Black V Black
Black v Black
Summary: The siblings Black have a cheerful family reunion.
Date: MD05 (27.Feb.2009)
Related Logs: Occurs just after Mother May I.
Players:
Jupiter..Martin..

CEC Kharon, Deck 2, Sickbay

The hatchway immediately opens into the larger room, though the muted blues of the room are complimented by the white sheets on the various beds lying at wait for any injured personnel, which are lain out in neat rows. Curtains are available around certain bed bays for examinations and privacy during them. Rows of lockers around the room are labeled in easy-to-read yellows that contain everything from surgical supplies to the basic items such as sterilized bandages. A counter to the Fore end of the room is the ships pharmacist and can dispense items like aspirin and ibuprofen to anyone who might need it. Behind the manned counter stands an electronically locked metal door that leads back to some of the more controlled pharmacological items. To the rear of the room is a specially designated and sealed 'clean area' for surgeries.

Jupiter is seated in the middle row of the gurneys with someone poking at her left eyebrow. "Ow, Frak. Oh, ham hands. Don't you have a plastic surgeon aboard?" There's loud grousing going on from her, of course. "That hurts!" Bitch bitch bitch.

Step…Step…Step…

A pair of boots steps slowly in the direction of the gurney as a male approaches. Arms folded across his chest, Martin Black steps within eyeshot of the gurney and moves to stay at the end of it. "Well…the more things change, Peanut, the more they stay the same. Face finally collapsing under all that ugly huh?"

There's a growl from Jupiter as the doc clips the final suture's extra stringy bit. "Frak you, Boner. How the hell… what personnel officer did you bone to get a transfer to my frakkin' ship? How the hell did you even find out? I just got the papers, you little shit!" The doctor seems mildly amused, but just annoyed enough to be glad of the distraction so he can escape to deal with more pleasant patients.

"Go on a date with a girl that works in personnel and tell her that you'll take her out on a beach weekend when something comes down the pipe with your name on it?" Martin grins, quite pleased with himself. He nods in the direction of her fresh wounds. "So what little girl did that to you and why? Who do I have to shake down?" He asks. "….and don't call me boner."

That devilish grin curves her lips, flashing teeth to the younger Black. "You're such a whore." Jupiter shakes her head, and frowns, then regrets it as her sutures pull. Luckily her forehead is currently numb. "I had a chat with a six foot marine. It got lively." The grin widens.

"Yeah well, I learned from the best." Martin grins to her, moving to sit on the bed beside her. Looking over the sutures, he lowers his eyes to her face and nudges her side lightly. "So this means we're gonna get even with the guy, right? This was a guy, right? You're not getting into chickfights for attention anymore?"

"As if I ever did it for the attention," Jupiter mutters, reaching over to pick up a small mirror to check out her face. She gives it a long hard look, blue eyes intent. "Not bad." She doesn't piss or moan about her face. The bruises are already coming up. "There isn't enough concealer in the colonies…" She glances over to Martin. "You wanna double team some poor marine who's barely armed already? That's like kicking a retarded cross eyed puppy to try to teach it to pee straight."

"No…no there isn't enough concealer in the colonies." Martin replies with an evil grin on his face. She walked into that one. "There will never be enough concealer, you'll just have to find a guy that'll settle." He goads, letting out a slow sigh. "Well…some guy thinks it's okay to rough up my big sister you know he's gonna deserve a talk with me in the least, even if you deserved it."

Jupiter shoots a look at Martin, and kicks him right in the shin. Walking through certain doors gets you kicked in the shin. "You can't go talking to a marine on my behalf after I talked smack about his Mommy. This is the military, not the playground. Get me a bandaid, Boner."

"Call me boner again and I'll make copies of that picture of you in the first grade in that shepherd girl dress when you pissed yourself in it." Martin warns, scowling as he rubs his shin. Even now she's a bully. Hopping off of the bed, he goes to a station to fetch a bandage for her, bringing it back to her. "And yes, I have that picture somewhere here."

