| Meanwhile on the Other Side of the Kharon |
| Summary: | Some Marines chat it up after the Brass from Hestia drops by. |
| Date: | PHD225 |
| Related Logs: | After Warm Hearth - Hestia |
| Players: |
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Dell steps into the berthings quietly since this will be home for the forseeable future and he moves to his bed taking a seat followed by a breath as his hands rub his eyes for a moment, another day, another toaster killed, so a good day. Private Triptolemus opens up a small note book and he begins making marks in the note book and as a few marks are made the notebook is put away quietly.
Barney is next through the hatchway, most of his gear slung across an arm in an attempt to conceal the weary sagging of his shoulders as pure physcal fatigue. There's also the added bonus of him not wearing pants, having added the blood-soaked clothing to the aforementioned arm-pile just outside the door. Well, it stops trapsing, after all. That and the brisk pace he moves towards his locker suggest that a shower comes secondary to having something to change into. Or to be worn on the way there.
Kellin heads for his bunk, tossing his gear in before arranging it how he likes it "I have a feeling about the Admiral, like we are going to get a lot more action real soon" This isn't really pointed at anyone in particular.
Damon steps through, recently unarmed and back to being a defenseless marine that's not allowed to carry weapons. Now in his off duties, he lights a cigarette and steps past them all on the way to his bunk. "Maybe they got bigger rooms and need transfers." Damon offers, painting a new light on things. "Guess it's good for me that Shepherd already signed the writ."
Dell doesn't even hesistate in responding, "Good. The more of those sons of bitches we kill the better, sir." He says in impassioned tones. He takes off his boots and then he stands to get the things he will need to polish them up into a nice black shine. Spic and span, ooh-rah!
Barney's head is shoulder-deep in his locker by the time conversation starts proper. There's the sound of shuffling and scuffling from inside the metal box, before the tinny echo of the Sarge's voice bounces into the berthings proper. "You'll all have to speak up. I'm not wearing pants." That's one way to not weigh in the the topic, certainly.
Kellin nods to Dell then laughs at Barney "And what does having no pants have to do with hearing anythign Sarge?"
"It means if you look we're stayin the hell away from you." Damon replies from his bunk as he's taking off his boots. Sighing a small cloud of cigarette smoke, he glances around the room, speaking in Dell's direction. "So…Dell…been a while. You come up with the rest of the Resistance just a little while ago?"
Triptolemus, Dell, Private sits on his bed and he begins shining his boots. He starts with the left boot working from the front to the back, he hasn't really shined boots before but physical labor comes easy to him and his craftsman ship is admirable. He shines the boot idly as he listens to everyone speak and he looks over at Kellin and he speaks with a surly manner as he says, "Because you don't want to see another dude's junk so you stop talkin to him." He then looks at Damon and nods his head it is an appreciative look and he says, "Yeah, lost my dog in signing up but I can't plant any crops on Scorpia and I'm a good shot. Thought I'd try out to be a sniper."
There's a little more rummaging before Barney fully escapes the locker, holding a set of neatly folded off-duties as well as a small tin box, a little larger than his hand. Giving a little shakeout of his shoulders, the Sarge shuts the small door with an elbow before heading for his bunk, clambering in with one or two grunts that preceed the arduous task of getting changed. Not to mention dealing with whatever is in that tin.
"Reads to me like leave me alone. I don't bother people that aren't wearing pants." Damon replies, tilting his head to the side to emphasize his point as he sets his boots in his duty locker. "Then again I don't talk to much of anyone, never have." Damon adds, standing to dress for sleep. Pulling off his tanktops, he folds them and sets them inside. "Scorpia's frakked, I say leave it as it is."
Dell continues working on the left boot and he shrugs off all of the talk about pants as he works. He looks over at Damon and he says, "Scorpia is frakked which is why we need to hit back." He stops brushing his boot as he looks up at Damon, "How many of those metal bastards do you think are out there anyway?"
Barney eventually emerges from his bunk. Ok, so it wasn't really that long, but the change is almost miraculous. Hell, he looks partially awake, for one. Secondly, he's in nice, clean offduties, And third… No, that was it. The 'being awake' thing is a huge change all on it's own, though. Hopping down, there's the obvious bulge of that tin in a side pocket, and it's tapped once with a hand once his feet are on the floor as a double-check. "Couple of million, probably." Deadpan, all said. As an afterthought, his arm reaches in to his bunk, grabbing the dirty and stained outfit from the small stint planetside. "I'll be in the laundry. S2 stops by, tell her I said 'OH GODS IT'S IN MY SHOOOOOOES.'" … "That exact tone."
