? They tend to make me worry a lot, you know…"
"I don't know, I think it involves reading," because the Sergeant would enjoy to win a fair game of wits by a technicality, so he smiles cheekily to Circe's response before turning his attention to his food. It's not all that great, sure, but it's something over nothing. "But hey, don't you know Sam, she'd love to eat Cylon brains." There's a pause in where he would like to say more, but Lysander is content with that much in teasing the deckie.
Despite the revolting topic, Circe perks a little at the mention of manuals. But it is the dry wit of Lysander that earns a raise of her brow and a long glance. She holds up a finger as if to ward him off. Her gaze slides to Cilusia. "So about these manuals…" She starts after giving the sarge a swift kick beneath the table against his shin. If he wings at wit, she can play dirty.
She muses, her lips pressing together in a faint smile as the medic bends her leg and hooks it beneath the other. "I would like to look at them.." She admits absently.
"Ain't really my decision, you see," Cilusia says after swallowing down some of the soup/gruel/slop and wiping with a napkin. "You'd have to ask the chief, I guess?" She gives a shrug. "I know we've gutted a few heavies, trying to figure out what the frak makes them tick. The raiders are the ooey-gooey ones. So yeah, you're probably going to have to ask him if that's cool for you to look at."
"Well, they say some people really like brains, but I don't think it was meant like that," Samuel comments, before he starts his process of eating. Otherwise keeping silent for now.
Lysander tilts his head to the side at a shallow angle and eyes Circe's lifted finger. It leads into his internally debating on whether or not he should continue talking about their current conversation. Glancing elsewhere and to everyone else, he starts to speak up and then abruptly sits all the straighter. It's the kick. Muttering dryly to himself, he goes back to just eating. Then again, "I don't know. I'd love to know what makes a Cylon tick."
"I should take that up with the Chief then…" She ponders over this and Circe pushes the tray aside. Rising to scoop it up in hand. "Join us.." She offers to Cilusia as she looks to the marines to see if they would mind - there is one chair left open at the table. She gives Lysander a faint bump as she passes.
The slap of her sandals sound as she crosse to the recepticle and cleans her tray off, setting it aside. She moves back towards the table, looking quite taken with the idea of studying a Raider's insides.
"Trust me, you don't want to see shit about Cylon anything. Ever seen one of those frakkers up close and personal?" Stupid question she thinks, as she lifts off from one table, and slides down at the Marine table. "Actually, stupid question. You're in the CMC, of course you probably have. But godsdamned, I was down in the repair bay when those frakkers busted on through the skin of the ship. They were frakkin' FEET away from me."
"Seen a number of them too close…" Samuel remarks a bit absently, before he looks over at Lysander. "I'd love more to know how to stop them from ticking…"
Lysander doesn't mind. He's busy getting amusingly bullied by Circe and trying to figure out what he's eating. The fleet needs to go back to raiding planets. "No such thing as a stupid question," replies the marine, "But I'm willing to make exceptions here an' there. I'm sure you kicked their frakkin' arses for being so close to you." He grins and then shifts into nodding toward Samuel. "Yeah, that's one of the things I'd like to know about." There are, of course, other bits of information that he would love to find out from their metal cousins.
"We all have had close encounters I think.." She brushes past again, moving back to her seat with a slap of worn sandals. As she climbs ack into her slightly cooling chair, she cuddles into the bubble of warmth she had been working on while studying. Circe grabs at her books and looks towards Cilusia. "I know its probably not the most pleasant thing, nor do I want a live one anywhere near me, but its good to understand them to say the least. We might find some sort of medical value to them to aid us." She explains. "Or just be able to shut them down entirely…it's a hope at least."
Her eyes flit to Samuel and she nods to him, agreeing. She wanted to hit planetside as well, itching to breathe in air that wasn't recycled.
"Problem is, a wrench really only works on them when they're, you know, already slagged or whatever. Not like the deck makes a habit of keeping firearms down there for regular use. I mean, that's not to say I don't know how to use the frakkin' things," Cilusia says with a spreading grin. "Been in way too much action for a run-of-the-mill deckie. But then, I guess these are pretty godsdamned frakked up times."
