Oh
Oh
Summary: Jupes hits the Mess late night, runs into Ajax, woops he's a priest. Castor shows up and there's a difference of opinion.
Date: PDH 033 (22 May 2009)
Related Logs: Bait & Insomnia.
Players:
Jupiter..Ajax..Castor..

CEC Kharon - Deck 2 - Mess Hall
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #33
OOC Time: Fri May 22 01:44:42 2009


Next to Hangar Bay One, this is probably the largest room on the ship in terms of available square footage. Its expanse has to feed the entire crew of the Kharon three times a day and still be able to offer snacks to those who need something between meals. The kitchen is almost constantly in operation to produce the next meal while huge coffee urns operate near the end of the room, fresh mugs ready to fulfill the needs of the masses.

The typically gray walls of the ship are broken up in here with a neutral shade of gull white that might be an attempt to shift atmosphere of the ship. Long tables span rows that go back through the room with a few circular tables at the rear which offer a more private setting. The serving counter is near the Fore end of the room, the long counter passing by numerous serving platters.


Its late, and still the ship never seems to frakking sleep. Well, that is how it is exactly for the Padre. After having met with a rather curious Raptor Captain he fids himself here, still roused from sleep, and now imbibing in coffee. Hell it loses its taste after the first two cups- but knowing himself, and knowing the coffee he'll be ready to hit his bunk soon enough.

One hand moves, rising up to adjust his eyepatch again right before he is going back to his coffee. For Ajax, the night is slowly, crawling, to a halt.

Jupiter makes her way through the Mess line. It's not what you might call busy at this hour. She skips the foodstuff, and just snags some juice and 2 cups of water. She carries the tray out and around from the service line, and heads out through the empty tables. The viper jock's hair is worn up in a curly tail, hair still just a bit damp from a recent shower.

The man before you appears to be about 6'4" with short cropped brown hair- a military cut that has been allowed to grou out and appear slightly shaggy. About his face a full beard is worn, of the same curly brown hair that covers his head. His right eye is a Solid chocolate brown, where as the left is covered in a thick black leather patch. He seems solidly built, with little fat hanging around his sotmach area. He has two tattoos. The Marine Crest done in a dull green ink on the right arm, while the left has blue waves inked from shoulder to elbow, the trident rising triumphant out of the waves.

The Padre is currently wearing the standard off-duty uniform. The top portion of this 'uniform' is as simple as it is recognizable: Off-Duty. A single, form-fitting light grey sleeveless shirt is worn close to the body while another tanktop of similar fit is worn over it, the darker green almost a shade of black in its color. The pants are those of the regular duty pants, though a dark blue and are worn bloused into a set of black combat boots. Along the waist, a single belt with a plastic clip is worn. There is no rank to be seen anywhere on this set of clothing. About his neck, a beaded prayer chain dangles down between his dogtags where the metla head of Poseidon can be seen dangling.

Dark brown hair shot through with gold hilights is left to tumble to her collar in a waved, shining mass scented faintly of gardenia. Dark liner and warm brown shadow accent blue eyes, making them seem slightly larger than they are. Her lips, lighly touched with a golden hued gloss, are full with slightly downturned corners that give the illusion of a faint frown when she isn't smiling or talking. Her skin is on the fair side of the spectrum. She stands at around 5'6". Jupiter is currently wearing the standard off-duty uniform. The top portion of this 'uniform' is as simple as it is recognizable: Off-Duty. A single, form-fitting light grey sleeveless shirt is worn close to the body while another tanktop of similar fit is worn over it, the darker green almost a shade of black in its color. The pants are those of the regular duty greens and are worn bloused into a set of black combat boots. Along the waist, a single belt with a plastic clip is worn. There is no rank to be seen anywhere on this set of clothing.

Well it seems you have the perfect run of the mess hall. Only a few tables have people currently sitting at them. One holds three Marines, a few Weapons guys sit towards the portside bulkhead, and then the Chaplain sits by himself in the middle of the room. Eye, looks up catching movement out of the periphial, catching the viper pilot, and her slightly up and damp hair. Ajax offers a slight nod, before he is going back to the nectar of life- or rather coffee.