"Make copies of that and I'll post the full color glossies of you and Billy Nicomedes naked and passed out in that baby pool of gelatin." She leans in slightly. "I have an entire scrapbook. You'll never get laid on this boat if you cross me, Marty." Ooooh.

Martin opens his mouth about to say something and then closes it. "Damnit you got a copy of that?" He grumbles. "I knew I should have invited you to that party because you always tried to shame me…" He sighs, rubbing his forehead. "You win for now…For now."

"And that's why I'm the big sister." Jupiter seems appeased, probably more due to the topical anesthetic than the small picture victory. "I'm probably going to get the 3rd degree as soon as I run into an officer above Lieutenant." She shrugs, not sounding worried in the least. "You in on this mission? Because… this means I'll finally get to see you fly." The grin returns. "What the hell's your callsign these days?"

"Yeah I am. Assigned to the squadron that you're in and despite my need to bust your balls I'm all business up there. Trust me, I've got your back and I don't play around with the job." Martin clears that one up right away. "You might learn a thing or two. They call me Dash. What about you?"

Jupiter unpeels the bandaid, tips it this way and that in the middle, scowls a little, the applies it diagonally across her eyebrow. It's probably going to be painful when she pulls it off. "I know you are, Marty. You get me killed, Ronnie and Dale would drop the pacifism so fast your head'll spin." She grins. "Fingers."

"What, like five?" Martin holds his hand up. It's a low blow. He's calling her loose. Of course, Martin would attack anyone that said these things to her. He chuckles and shakes his head. "Man mom and dad are so pissed at us, you know that right? Uncle Jarl wrote me a letter begging me to resign while it's still wartime. You get a copy of that?"

"Yeah, exactly like that." For once, Jupiter doesn't rise to the bait. Could be the painkillers and the portable ice pack she was handed. "You figure your way around this ship yet?" She shakes her head, "I didn't get any—Oh. He still thinks I set his truck on fire." She did set his truck on fire.

Martin's face contorts a little bit as he didn't actually want the answer. He scowls and shakes his head a little bit. "Frakkin hell, Peanut, I'm sorry I asked." He blinks, looking thoroughly disgusted. "I've figured a bit of it. I've got a little map in my pocket that I look at when no one's looking." He pauses. "Yeah, he warned me that I shouldn't end up like you. Dad wouldn't let him press the investigation."

Jupiter snickers. She runs her fingers through her hair and moves the curtain aside to step out from the gurney area. "Jarl is a drunken amateur. He'd never catch me for anything. I mean, the fire? Seriously? That was the first one he suspected me for?" She scoffs and goes to sign her paperwork so she can scoot. "Let's go hit the berthing. You get a good spot?"

"Nah, nothing yet. I need to get a bunk away from yours because as much as I hate to admit it, we both know what bunk life's like. Don't ruin my dates and I won't ruin yours. Deal?" He offers a fist to bump against hers, fully intending to interfere with her dates for the pure sport of it.

"So long as your date doesn't piss me the frak off, you got a deal." The female Black leads the way out of sickbay, for the grand trek through the ship to the pilot's berthing. Assuming Jupiter remembers where it is. Ah, a test of mental acuity. Luckily, she rarely gets lost. Makes running from the cops so much easier. I mean, navigating in space so much easier.

"So long as your date doesn't piss me the frak off, you got a deal." The female Black leads the way out of sickbay, for the grand trek through the ship to the pilot's berthing. Assuming Jupiter remembers where it is. Ah, a test of mental acuity. Luckily, she rarely gets lost. Makes running from the cops so much easier. I mean, navigating in space so much easier. She eyes the hand, then fistbumps. "All right, let's show these pilots how it's done."

— Just to be an asshole, Jupiter makes Martin lead the way to the berthings. —

Finally finding the berthings, Martin leads his sister inside and takes a look around. His things are under the table in the middle and have been left untouched. Folding his arms, he takes a look around and looks to bunk 10, pointing at it. "I claim that one…"

Jupiter points to the top row, seventh set of bunks. "That's mine." She glances around for a moment, then realizes she left her stuff in the gym earlier. With a little eyeroll, she opens up her locker, peels off her tank, shoves it inside, and pulls out a fresh sweatshirt. "You bring extra socks?"

