Brother Can You Spare A Pen
Brother Can You Spare a Pen
Summary: Castor and Cygnus come to visit Legacy who needs a favor for Roubani.
Date: PH 038 (26 May 2009)
Related Logs: None

-Recovery Ward-

Except for Roubani laying asleep on his bed, there is only the usual bustle of nurses around and a few bunks sealed off from the rest of the world - hiding any number of things.

Castor takes a step into the sickbay, he has returned with his brown bag full of goodies for wounded pilots. All of the things inside of it are on the approved list and the Aquarian seems to be in a better mood this time. He looks over at Roubani's bed and he studies the pilot for a moment before he turns to see if anyone else is up or moving.

There's a curtain drawn around one bed, the one where Kai had been earlier in the day. There's some quiet murmuring going on behind the curtain.

Castor steps over to the curtain and says, "Hey Cap, you in there I found some girly mags for you - well, more of the women in lingere with the articles about how to work out better but it is better than nothing, right?" His voice has a sense of humor about it but only the Major knows what is really in that brown bag of his.

There's sounds of movement behind the curtain and then it's pulled back just enough to reveal Legacy on the other side, brow quirked ever so slightly. One hip cocks to the side as she stands there in her off-duties, looking tired and worn, but smiling. "Girly magazines, hmmm," she asks, lips pursing. "You know, Tinleg, I'm just desperate enough that girls might just do it for me. Which page is good?"

There's sounds of movement behind the curtain and then it's pulled back just enough to reveal Legacy on the other side, brow quirked ever so slightly. One hip cocks to the side as she stands there in her off-duties, looking tired and worn, but smiling. "Girly magazines, hmmm," she asks, lips pursing. "You know, Tinleg, I'm just desperate enough that girls might just do it for me. Which page is good?"

It's been another one of those long days for Mac. Though unfortunately this one wasn't filled with extra time spent in PT and the sims. Instead, he'd given his full attention to the tasks which his CO had tasked him; namely conducting the morning and evening services in the chapel. He'd done so with his full focus to detail, and yet, he couldn't help feeling out of place as he'd done so. As if somehow he were masquerading as something he was not. As the Padre had said of Cygnus the night before; it was a difficult place to be, straddled across two paths in life. Now that all of his duties have been fully discharged, he finds the time to head to the recovery ward to check on his fellows pilots, slipping quietly into the room owing to the lateness of the hour.

Castor reaches into his bag and says without missing a beat, "Pages eight, forty two, seventy three are all excellent. Especially page eight, sir," He then says, "However, I've got a grab bag of goodies for everyone seeing as how I fast talked others into making donations for you lot, sir." He then notices Cygnus' entrance and he says, "Hows it going, Prophet. How are you holding up?" Castor speaks to Cygnus as a pilot and not a priest so his tones are friendly and concerned.

"I had better days," Cygnus keeps his voice pitched at a low and muted level, he has no intention of waking or disturbing those who are asleep or otherwise resting. "But I've also had much worse." A few steps carry him over nearer to Tinman. "I don't know… I just never quite feel comfortable conducting services. I mean, I'll do it when I have to, it just feels… off to me, you know?" There's a thoughtful pause before he asks in a very serious manner, "How is everyone doing?"

Castor quirks an eyebrow and says in amused tones, "All services seem off to me." He puts extra emphasis on the 'All' though he teases, "And they are off because you are a pilot deep down and soon enough you'll be free of that pulpit and back in the cockpit where you belong." He then says, "Everyone is doing well, I think." He says as his eyes look over at Roubani for half a second as he turns, "Hey, if you want to talk about everything I'm here to listen," And there it is, the Aquarian is worried about his family and it comes out in his voice, "then again if they set us to condition three I'd offer you a drink."

Thea opens the magazine and flips through to the mentioned pages, cocking her head to the side as she studies each in turn, half-listening to the men talk. "Hmmmm," she murmurs after a bit. "Not bad. Not my taste, but not bad. And what do you mean 'you lot,' Tinleg," she asks, quirking a brow at him, looking between Prophet and Tinman curiously. "The Captain has left as has Fingers. Poet's the only one left."