"Really?" Samuel remarks a bit lightly, before finishing off some more of his food. "I remember this time the Cylons shot me while I was driving…" A brief pause, before he adds, "That's what I remember of it, though…"
"The horror, the horror," but that's about all Lysander is willing to personally bring up about his close encounters of the metal kind. That, or he is currently in the middle of sticking a forkful of food into his mouth and holding it thoughtfully in place while looking to the others. "All before my time, I think, well, I know, by then I think I was crawling around irradiated zones for fresh water and food, not to mention Cylons in the area, and worse. Frakked up times, yeah, that's a good way of putting it."
Propping her foot up once more at the edge of her seat, she rests her shin against the edge of the table to make a prop for her books. She sticks the end of the pen between her teeth as it shifts about upon her grasping for her notepad. Slender fingers lift to draw the writing utensil from her lips. She gazes up from the words towards Lysander at his words.
Nothing to add, the medic's gaze grows distant in thought. Hazel eyes wander that line between that golden brown and tepid green they switch between. Her pen taps absently against the book.
"Don't know how else you'd describe the times," Cilusia says with a shrug. "One day, you're getting your ass hauled off to the brig, and then the day you come out, you find out that everything's gone straight to hell in a hand basket. That's the really frakked up part, at least for me!"
"And some might have thought things were frakked up before…" Samuel mutters, sounding oddly amused for the moment. "Just proves that no matter how bad life might be, there's always room for things to get worse, doesn't it?"
"No day is so bad that you can't fix it with a good bottle of alcohol, or nap, or the usual number one contender: a good frak." Lysander looks up from his tray of food with a smug little half-smile, his usual of expressions to fall back on, before reaching for his drink and offering a stiff nod of his head, rather matter-of-fact when it comes to his response. "Everybody loves a good nap." He looks over to the pen that Circe keeps tapping.
The words of the others slide over and off the medic as she is consumed by her thoughts. The direct gaze takes a moment to be felt and then she blinks. The tapping slows and breaks it's rythmn before she draws a deep breath and shifts. "Well they aren't going to get any better…not yet at least." She interjects - she was listening. A brow lifts and she looks towards Lysander with as slow smile and then smirks, looking down to her paper and making a note upon it to speak to the Chief.
She gazes across at Samuel, "Don't think I was there for you getting shot. Any lasting problems?" She asks. Good old nurse Circe.
"Well, as much as I'd like to trade war stories with you all…it's time for me to get going and fix up some pilot frak ups. Those Vipers aren't going to fix themselves, and godsforbid a pilot wakes up to find their bird not ready to fly. Act like their godsdamned shit don't frakkin' smell…" Cilusia gripes. She gripes all the way to her feet, and all the way to the compactor and recycler and dish line and all the way to the hatch.
Samuel shakes his head a little, "No lasting effects from back then. Been wounded so many times afterwards, really." It's said a bit lightly as he finishes off his food.
"Yeah, like when he had to take out a buck an' it decided to frak him up," which in Lysander's eyes is rather amusing so he is left to idle chuckles while he lifts a hand in waving to the departing Cilusia. That leaves the aptly-named marine table to just the marines, more or less, with the Sergeant putting down his drink and giving to a look about the relatively quiet and emptied galley. On a more important note to the conversation, he quietly adds, "Looks like we wear adversity better than these uniforms, but I guess that's just what makes us human."
Quinn has been doing her very best to keep the baby out of the crew's hair. She knows for as many people as there are excited for mama and baby, there are probably twice as many insistant this is not a family ship, this is a military vessel, and she with child has no place aboard. So she's tried to remain hidden, but after nearly going truly stir crazy, she's decided to come out into the public and hope for the best. Maggie's in her sweats, still not quite back into her old uniform, but at least she's managed to give back the oversized Marine sweats she was in for the end of her pregnancy. She's currently got the little bundle of pink in a knit cap across her shoulder, half passed out, sucking her thumb in comforting sleep as Maggie moves through the halls towards the Galley and in past the hatch.
