As the Washing Machine Churns
As the Washing Machine Churns
Summary: Another day in the life of laundry.
Date: PHD057 (15 June 2009)
Related Logs: None.

Laundry - Deck 3

Lines of whirring and sloshing machines extend far into the rear of this room. The off-white color of the machines appear in mild contrast to the battleship gray walls and flooring, the smell somewhere between detergent and dryer sheets. Beaten and heavily used metal folding tables are the only other objects in this room, their stainless steel surfaces kept clean by the hundreds of articles of clothing thrown over them every day.

Roubani is doing laundry. Shockingly. Sitting in a chair by one of the churning washers, he has his feet pulled up on the seat so his legs can serve as a table for his sketchbook, upon which he's idly shadowing.

Castor has arrived.

It's always so damn warm in here, especially now that climate control is manually monitored throughout the ship. For the occasion of doing laundry, Eddie has stripped down to tanktops and fatigue pants where a lesser woman (or one with less scars) might wear just a sports bra and shorts. The neckline of her tanks reveals a nice bruise she's sporting, that looks the vague dimensions of her viper's harness. She's toting just a small bag of laundry today, perhaps keeping up with her own now that she doesn't have to do Martin's on top of it. Thank the gods that bet is over. Her features light up when she sees Roubani manning his post, "Rubix."

Roubani gets much dirtier these days than he used to. Gone are the days of doing third-full or half-loads just to ensure everything stays clean. Everything does not stay clean when you work in engineering. He's even out of sweats, making do in some slightly non-regulation pants that look sort of like pajamas, and his drab dual tanks. Bare feet. Socks are washing, too. He looks up from the sketchpad, just his eyes visible above his knees for a second. "Hey." His shoulders roll back, very carefully. "I need you to smile."

Eddie drops her laundry bag onto the floor in front of Roubani's chair, using that as a convenient cushy seat that she drops her rump down onto. Seems she's in no hurry to do her laundry, or she's easily distracted by Roubani. "Smile? Sure Zeus himself won't strike me down with a might lightening bolt if I do?" She pulls her lips wide, her teeth clenched together. "How's dis?" She asks, trying not to move her mouth.

Castor steps into the berthings as he moves to wash his clothes, he throws his greens, blacks, and greys into the wash as he throws some detergent in and starts the wash. He is wearing his off duties and it would appear that the heat doesn't bother him in fact he is in a fairly good mood - who knows maybe it is something related to life on Aquaria. He then takes a moment to put a cigar in his mouth, it isn't a good one, but it isn't a bad one either. He the looks up as he scans the room, "Mooner and Poet." He says as if to say welcome to the pair and with that he moves to light the cigar.

"…a touch constipated," Roubani appraises forgivingly. "But it's a start." He smiles himself, a little bit, and seems to notice something about the corner of her left eye, watching it for a second. Then it's down to the sketchpad and some erasing. Erase erase, blow little particles everywhere. His eyes flicker up as someone else's voice appears. "Good evening, sir."

Ashe has arrived.

Eddie is quick on the uptake that Roubani is sketching. And possibly sketching /her/. So she tries to stay as still as possible. "But a pretty constipated? Unless you're just using me as a model for some horror pic." Okay, so she's given up trying not to move her mouth, it's just too much effort. Eddie sits on a bag of laundry, poised on the floor infront of a chair that Roubani occupies with his sketch pad. Castor is off to the side, tending to his own machine and toking up a cigar. To the latter, Eddie just greets, "Tinman."

Castor reaches into his pocket and he pulls out a nice cigar, well, not top of the line but nicer than what he is smoking. He looks at Eddie, "Heard you had a birthday." He holds out the cigar to Eddie as if it were an offering, "So, happy birthday." He turns over to Poet, "So, anything going on or am I crashing the party as per usual?" He takes a puff of his cigar and blows the smoke away from others. He reaches into his pocket he pulls out a flask, he is off duty and frak if he isn't going to tie one on it as he waits for his laundry. He wanders over against the wall, "Anyone one want a bit of rotgut?" He then pauses as he hears the topic of conversation "Constipated, you been eating MRE's again Mooner?"