Cygnus has to smile at that, but before he addresses Castor's words, his eyes also track in Roubani's direction as he asks, "Has the Ensign regained consciousness yet?" There's a definite undercurrent of concern in his voice on behalf of the soft spoken pilot. Beyond the immediate medical concerns, he also worries about what this is going to do to Roubani's confidence in the cockpit, all things considered. There's no end to the ammount of appreciation he feels for the way that Castor asserts he's a pilot, "Hopefully I will, but that's going to be Vendas, Marek and the Padre's call when it comes down to it. I want it, bad. So bad I can taste it, but I worry that the Padre might have different ideas. I'm worried he's thinking I'm meant to be a priest." A small shudder actually ripples its way up his spine as says as much. When Legacy's voice drifts to his ears he locates the origin of the voice and offers her a small, crisp salute. "Good evening, Captain, how are you feeling tonight?"

Castor looks over at Thea, "It is an Aquarian colloquialism that refers to a group of people, Cap." His tones are dry he may be joking or he may be serious. He looks into the bag, "I've got some books, magazines, and other things in here if you want something help yourself, sir." He opens the bag and offers it to Thea. He then looks over at Cygnus and says, "Never mind about the Padre we need pilots and command knows it." He then adds, "Besides Captain Marek will want you back in I'm sure." He goes quiet waiting to see how Legacy is doing.

Thea smiles a bit at the two men. She seems relaxed, for the most part. "I'm alive, been sitting with our patients. Fingers and Spider are back in berthings. Poet regained consciousness this morning, but is pretty heavily drugged. He's been in and out of sleep most of today. If you all don't mind, I'll leave most of the books and what not on his bedside table, so he has something to look through?" Her attention bounces between both men. "Actually, I do have a favor to ask, if you're both interested?"

'From your mouth to the Gods ears, Tinman," Is Mac's reply to Castor's words about his possible reinstatement. In a moment of humor he tosses a wink in Thea's direction, quipping, "If you've been sitting here since last night, I'm surprised you can still feel your a… ah, your seat, Sir." Cygnus knows firsthand just how uncomfortable the chairs in the recovery ward can become after awhile. He soon turns serious again, however, as he nods in her direction, "Of course, Sir, how can I be of assistance?"

Castor teases, "Sir, if the favor you want is for me to make out with Cygnus you should know he isn't my type and I'm pretty certain until regs but if it gets you out of here faster I suppose I can try." He then looks over at Cygnus, "The Lords have nothing to do with it, we need pilots bottom line." He then looks back to Thea hoping he got a laugh out of the Captain before he says, "What do you need, sir, because I'm in."

Thea just looks at the two men for a very long moment, looking each one up and down slowly, pointedly. "Well, since the CAG would have my ass in a sling for having a threesome in the recovery ward, we'll have to go with something else," she says, tone dry. "What I need from the two of you is pens. Just just plain old pens, but I need for you to see if you can beg or cadge some nice, fun pens, pretty pens. Pens that look cool." She looks over toward Roubani's bed. "I think they might make Poet laugh."

Oh no he just didn't! If Cygnus' hair wasn't bound so tightly at the base of his neck into a ponytail, the motion he makes with his head at Castor's words would totaly be described as a hairflip. The movement is accompanied by a mock sniff, and an indignant look. "You're just afraid of how beautiful I am," He says in a manner that sounds like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, even going so far as to bat his eyelashes in Tinman's direction. One hand raises and waves in a dismissive manner, "Bah, I'm too good for you, anyway." It's a strange thing to be joking about, really, considering some of the things that Mac carefully keeps to himself, but he's not above joking about it. Attention turning back to Legacy, he gives the Raptor Commander a serious nod, "Pens? I think that can be managed somehow. I might have one or two myself back at my berthings, though I'm not certain how 'fun' they are."