Lysander's comment gets a nod of her head before she clears her throat and replies to Samuel, "Good. The worst are small things that nag at you. Come up to bother you on cold days.." But then again the temperature never changed aboard Cerberus. "Just keep me posted." She offers the MP and then as the shift of another body enters, her head lifts and looks upon Quinn and the baby. There is a moment as she smiles and then it grows. Baby in the room. Working on wounds all the time took the cuteness out of life and with that little bundle not far away from her, Circe could almost recall the new baby smell her nephew had once given off. She sighs, and lifts her hand to wave at Quinn.
"Don't remind me," Samuel remarks to Lysander. "Don't know how I managed to miss that one so many times…" He then nods to Cire, offering a half-smile, "Will do." Then he sees the new arrivals, and waves in the direction of the mother and baby. "Hello."
"I'll always be bringin' it up, until you tell me not to, then I'll wait." It's because Lysander is as Lysander does, the marine makes no apologies for his behavior - this time around - and merely offers his fellow marine a wry smile. He doesn't know what all the other two are looking at so turns in his seat in order to give a glance over his shoulder: "Ah, baby alert." He knits his eyebrows momentarily and then looks between Circe and Samuel. Checking their expressions leads him into waving over Quinn upon her fetching food and all, invitingly so. "There's nothing quite like the miracle of new life."
Quinn doesn't really have the arms free to fetch food right now — issue one with having a baby on a military ship, no baby carriers or cut car seats to pick up at the store. That's fine, she's more just relieved to find some adult company for the moment so she flashes a warm if quite tired eyed smile in the direction of the trio as she moves in their directions. "Hey… while she's quiet I figured I might actually get out." Not really asleep, the tiny pink thing's eyes half open, blearily staring at the new shapes around her, not really quite able to focus yet, but it's all quite interesting.
Circe doesn't wait for the men to offer - even if they would she would try to steal the chance herself, she shuffles her books out of her lap and stands. Her smile grows and of course everyone has heard of the little miracle. The medic moves closer and pushes curls from her face as she awwws softly. "If you want to get some food, I can hold her for you…." She offers softly - as if not to wake the baby.
The corpsman is glowing - quite brightly with the presence of the child and then looks up at Quinn. "I am fully certified in baby handling despite the two marines behind me." She offers for her case in point.
"Now I need to research ways to make people forget things, then," Samuel remarks in Lysander's direction, before he looks over to Quinn. "Quite understandable. How are you?" A brief pause as he looks between the mother and the child for a few moments, "Both of you?" Circe's words make him chuckle a little, as he shakes his head a bit lightly. Sadly, this is when he notices what time it is. "Oh no. I made an appointment with someone about something we should do about now. So if you guys will excuse me…" And with that, he starts getting to his feet.
"I'm not a mean marine, just a good an' wholesome marine, sir." Lysander greets Quinn with a mock salute, for in spite of his clothing he happens to be off-duty. He just hasn't changed, yet, but he does wear his black uniform at a rakish and lax angle. He also figures he can grin to Samuel and nod at the group's parting. "I won't hold it against you forever. Hell, it was a ballsy move on your part, admirable even." He then turns in place so that he can better accommodate the sudden influx of female persuasion surrounding him. There's a slight glance given between Circe and the baby; holding babies, big and important stuff that is.
Quinn looks to Circe, just a moment of hesitance in her body — after all, she's probably not handed the baby off to more than one or two people since Kalli was born. But she needs food and she trusts her crewmates, so she smiles gently and, as gingerly as possible, she hands the small bundle in traditional pink over. So light, still so tiny. The baby shifts uncomfortably as she's in the cool air, but once she settles into the warmth of Circe's arms she seems content to nestle whilst sucking her thumb, still only half awake. "Thanks hun… she should be pretty good. I know." And then to Samuel she smiles, "We're well enough. Not quite sleeping enough, at least me… but everything else is well. You be safe." Lysander then is given a slightly awkward smile, she not really knowing the Marine at all. "I…I'll be right back…" and then she half jogs for the chow line, leaving the Marine's with the tiny pink thing.