Roubani fixes whatever he was doing on the sketch, glancing up at Eddie's face a couple times. "A gorgeous constipated," he mumbles absently. "Spectacular, stunning, et cetera. I am certain Lieutenant Leda will confirm while I just…get this one thing." And silent he falls to work until it's the way he wants it, then the pencil gets slid between the spirals of the book. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, cast-entrusted arm quite clearly in some pain today no matter what he does. "Rotgut, sir?"

Big bag of laundry slung over his shoulder, 'That Marine' walks into the Laundry area and makes a casual beeline towards the first machine he spots that is unoccupied. Tossing it open, he begins to toss his laundry in without any sort of 'sorting' or such and gets it started. Only then does he glance around to see which others are present, a half scowl, half smile dotting his face at each in turn.

Eddie takes the cigar graciously, tucking it right down in her virtually non existant cleavage. "Thanks, Sir. That was nice of you." She doesn't feel inclined to light it up, however, maybe because her proclivities lean towards cheap cigarettes. Eyes flick momentarily to the newcomer, giving him a random wink in greeting that likely means nothing other then 'yo'. Seeing that Roubani seems to be finished, she leans forward, trying to peer over the top of the page. "Gonna let me see?"

Castor produces a flask, a large silver one, "Booze, hooch, truth syrum, hair of the dog, all of that…this is brandy from Picon I believe." He then adds, "Were I not a taken man I am sure such a pictureo of beauty would raise my manly passions and I would be forced to write a sonet or take on some other artistic goal in order to win the love of such an image of beauty as not even the angels have seen." He then looks over at Ashe as the Marine walks in, "Lance Corporal." He then leans back as he opens his flask and he takes a sip. "Mooner, the Ensign will let you see it when he is good and frakking ready, stop pushing things. We have an expression on Aquaria, 'Patience is a virtue.' So, you know, be patient."

Cigarettes, yes. Roubani shakes his head at the offers from Castor, fishing a battered cig pack from his pocket. "Appreciated, sir, but." You know him, guys. He offers the pack wordlessly to Eddie like a ritual, flipping the cover of the sketchbook over with his teeth. "No. Take a lesson from Aquaria or something." As they both look towards Ashe so does he. The last time he saw the man he was pretty damn high on painkillers, so he's as good as unfamiliar. He gives the Marine a nod.

Sniffing a bit, Ashe looks down at the shirt he is currently wearing and after a moment of frowning, shrugs and lifts it off to toss in the wash as well. Apparently laundry waited one day too long. Hopping himself up on the machine to relax, he nods towards the others, "Sirs." The polite enough greeting though the wink does have him tilting his head before asking. "How's that ham sandwich you call a face doin'?" Despite it he delivers the question with something that could almost be concern.

Eddie smirks as she's denied a peek at his sketch, taking one of Roubani's cigarettes as a consolation prize and tucks it in the corner of her mouth. Seeming how the little modeling session is over, she grunts back up to her feet, and snatches up her laundry bag to finally deposit it in the washing machine. "Fine fine." She mutters to Castor and Roubani both. "And stop reminding us you're taken. I can't stand the heart ache." She says completely dry to the former. The top of the bag is uncinched and the whole thing is upended into the basin without care to color creed or cloth type. Ashe's comment causes a snort of laughter which sounds painful. Amusingly enough, it's not her face that's bruised, by her chest and shoulders. "Takes a licking but keeps on ticking."

Castor takes a moment to blow a smoke ring and a moment later he takes a pull from his flask. "If either of you take a swing at each other, I swear I'm throwing you to the CAG and XO and may whatever gods you believe in have mercy on your soul." He then takes a moment to look over at Eddie, "Yeah, yeah, heartache…I know I'm the best fish on this ship." He teases as he knows he isn't. However he turns to add, "No but seriously, you both come to blows and bad things happen."

Roubani lofts a brow as Castor warns about coming to blows. He glances at Ashe, then Eddie, then the washing machine as though afraid that might be a third contender. Never know around here. A very faint smirk at the exchange about heartache and taking a cigarette from the pack, he moves his arm a little bit Ashe's way. "Would you like one, Lance Corporal."