The last place Jupiter is going to sit tonight, for the love of all that's holy, is the marine table. That would be like inviting a brawl. Gun boys, jarheads, or the lone man. Lone man wins. Jupes slides her tray onto the table instead of passing, and sits across and one down from Ajax. He looks tired, so maybe she feels like the conversation will be minimal. Or maybe she's just loathe to sit alone. "Coffee in the Rec is better."

"Hm?" said for a moment. A blink and he is looking across from him and then over to your own table. A slight double take, before Ajax finally chuckles and nods. "That is true." said softly, before another healthy sip of coffee is taken. "But, the coffee in the Rec is also stronger, and I plan on sleeping sometime tonight." a motion of his hand to the Book close by "Early Services tomorrow."

Jupiter looks across at the man for a long moment, and then her eyes stray to the book. The book… oh frak. Scripture. Her eyes come up again. There's a pause there. She picks up a cup of water, and drains half of it. "Sleep is over rated. I never understood dragging out of bed early to pray."

Ajax would be the Chaplain. Of course though if you have not been to Chapel, you've likely missed the one eye'd priest, but enough people know of him to have muttered or something most likely. "Says the crewmember who doesn't have to get up early." of course, forget that he has no clue what you do for a living. You keep worse hours than he does. "And I have never understood why people go parachuting, but that doesn't mean it bothers me that people do it." a sniff "Still its my duty."

Jupter doesn't attend services, so that would be a big negatory on recognizing Ajax as the chaplain. "I didn't say it bothers me. You can chew your toenails at oh-five-hundred if you want, doesn't mean I'll understand it." Nevermind she just equated communing with the Gods to gnawing on toejam. Just gloss over that part. She finishes one of the waters, and sets the cup down on the tray with a little click, upside down. "Dut—ohh. You're. Oh."

Castor has arrived.

Ahh that would explain everything. Currently, Ajax is sitting across and one down from Jupiter, in the midst of the Mess Hall. One has water and juice- the other coffee. "You'll be surprised…" says, the Padre. "..That a lot of folks seem to place we don't understand with we don't like." A shrug there, "So, sorry for jumping the gun on you there."

Ajax nods, that crooked grin of his coming up when it seems all the wheels fall into place. "Yeah." And so he is reaching a hand across. "Brother Ajax" Or Father-well don't get him started on titles. " Most usually call me Padre- a lot easier than fussin' with rank or what exactly to call me."

Jupiter sits at a table with Ajax, the two are across and diagonal each other. So not sitting 'together' so much as sharing a table. The Mess is largely deserted aside from a few marines at one table, and some gunnery folk at another. The pilot and priest are roughly positioned in the middle of the Mess. "Jupiter." Neither is wearing rank, so she doesn't mention it. "Pilot. Not a stranger to assumptions."

Castor takes a moment to step into the mess. It is late night and for whatever reason he was pulled off CAP to double check some papers. He is wide awake and he has a slightly chipper look on his face as he can smell the hot military issue food, emphasis on the hot. He takes a moment to sign for his meal before he recieves his meal. Ah the joy of vampire shift, everyone else sleeps and you live on a completely different schedule. He accepts his meal and begins looking for a place to sit, spotting Jupiter and Ajax he moves over to join the pair, two pilots he doesn't know at all and he probably needs to. "Mind if I join you?" He asks in a slight Aquarian accent.

"Pleasure" replied back, with the handshake. Grips' good. Not too firm and not weak, which is a small pet peeve of his own. Another sip of coffee, before he turning his head for a second, Castor's voice catching his attention, and so the one eye looks to the lad before nodding. The Book pulled back so as to make room for where ever the tray would go. "Go on." a grin added

Ajax then is looking back over towards Jupiter "Raptor, or Viper pilot?"

Jupiter takes a sip of her juice, the cup held lightly between her thumb and index finger. She glances over it, and regards the hand for a moment before taking it with her free hand. The shake is brief, clasp of her hand firm. A slight face is pulled at the mention of raptors. "Viper jocks are the only jocks." She nods to Castor.

Castor takes a seat and as he does so he lets out a soft to place emphasis on Jupiter's words, "ooh-rah!" He then takes a moment to look at the food that was given to him. He takes a moment study over his food, ah, which to choose first, the vegetables, the noodles, or the mystery meat that has been fried and cut into chunks. He settles on the noodles in a bowl.