Waiting through Quinn's hesitation, it is only when the small precious being is handed to her that her smile breaks brilliantly across her face. She adopts the scooping arm below and her hand presses gently to cradle Kalli to her chest. "We will be right here, go enjoy some freedom." She crewman says. She gives Quinn a wink and turns slowly, swaying slightly as she draws a deep breath. She sighs at the scent of the baby and visibly relaxes.
Slowly she moves to take her seat again, her motions slow, precise and fluid. The swimmer's body lowers gracefully and to the seat. "You might want to think about possibly finding someone to pick up shifts for you. It's hard." She lets Quinn go and then turns to gaze downward, facing Lysander so he can look at Kalli with her. "She's so tiny.." She whispers in her elated voice.
The Sergeant looks from one woman to the other, and then the baby. They're fragile little things and his usual job description just means breaking everything in sight, so the idea of being near a baby is quite nerve-wracking. Or he's just a guy, Lysander doesn't know and the uncertainty is starting to creep into his expression. He lifts his brows emphatically to Circe before leaning forward in order to whisper back. "Yeah, well, don't go dropping her. That's bad for the fates." He pauses in order to sit up and kindly offer, "You're a natural though, so I doubt that'd ever happen."
Voices the baby doesn't know, unfamiliar arms and neither mama nor daddy anywhere in sight? That's enough for Kalli to stir a bit less comfortably, her still pale blue eyes flickering the rest of the way open as she vaguely looks in the direction of Circe and then to Lysander. She isn't quite crying yet, but that thumb is slipping from her tiny little mouth in a way that indicates she might be gearing up for something. Maggie's still getting food.
Looking up at Lysander, Circe laughs softly and shifts, rocking a little to offer Kalli some comfort in movement. The corpsman smirks at him and she shakes her head, leaning back over to whisper to him as she creates a deeper cradle with her arms to support the newborn. "A natural yes…but you look like you were staring at a centurion without a gun on you." She tilts her head, giving a side long glance at him from the corner of her eye. She smiles warmly and turns her arms just a little bit so Kalli can look about. "Shhhh little one. It's okay little girl." Circe hums softly, a tune that is melodic - the thrumming carrying through her chest to possibly soothe the young one. "You just need some practice, Lys."
"I've been in the Corps for far too long is all," murmurs the marine in reply. It's his life. Lysander then opens his mouth further when Kalli looks in his direction. This feels like a defining moment so he opts to try and make said baby laugh. That's easier said than done but he figures that with crossing his eyes in order to look down the bridge of his nose and sticking his tongue out works well enough. If not, that is why the Lords deem him without children. When he's not the target of the baby's attention he starts to sit back and regain some measure of calm and collectedness. "Always wanted to, first to prove something to my parents, and now, well," he shrugs.
Quinn finally returns, just as Kalli is really squirming. She's got a tray of the gruel-of-the-day in her hands, not looking thrilled about it, but she's at least got food. "You sure you're okay with her?" She asks the medic, apparently relieved that she can have some free hands to eat for a moment. Lysander's attempts to amuse don't really get a smile, but they get a slightly cross eyed look as Kalli tries to focus on him and yet doesn't quite have that much control of her eyes yet. It's distraction, at least. And at the sound of her mother's voice near, the baby girl settles more into Circe's upper chest and arms, her tiny fist instinctively hooking around the collar of Circe's shirt.
Turning to look up at Quinn as she sits with food, she nods, "I think she will be fine, get some well earned free time, sir." She smiles and looks at Quinn, "She is very lovely. I am quite jealous." She says with a growing smile. "First I get to meet Elpis and make her an honorary crewman…than you little one." She intones, shifting just a little so that all can watch the child. Hazel eyes rest on Lysander then and she motions him over as he tries to relax. Shifting enough to free her top hand, Circe brushes her finger across the tiny hand that grips her shirt. She leans down and places a brush of a kiss to Kalli's head. She breathes in deeply again and almost thinks about stealing away the child just for that reason. Baby smell.