Ashe blinks at the warning about coming to blows himself, looking at Castor, then at Eddie, then at Castor. "Wha?" He asks and shakes his head, laughing, "Naw, naw. See, she was workin' in the gym is all, I was watchin' a spar. Naw… I don't got any issues with er, well whoever she is? Hell, she seems my kind of gal." He offers a small nod towards Eddie. "I only lay out the pilots who I can't stand." The last is said with a smile before shaking a hand towards Roubani, "Thanks but I'll pass. Could never stand the taste."

Eddie closes the top of the washer with a clang, before hopping up on it. The cigarette still dangles from the corner of her mouth, unlit, which is something she's seeking to rectify. It takes a bit of juggling, trying to get something out of her top without disturbing the cigar there. She pulls out a lighter on a necklace. "Yeah, chill Leda. He's talking about my fistacuffs with Rabbit." She mumbles, before sparking up. Eddie flicks her gaze up to find Ashe's when he comments about his type. "Ensign Eddie Morales. AKA Mooner. Don't ask why I'm called that, you're better off not knowing."

Castor nods his head and says in a typical Aquarian custom, "Good well so long as we have an understanding and everyone's reputation is in tact we are full on…." He then loks at Eddie, "Eddie, I know, you hit one Marine, so let us not make it another." His words carry a gentle reminder tone. He then look at Ashe, "And Lance Corporal, she isn't your type, she is an officer." He then takes another drink from his flask, "My point is we are all family now so for frak sakes get along…why just earlier I had to appologize to another Jig for my behavior."

Roubani exhales through his nose at Castor's speech, rubbing his ring finger along his eyebrow. "So much for teatime." Drily amused there. He's found his own lighter somewhere and flicks it to life.

Ashe bites his tongue as long as he can before finally speaking, "You know Leda… if we're all family then… well. I'm not Gemenonon." He leaves it at that, grinning before nodding towards Eddie. "Ashe Swift, AKA 'That Marine'. I'm a legend in my own mind, I'm sure you understand. And really, Mooner? It's not like there's a lot of possible calls for that name unless you're howling at full moons or something else." He does look back towards the others. "I will say though, if we're all family, it's nice to know this is the family I'm stuck with." A pause, "You know, being the best looking one in the kin really boosts my self esteem."

Eddie holds up a pair of fingers at Castor, twiddling them at him. "Two. But they had it coming." She pulls her cigarette out of her mouth. "Shit, there he goes again about family. Tin, why don't you just write that shit down, have it printed out, and give us all a copy so if we really wanted to hear the same tired old lines, we could just pull it out of our pocket and give it a read." Her words are at least tempered with a bit of a smile in his direction, though no doubt that's partially fueled by Ashe's statement.

Castor looks at Eddie and he says in very serious tones, "Aw, Ensign, I'm a Jig, and so, I stop you." He then laughs breaking an sign of seriousness as he says, "All joking aside that is how we Aquarians work. We view our shipmates as family." He turns to look at at Ashe, "And Ashe you are family to me, the other may disagree but you are my family. Well, at least to Aquarians." He then takes a moment to rub his chin as he looks at Eddie, "No one comes close to my pockets, Mooner, well cept Kas." He then looks over at Roubani, "Teatime indeed." He then throws his flask back again as he looks at Ashe, "You want some?"

"Thanks but no, I got duty shortly." Ashe responds to Castor's offer before settling back on his washer and closing his eyes. "You know, disowning one's family is tradition, and let's be honest. Who amongst us didn't want to noogie and beat the living crap out of one of their siblings from time to time?"

Roubani smiles slightly. He's fallen into silence as he always tends to do in groups, avoiding all those scary social pitfalls by keeping his mouth shut and smoking. And listening. Mostly.

Eddie exhales the smoke out her nose, causing her nostrils to flare like an angry bull. "My main goal in life is to outrank you, Leda, so I can tell you to stow it." She reaches for an astray someone left conveniently on the machine next to her, still sitting on the one her clothes are in, perhaps waiting for the spin cycle. "Know what also goes hand in hand with our family metaphor? Incest." There. Maybe that'll get them off this subject.

Castor studies Ashe, "I would never cause harm to my brother." Funny choice of word as it is unsure if he means a universal brother or his dead one he does add, "Duty comes first." He then looks over at Eddie, "Well, that depends, are you taking a Caprican point of view or are you taking a Colonial point of view? I mean which cultural norms should we apply. On we have titles for our elders. On Caprica the people have nothing."