"Yep…why?" Martin asks, grabbing his two duffel bags and moves over to his bunk. Always one for the lower bunks, he slides them onto the bed and opens up the locker and the cabinet beneath the bunk. Pulling out two combination locks, he glances in her direction. "I'm gonna keep this stuff locked up. I'm making it clear right now…"

Jupiter shakes her head slightly and sits down to pull off her shoes. The bunk under hers seems to be unoccupied. Woe to the pilot who takes that slot. Goodbye goodnight sleep. "It gets cold in here at night is all." She grins a little.

"I don't know why you take the top bunk. I don't understand the obsession with it for some people." Martin suddenly states, looking over to her. "You realize that if for any reason this thing lists you're gonna have five feet to fall to the floor. I mean seriously, where's the mystique in it?"

"I don't wanna sleep on the bottom. Farts sink." Jupiter glances over. "Besides, this way I can see what the guy under me is doing. Don't have to worry about someone kicking me in the face when they come back drunk. If this thing lists, we got bigger problems than impending floor."

"There's a layer of construction…stuff…in between the bunks. It's not like it's a screen." Martin says, bumping the roof of his bunk as he starts to unpack his stuff. He turns his back to her. "Wait…so the top bunk people spy?"

"You just have to lean over, genius." Jupiter shakes her head again. Little brothers, the look says. "Of course the top bunk people spy." She grins. "You're so young and innocent."

"And you're so old and used up." Martin replies with a grin, flashing her a wink as he starts to load his cabinets. Everything's already folded and ready to go. His personal effects come last. "I know they can, I just didn't know that they do. Are you really that desperate that you gotta spy on your bunkmate?"

"Your momma's old and used up," Jupiter snaps back with a smirk. "You folded everything? You're such a frakkin' boyscout." She tosses her shoes in her locker, and then reaches over to grab the little ladder and step up to her bunk, crawlin in to perch on the edge. "You think I watch my bunkmates for kicks?" She looks closer. "You brought your mags, didn't you?"

"Hey, at least I don't have Dad's hairy back…" Martin replies. It's no secret that she's daddy's girl and he's mama's boy. Closing and locking everything down, Martin stows his service pistol in his locker and double checks the lock. "Bet your ass I did. Why you wanna borrow em?"

"Oh, thank you very much for bringing up that visual." Jupiter reaches up to pull some scented lotion from her shelf, and begins the ritual rubbing down of the feet and calves. "I have my own masturbatory aids, thank you very much. I don't need your sticky ones."

Martin heads across the room to her bunk and slaps her foot lightly. "Oh and hey…" He looks up to her. "…it's good seein you again, Peanut." He offers her a genuine smile before heading back to his bunk. Quickly changing into his boxers and a tank top, he slides into the bed and yawns. "Frak I gotta see the CAG tomorrow…"

"I missed you, too. You make me look good." Lotion is rubbed into one foot, then the other, up the leg, under the sweats. She shakes her head and finishes them off, then tugs her sweats back down. Lotion up the arms, elbows. Girly peach scent wafts across the berthing. "Ronnie and Dale know you transferred?" She glances over from her high perch, reaching up to remove her earrings.

"Yeah…Mom and Dad know. I wrote to them. They want me to keep an eye out for you. I know that ain't gonna happen, but I've still got your back, you know that, Sis." He says with a yawn, closing the curtains and getting comfortable in the strange new bed. "Only happy thing I've heard them say about our careers since the start."

Jup glances over again, looking from her little shelf of personal items to Martin. "We'll watch out for watch out for each other, little brother. Nobody fraks with you but me." She grins widely, in a way that suggests it might be a long, looong cruise.

A hand sticks out from the curtain, middle finger raised. "I love you Jupiter. Get your ass to bed. I'm frakking tired." Martin states. It's almost like that one camping trip where she kept him up all night on purpose.

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