Lysander shakes his head to Circe as she tries to goad him closer. He's one seat away and blissfully ecstatic at that distance, any closer and he's in range of getting his hair grabbed or cheek pulled or collar choked or something else by baby-sized hands. He knows they're stronger than they look. "So, eventually," he says, "Eventually. As it stands, finding the right woman about that is hard. Finding the time for that is even harder. But." He lifts his drink in informal toast to Quinn, "Congratulations."
Quinn smirks a bit darker…"Well, finding the right woman doesn't necessarily have to be a part of the equation, as our sterling commander proved." it's -fairly- common knowledge that Tillman himself knocked up the woman and then left her for loneliness. Hell, ships rumors say he's not even come to see the baby. She tries to shake off the bitterness as she takes another bite of her food and relaxes back in her seat a bit more. Meanwhile, Kalli has fine her comfortable, warm crook against Circe's neck and chest and her little eyes are losing the battle against sleep very quickly now.
"Yes, congratulations.." Circe says and catches the faint change in Quinn's expression. The medic offers a warm but gentle smile - empahetic to a fault. "You have a very lovely daughter. And she is lucky to have such a strong mother." The corpsman offers and then brushes her hand down over Kalli's head gently before she hums a few more bars. Lysander is given a faint look, her gaze lingering a moment before she closes her eyes and lowers her cheek to rest for amoment atop Kalli's head. There is a deep breath drawn - smelling again and Circe swallows hard. She lifts her head and blinks her eyes open, for the moment not making eye contact with either as she leans back in the chair slowly so as not to disturb Kalli.
Lysander pauses and then measures out a lackluster shrug, "I've lived alone - other than with my squad as they come an' go over the years - alone for a long time, eventually that'll change. It's boring, trite. It's a challenge but being fa-," he glances over towards Circe as she's looking at him, and then he looks to Kalli, before focusing back on Quinn. "Sterling commander aside, eventually," right now is clearly not the time. He has a drink to innocently sip at while they fawn over the baby.
Quinn nods slowly, "You're too kind, Lagana. Thank you." She takes a few more bites of her food, putting it away pretty damn fast like she hasn't eaten all day. She probably hasn't. "And yes, Lysander… this isn't really the time. but life happens. We move on and adapt."
"I just speak the truth.." Her voice sounds tight at first, but the medic clears her throat lightly and seems to ease once more. She hums softly and smiles, the warmth of it growing as she brushes fingers across Kalli's back. "I had a nephew on Leonis..my sister's son. He was born just as small..but the last I saw him he was two. Knew his aunt.." she muses in thought, her head lifting as she speaks to them both. "Last time I held him he nearly toppled me in the lake…" She laughs at the thought and then realizes a lot of that was said outloud and she looks a bit sheepish as her eyes move downward. Circe looks to Quinn then, beaming at the woman. "If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to come to the sickbay."
Lysander lowers his cup just enough to let the rim rest near to his chin. The touch reminds him that he is in need of shaving. Self-appointed reminders aside, he nods in idle agreement to Quinn before offering a small smile, "When less there is danger we'll see." He then turns his attentions toward Circe and listens to the medic. There's a moment where he simply considers her. The next moment has him turning back to Quinn and offering: "She's a great babysitter, loves them to death. When she's not fixing broken people, she's daydreamin' about having some of her own." He lifts a hand to gesture with a small wave. "Trust me, she's a great gal."
Quinn takes her last bite of gruel just in time for a familiar, faint scent to come over the crowd. Of course, Circe probably felt it a moment before they smelled it. Oh yes, Kalli is up to something, and it's filling her diaper! Maggie's nose wrinkles, the cloth, reusable, makeshift diapers not nearly so dry keeping as the ones that were on the colonies, so changing the baby fast is vital. She stands, "here, dearies… I should take her and get this changed or things will soon be a mess. Thank you for holding her while I ate. It was good seeing you both." She reaches out for the messy baby.