Ajax chuckles at the face given, "I'll take your word. Never did that myself." a point then to the eye, or rather the missing eye hidden back behind the thick black leather patch strapped over his left eye "I was a Marine before I got my calling. And you can see how I ended up with that, eh?" a glance is given over to Castor "I love it when you flyboys always tried with the ooh-rah's. It makes you all sound so damned tough." a glance back to Jupiter. "So besides not understanding praying in the morning, what else can I shed light on?"

Jupiter tips back in her chair, juice in hand. "You're an ex-marined and a priest?" She shakes her head as if lamenting something. She nurses her chilled beverage for a moment, eyes still on the one eyed man across the table. "That's a cryin' shame." She grins a bit behind her cup, then finishes the juice. The cup's turned upside down as it's set on the tray, ala shot glasses on a bar (sadly without the booze… or the bar). She picks up the water.

Castor begins listening to Ajax speak and realizes he is one of those religious types. He winces slightly as prayers and callings are mentioned though he tries to hide it by lowering his head as he uses his chopsticks to eat his noodles. However, he looks up from his noodles to listen to the ex-marine priests response. He does throw in with a certain amount of admiration, "Well, we can't all be marines."

"And what should I be?" asked back towards Jupiter. Ahh perhaps a bit of challenge there in Ajax's voice, possibly because he is curious to see what lovely response the viper jockies can come up with. Brow is raised, and the Padre waits just a little before he is looking towards Castor "You can still strive to perfection, my son." He doesn't entirely mean it like that- more like fun at the ego's expense.

Jupiter cuts a glance at Castor at the tone of voice her fellow pilot uses when intoning the Corps. There's something in that look that suggests she's re-evaluating her opinion of the pilot even now. Jupes shakes her head, reaches up to pull her hair out of the ponytail, and ruffles a hand through the slightly damp curls as they fall across her shoulders. "A little higher up on the IQ food chain. It's not like the Corps has a minimum requirement, but damn." She could probably say that a little more quietly, considering their proximity to a table of marines, but… not likely to happen. "You like to take orders, Padre?"

Ajax chuckles there, as the water it seems now is thick. And so he is reaching to snag is coffee, the drink drained down quick and easy before he is reaching for the Book. Though-eye doesn't miss the bit with the hand and the hair and so he raises a brow for a moment, before chuckling. "Depends on the orders, and who is giving them Jupiter." A flash of a grin- wait what did he, and before he can explain exactly what he meant he raises his free hand a sign made toward the table "I'm off, May the gods keep you both flying." A last glance to Jupiter "Pleasure meeting you." A nod to Castor and he is heading off to head back to his bunk.

Castor begins eating some vegetables, it is a known fact that Castor has never been to any services or has never spoken to a priest on this ship looking for any manner of comfort. He does say, "The padre takes his orders from the Lords." The way he says it isn't mean, but it isn't kind.

Jupiter takes a sip of her water, then glances over at Castor as he intones the last. "Blow it out your ass." Gosh, she's charming. She lifts her cup to Ajax. "I'll keep that in mind. Have a good one." She shakes her head at Castor then, her eyes returning to the other pilot at the table.

Castor takes a moment to watch Ajax, he then takes a moment to look over at Jupiter, "I don't much cater to the Lords." He then adds, "I don't much like priests they make everyone feel guilty and judged." He takes a moment to work on some of the mystery meat.

"If it's that easy to make you feel guilty, you should get to going more racy stuff." Jupes finishes off her second water, and sets the cup on the tray. "Besides, what the hell else is a man with one eye gonna do besides push paperwork and pray?" She rises, taking her empties with her, headed over to drop them off with the dishes. "For a preacher, that man didn't seem so bad. That's saying something."

Castor nods his head, "Well, he was a Marine so I'll respect that." He takes a moment to rubs his chin, "So, I take it then your looking for a drink?" He says indicating the formerly upturned water cups. "If we ever drop to the right condition level I might have a few shots for you."

Jupiter smiles at the offer of booze during sunnier sailing. "I might take you up on that." She stows her tray and turns back toward the table. "I'm headed for the rack. Enjoy your…" She glances at the tray. The sentence never really gets finished. She's not sure what that is. "Night."

Castor offers, "Meal. Sleep tight eltee."

Jupiter nods, tosses off a loose mock salute, and heads for the exit.

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