"More than us." Damon replies, pulling on a pair of sweatpants to sleep in. Barefooted, he moves to grab an ashtray from the center table, bringing it back to his bunk. Smirking softly at Barbabas' typical manner, he nods his head. "Will do, Sarge." Damon says to the man as he seats himself again, watching Dell. "Nice and full of hate, huh?"
Triptolemus looks at the Seargent and he looks confused, "Sure thing, Sarge." He looks over at Damon and he says, "We are all full of hate here. Mine is just on the surface." He motions with the shoe in his hand over to the notebook and he begins to speak in blunt tones, "I'm keeping a kill count for everyone I take out. A life for a life since they killed my family and a lot of other peoples families too."
"Just remember that machines don't scream when you kill them. It won't be satisfying." Damon replies, true advice from the murderer to the avenger. Turning so that his back is against the wall of his bunk, he watches Dell as they talk. "By the way. Thanks for saying what you did. I decided to come honest and face the judge."
Barney gives a little glance towards Damon, then a shrug as he heads to the hatch. "Shit. Another day alive is another day to watch Ajtai make an ass out of himself infront of a commanding officer. That's plenty enough for me." Barney's taking it one step at a time. This step? Laundry. Out of the hatch he goes!
As shoes are shined Dell stops and he looks up at Damon, "Looks like honesty worked out well for you since it looks like brass believed you." Brushing continues as Dell stops and picks up the right boot and begins working on it with the same loving care however his words are not very loving as he says gruffly, "Might not be satisfying but it is one step closer to peace." He looks over at the hatch and then he says, "I'm new to this marine crap but what the hell happened tonight with the…" He lets his mind wander as he looks for the word, "Rear Admiral and all besides a dick waving contest?"
"It's simple. I told them who I was and that the cop was dead when I took his clothes. No one would harbor a convict." Damon admits, shrugging a shoulder in a simple gesture as he enjoys his cigarette. His bunk is bare and lifeless, a testament to the number of personal items he actually owns. "It's a rear admiral, which means we'll be taking orders from her, even if they are strangers. It's uncomfortable."
Dell's nostrills flare for a moment but that is as much displeasure as he shows, his words say a little more, "I'm getting used to one set of bosses and now I get another set of ones?" He keeps working on the right boot. "Well, that explains a lot." He says with the simplicy of someone who has worked the land. He looks back at Damon, "Well, glad to have you hear with us. You kept a lot of people safe down there and now you are doing the same up here."
"That's one of the reasons I'm not airlocked. If I was a cold, ruthless murderer there were more than enough pretty women down there and I didn't mistreat a one." Damon replies, stretching his arms out in front of him. "Likely we're not getting a new boss. The CO's likely to be getting a new boss, which means shit will roll downhill, but from the same source."
"I think the most complimentary thing I ever heard down there was that I was a thug, but I was their thug." Damon snorts a small cloud of smoke. "I just do my thing, and I don't change." He adds, sidestepping the idea that he was missed or was even enjoyed with his thug-like avoidance of compliments. "Just remember not to turn into one of those suicidal idiots, okay Dell?"
Dell grunts, "This is a war and I'm all about keeping my head in this." While he is at his locker he gets out a bottle of water and he turns to look at Damon and he grunts, "But if you think I am heading that way, stop me." The bottle of water is opened and a sip is taken from the bottle as he walks over to his bunk again and he says, "We did good today."
"If I ever do, you listen. I've never been a marine but I had a crew on Scorpia. I know the territory." Damon replies, nodding his head in agreement that they did well today. "At least for us. That Battlestar's marines took a few good hits, lost a few. Be interesting to see what their numbers are like and if any of us are getting reassigned."
Triptolemus takes another sip of water and he says in honest tones, "If you do, I will listen." He moves his hand as it moves toward his heart as he looks like he is about to place it there but instead he reaches into his top pocket and he pulls out a pack of gum, "Want some?" He asks as he looks at the wall like he could see the Battlestar out there, "Think the bunks are bigger?"
"Nah." Damon replies, waving his hand towards the pack of gum. "Maybe. I'm not likely to transfer. If the Kharon's willing to house a convicted murderer they're gonna keep me near the S2. She knew me on Scorpia. Our problem not theirs. Looks like there's more room, though, might be more people." Damon smirks, opening his sheets as he's preparing to crash. "I don't get leave, Dell."
The gum wrapper is opened and gum is taken out and placed in Triptolemus puts the other piece away and he grunts acceptingly at what Damon has to say and as he sees the sheets being pulled he says,, "Sleep tight."
"Yeah, back at you." Damon replies. Extinguishing his cigarette, he rolls onto his shoulder and adjusts his pillow before turning off his overhead light. Closing the curtains, he disappears behind them.