Circe actually laugha at Lysander, "You got all of that from seeing me hold one baby…I must have been very convincing." She says but as the shift along her lower arm is felt, she hmmmms. The smell shortly follows and not unfamiliar with it, Circe does not immediately react in a bad way. She does clear her throat and grin down at the little gem. She shifts then, nodding. "Of course.." Circe rises from her seat and pushes it back with a flix of her calves. She begins to move and adjust Kalli for a passing to her mother. "Here we are little one.." As she gets a hand free, the medic lifts her hand to gently unhinge the tiny fingers from her shirt.
"Pretty much, yeah," replies Lysander to Circe. He calls it how he sees it, but when he smells it he wrinkles the bridge of his nose and turns innocuously away. It might smell but he also can cover up trying to hide from it by eating what's left of his food. Turning back around to the three while swallowing, he nods to the Air-Winger, "Was a pleasure."
Quinn smiles wide to both of them, "If someone could get my tray, I'll get this? Be safe out there…" And with that, Maggie half dashes Kalli out of the room, holding the baby out and hoping that Kalli's diaper doesn't leak before she gets somewhere with a flat change surface.
"We got it." Circe promises and her arms suddenly feel cold and she really didn't mind the smell. The crewman watches the woman dash out and moves to take up the tray. She stops and then holds out her hand for his as she rounds the table. "Can I get that for you, sir?" She asks, tilting her head and raising a brow with a faint smile. Lagana taps a sandaled foot as she waits for his tray.
"On it, sir," is called out by Lysander with regards to the tray. Quinn gets to handle the baby. They get to take care of the food remains left behind. They got the easier of the two jobs. He gives a light salute and then turns his gaze to Circe and then raises an eyebrow to her offer. For the moment, he doesn't budge and instead answers her with a question. "Aren't I the one that's supposed to take our trays?"
"Is that something snipers are to do?" She asks him with curiousity and a well managed grin. She curls her fingers and moves them in a motion to summon his tray - Force or not. "I took care of mine already, and I am up." She says.
Circe muses over him and keeps her hand extended, her grin spreading further.
Lysander raises one eyebrow to Circe and the other one isn't too far away in joining it. He levels a more questioning look as he debates his potential answers. "Maybe," but there is logic to her words that he can't exactly deny; yet, though she may be strong in the Force, he begins to stand and brings his tray with him, glass placed atop it. "Now I'm up too, so," he leans slightly forward and glances down to her hand, "It might be something we're wont to do. Sit, be merry." Not everything has to be logical.
She stands there a moment or two longer before that grin brightens a bit further and she hands him Quinn's tray. "Very well, Lys. But sitting means I go back to studying.." She says and begins to move about him for her chair and books. Baby holding had been a very merry experience. She swears she can still scent the lingering presence of Kalli and it makes her glow all the more. She sighs and picks up her books, moving them back to the table now that there is more
room.
He could very easily speak up and spoil the moment but it's her smile that keeps him from replying. He instead simply offers a pleasant little smile in turn and holds onto Quinn's tray with a firmer grip in order to carry both that one and his away. It doesn't take him long to deliver them for cleaning and he's soon returning to the table, just to look at Circe and her books. The books are given a lingering look before he settles back into the chair next to her. A sugar cookie is held out for her to claim. There's a small stack in his off-hand.
As she has taken her usual sitting stance, one foot curled up on the edge of the chair, she has shucked her sandals. She hooks an arm around her leg and leans forward, hugging her knee to her chest. Circe is opening to her marked pages and starting to take more notes when the hovering sugar cookie catches her eye. As she looks up through some of her curls, her smile renews. "Thanks, Lys.." she says and bends her leg downwards as she releases her arms hold on it. She reaches for it, taking it and placing it in her mouth to take a bite. She munches on it and makes a few more notes with her pen in hand. "Sorry for the baby coma I was in.." she states with a smirk, looking up at him from her work.