Castor responds in the same dry tones, "Well, that is a pity that there will be no getting it on, however, finding pens is always an acceptable substitution, sir." He then looks over at Cygnus, "You are a pretty man and all but like I said, not my type." He then thinks about a certain combat medic on the ship before he takes a moment to look over at Roubani and he says in all seriousness, "Yeah, okay, I can do that." He points to the bag, "I managed to get all of those magazines and books you know, what are a couple of pens. Give me a number though, sir."

"No real number, three or four should do it," Thea says, laughing quietly. "Maybe each. Just something he can get his fingers around. Now both of you, off the damned ward, please. I'll let Thumper know you've both been by. The Medical staff's about to throw us all out if we keep disturbing them." There's no heat behind her words, just teasing.

"Thumper?" One of Mac's eyebrows arches upwards towards his hairline, since that's not a callsign or nickname he's familiar with. Especially if it's one applied to Roubani. "I promise I'll see what I can do, Cap. Maybe I can even manage to liberate one from the Padre since it's for a good cause."

Castor offers, "I do remember seeing someone with a pink pen with a pink furry grip and a little pink heart on the top." He then says, "And I think I saw someone with one of those pens that writes in different colored ink." He then shakes his head, that is the street rat in him, already thinking about what would be good and where to get it. "Come my next visit, I reckon I'll have those two pens for you." He then thinks, "Oh, and there is one of those girly pens. You know the kind filled with water and when you squeeze the bottom a girl in a swimsuit floats to the top. I have to find one of those too." He then rubs his chin, "That one might be harder to get."

"Thumper," Thea says with an impish grin. "But don't let Marek hear you calling Poet that. I started calling Poet that after his last concussion. As for the girly pen…" She shakes her head ever so slightly. "I don't think we want to push Poet, guys. Seriously. He's a religious young man and I think that would serve to embarass the hell out of him, if you know what I mean." Again, no real heat, just a gentle smile.

Cygnus simply shakes his head at that, after all, he could definitely be considered a religious man, but alternatively he doesn't have any issues with the idea - or act - of sex. Then again, Mac's from Tauron, rather than Sagittaron. After a moment he trains a speculative eye on Tinman, "Have you like… cataloged everything you've seen in everyone's possession, or something?" It's truly boggling to him, how Castor knows just who has what type of pens. "You planning on starting up some sort of trading post or something?" To Legacy he explains, "I wouldn't dream of calling him that, Cap," one shoulder lifts in a shrug, "he doesn't even like me to call him Poet." A sign, perhaps, of the fact that Cygnus is not a pilot on the Kharon.

Castor looks at Cygnus, "No trading posts yet Prophet." He doesn't mention anything about being homeless and doing what he could with his brother to survive but it left its mark on Castor and he does pay attention to who has what on the ship. He then looks back at Legacy, "Aye Cap, I'll leave the girly pen alone then." He says, "Thumper is family and all so I'll respect him."

Legacy dips her head to the men, and they can both see a bit of relief in her eyes. "Thank you, gentlemen," she says, voice soft and quiet. "Get some rest and take care of yourselves, please?" Her head cocks to the side slightly.

"I'll do my best, Cap. Maybe now that things have quieted back down some, I'll be able to hit the sims again tomorrow." With everything that's gone on in the past two days, Mac hasn't had the chance to hone his piloting skills. Now that Roubani is out of the woods though, no doubt Ajax will be back conducting services as usual come morning, which will free up some of his time. "I hope you're able to get some rest yourself, Sir."

Castor picks up his brown bag since he is going to need some of what is in it to get those two pens, "Prophet, we've got work to do." He then takes on last look at Roubani and his eyes drift to Legacy, "We're on it, Cap, come tomorrow morning I'll have those two pens for you. If you aren't up I'll leave them with the nurse." he then taps Cygnus on the shoulder before he heads out himself in seach of his prizes.

Legacy watches the men for a moment, then slips back behind the curtain, pulling it shut behind her as she goes.

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