"Hah, speak for yourself Mooner." Ashe offers with a chuckle. "You'd have to actually get a romp to have it constitute incest… You sick bastards, I must be the only non family fraker left on this ship."

Eddie pulls her cigarette out of her mouth, studying the glowing ember on the end as she exhales another lungful of smoke. Ah, lung cancer. Maybe she'll die that way, instead of in a fiery death inside her Viper. "That means, Leda here quite possibly is the only one of us in present company who's getting tail on a regular basis. I say we jump him, and lock him in the supply closet." Her eyes flick to Roubani, just to make sure he's hanging in there.

Roubani retrieves his pencil from the spirals of his sketchbook. Instead of drawing on that paper, however, he starts doodling on the chair seat next to his leg. Less doodling than returning to his real idle-brain roots - it's some random equation with a smattering of strange-looking variables. He starts balancing it when Eddie busts out with that, and his eyes make a subtle flicker towards Castor. Oh dear.

Castor looks over at Eddie, "I an and so I am bugging out."

"We could have given him a tramp stamp." Ashe offers as he retreats, pondering. "Next time we hold him down, get the needles and just label him or some such. Because I figure if you're gettin' it regularly, you need to be ridiculed."

Eddie grins impishly as Castor beats feet out of the laundry room. "At least that means we don't have to stomach his claims that he hasn't had sex, much less polished his own rifle in seven years. Nookie with Kassia is more believable, at least." She gives a laugh at Ashe's words, with a small shake of her head. "Agreed. If only because we have to sit here and sour ourselves with jealousy."

Ashe nods his head towards the exit where Castor just departed. "Truth be told? The gent strikes me as one of those make love people. You know?" He shrugs and as Roubani slips off, looks around and finally lowers his voice. "Don't worry. I won't kill you… most of what you hear are rumors… well, most."

Eddie mmmms while she takes a drag of her cigarette, holding the smoke in her lungs while she responds. "And I didn't stand up on the table in mess hall and give my squadron leader the two cheek salute." Her smile grows a hint around the plume of smoke she exhales towards the ceiling.

"Really? That doesn't seem so bad." Ashe leans back with a smirk. "Come talk to me when you go into the lion's den stark naked and lay in the pit viper's bunk. Then we'll have something to talk about."

Eddie tucks one foot up on the washer with her, crooking her knee to rest a forearm on it. "That was you? Did it have a purpose other than seeing if you could cheat death or dismemberment by Brass?"

"Yeah, was me." Ashe sits quietly and then shrugs, "Honestly? The purpose I think was to try and rattle Fingers a bit. Just to show her that in this war we have going on I won't be backing down." Then he laughs and shakes his head, "Stupid right?"

Eddie gives a laugh as she hops down off the washer, some of her ash knocked off the end of her cigarette to dust her tanktops grey. Instead of raising her hand to brush it off, she gives an errant scratch with a fingernail to one of the many scars that march up her forearms. "Sounds like a playground crush, to me." She says simply, before going about the motions to change her laundry over.

"You're outta your mind on that one." Ashe states dryly towards Eddie. "I'd… and this has to stay here, I'd rather tear her up in the ring than have to really talk to her. I'm a calm guy most days, but that … ugh." He shakes his head but keeps his eyes closed.

With his eyes closed, he won't see the grin that spreads on Eddie's features which seems to call 'bullshit' on his words. "Last time I checked, there wasn't much talking involved in what blokes want to do to Fingers." Her laundry switched over, she starts the dryer on its cycle, "Do a girl a solid, and make sure no one fraks with my laundry, if you're sticking around?" Seems she's going to step out for a bit.

Opening an eye, he looks at her and just stares before nodding. "Aye, I'll get it. Anyone touches your shit and I'll break their fingers off one by one until they stop." His eye slides closed again as Ashe resumes rest time.

Eddie starts heading towards the hatch. "Man after my own heart. Thanks Swift." She uses his last name, which proves she was paying attention at some point. And then she's off to do whatever it is young Ensigns do when no one is paying attention.

Glancing up as soon as Eddie is gone, Ashe shifts a bit so he can open his own laundry, pulls out a pair of his drawers. Getting up, he tosses it into her laundry machine then just smiles and goes back to sit on his washer. "That'll do nicely."

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