One minute, the cookie is there. The next comes and his hand is empty, with Circe going about munching on it. So Lysander replaces it with the second and begins to eat it just the same as she does hers. A portion is held in his mouth as he undoes the front collar of his uniform, unfastening it further than before so that it hangs open rather than half-buttoned. Mmm, it's a thoughtful sound that crawls up from the depths of his throat and parts his lips into a light grin. "I take it you want kids then?"
She scrawls a few more words and turns her head a bit as she munches her cookie and pauses at his question. There is a softening of her gaze and she nods her head, "Well I did. Considering everything now, children is not a good option." She says. Circe loses some of her luster with those thoughts and tursn her attention to the book at hand for a long moment and seems caught and clutced by it. She clears her throat, "I had plans for a family. That kinda got frakked over." She says, easing a smile back to her lips. "What about you?" She asks him, a brow lifting higher.
Lysander takes his time in finishing off that first cookie, letting himself relish in the taste and even nearly distract himself from the conversation. He swallows down both cookie and a welling, self-conscious knot forming at his throat and then begins to nod in agreement with Circe. It then gets quiet with her focusing on her books and him his cookies. When she speaks back up he looks over to her while beginning to place his far elbow at the edge of the table's surface. "I had three tours of duty under my belt, all on Sag', and now I'm here. I was going to settle down for a family after the third, or fourth, or fifth," he snorts out a breath, wryly directed at himself, "I could never decide. I guess it's a rather moot point now, huh?"
"We all had plans..wishes and futures that we longed for." She sighs, rubbing at her face as she feels her stomach start to turn in sick rememberence. SHe had tries to release it and yet the past was constantly hounding her in one form or another. The baby was one. Circe smiles and then closes her eyes, resting her chin on her hand. "Did you have someone?" She asks, "Someone before warday? I mean if you had plans to settle down…I figure you entertained a lady friend." It is a gentle pry, not meant to harm.
The best remedy that the Sergeant can offer is another cookie and friendly smile, and he thinks himself rather good in both areas of expertise. "Used to, not anymore it seems, but I would fancy those memories and plans while so lost after the Holocaust. It's one of the things that kept me going. I write about it every once in a while. I don't know. There's no way you couldn't be entertained by someone, but," he stops talking. It's seemingly only due to Lysander's beginning to
The last statement is more truth than anything and Circe lets her forehead rest on her hand, staring listlessly at the words in her texts. A deep breath drawn, she stretches her hands outwards, trying to break her inward thoughts that just scream trouble for her already shakey hold on herself at the moment. She swallows and takes the next cookie offered - drowning herself in sugary goodness. The medic is silent for a good long while before she answers. "It is very hard to move on. It took me a year…still not certain I have proven to myself that I am yet." She smiles faintly and then pushes the book closed, drawing the other to her. She just can't focus. Grump.
Lysander slowly nods, matter-of-factly, before swallowing. The cookies taste good at least. If he could, he would solely eat them. Since his hand is filled with holding a cookie, he points to the books with his right hand's pinky finger. "Are you sure you can even concentrate on words with all of this baby-talk? I know I wouldn't be able to." He allows a beat to grow pregnant before leaning in closer to her and quietly offering. "If it's of any consolation, I'm sure sooner rather than later there'll be a chance for you to, you know, live out that particular dream of yours."
She can't and it's that obvious. She draws her gaze from her book and starts to close it when he leans in to speak. Circe just meets that gaze feeling her chest tighten a little. She draws something of a silent ragged breath before she offers him a gentle, if not sad smile. "Considering how things are, I would say that would a cruel hope becuase it will never happen. But I know you mean well, Lys." She says. He may have aimed to cheer her up but it has had some what of an opposite affect. "Besides…doctors can't go on maternity leave and it would be foolish for a marine to be as well. I have a job to do. I can't go being selfish." She smile sat that, sliding her book closed finally.