Summary: Eddie and Samantha both receive visitors and are released from sickbay following the events of the latest Scorpia mission, then return to berthings.
Date: PHD156
Related Logs: Scorpia scouting logs


Eddie sips from her glass of water, still keeping one arm craddled against the bandages that bulge beneath her gown. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Case, unless you were the one that cracked me upside the head." Eddie says simply, a fact is a fact.

Samantha laughs faintly. "Nope. Not that time, at least." She admits with a wiry bit of a smile, still not quite able to get a nurse's attention. She looks down, considering her bandaged foot and the possibility of limping on it anyway. It can't be -that- bad, right? "I'm up for a jail break if you are?"

Eddie rests the cup on her chest and it now rises and falls with her steady breathing. "I sure as frak hope you wouldn't put me in the hospital over some man, for the love of gods." Eddie's eyes go to the door, looking sorely tempted at that offer to make a run for it. "Wouldn't do any good. Without the proper paperwork, Marek would just martch us right back here strung up by our ears."

Samantha smirks deeply, sighing, just sitting on the edge of her bed now, legs dangling uselessly down over the edge. She really isn't looking forward to that first step, her ankle and foot throbbing distantly already with every beat of her heart. "Don't worry… I ain't gonna touch you over a man again. He's all yours, Mooner… You both deserve it. Just… don't frak it up… not like I did. He's too good for that."

"Hullo, ladies," comes a new voice from the side. Thorn has entered the recovery ward, making his way over to where Sam and Eddie are laying and talking. The tall ECO is just in time to catch the tail end of the women's conversation, but doesn't comment. A quiet "How's tricks?" is his only greeting, as he pulls up a chair in between the feet of the two beds and takes out a pack of cigarettes. "Rather hard t' find flowers on this bucket, but I figured th' two of you might appreciate these just as much." Thorn definitely sounds cheerier than he looks. "It's a plant, still, at any rate."

Eddie shakes her head slightly, "I learn from my mistakes, Case. And I rarely repeat them." Unlike. *cough* Sam. No, it seems Eddie has no intention of travelling down the road paved of Martin again. She's on the straight and narrow. Her eyes lift to Komnenos as he enters. "Tricks are slow, my pimp is starting to get concerned about his overhead. Gimme." Cigarettes.

Samantha turns her head, an earnest, warm, wide smile crossing her lips the moment she sees Thorn coming in the door. Well, that's a strange bit of happiness coming off of Case, but he seems good at inspiring it. "Hey, handsome. Awe…you always know the most thoughtful gifts." She reaches her hand over, tugging one free before passing the pack in Eddie's direction, but cigarettes are something she's NOT a lady about. Not that she's a lady about anything else. "Ain't he just the sweetest, Mooner?"

Thorn snorts, his lips curling in a tiny smile as the pack gets quickly snatched from his hand. "Good t' see you two feeling better," he remarks mildly, eyeing the pair back and forth with a raised brow. That smile is perfectly genuine, though, and his gaze rests on Samantha for a moment, obvious relief on his face.

Eddie leans to retrieve it, which isn't the best idea in the world, but she'll do stupid things for nicotine fixes. She's not attached to an oxygen tank, so why the hell not. "Better is a relevant term. I have a hole in my stomach you could drive a Raptor through." She props the cigarette between her lips and puts a hand to her chest. Where her lighter /usually/ is. Damn. "Sweetest." Eddie intones flatly. "Got a light?"

Samantha isn't looking -wonderful-, but she's sitting up straight, legs hanging down over the bed, and her only bandages are a rather large one across the left half of her forehead, obsurcing a bunch of her hair, probably some of it shorn, and then the wrapping around her ankle. She's in one of those horrid gowns that, if she does get up, is gonna give Thorn a nice little show. She looks pale, strangely sleepless, but still smiling. She slips her cigarette between her lips and leans over to let Thorn light it, if he'll be a gentleman. She pauses, though, and bows her head. "Get the lady's first. I can move better than her." She lingers back, letting him light Mooner's cigarette first, if he will. "And it's better than dead. For both of us. Frak they were…mean… last night. Though… I heard you were brilliant out there, Mooner…holding off to the last second. Congrats. People… people are speakin' damn well of the newest JiG…"

And Thorn does a pretty good job at times of playing the gentleman; he reaches out, flicking his silver lighter to give first Eddie a light, then, Samantha, then himself. Yeah, the medical staff probably dreads Thorn's visits to the recovery ward by now. "Better'n bleeding out on th' frakkin' hangar deck," he replies to Mooner. There's a nod to Samantha. "She's right, though," Thorn continues to address the younger Viper pilot. "You were a hellion out there, Mooner." He smiles quickly over at Sam. "Y' both did good out there."

Eddie leans over the flame, puffing life to her cigarette. "Only got one splash with Rebound. It could have been a lot better. I was only following orders." Mooner says in a sudden bout of modesty. "That, and. Ya know. I was one of the only ones not shot to shit enough to be able to continue."

Samantha waves her hand off.. "Nah, you still did damn good. I didn't get a single splash and might as well not have been out there so… it was good, Mooner. Be proud. Yer a damn fine pilot." And with that simple bit of encouragement, Sam sighs and sinks back onto her bed again, taking another deep drag of her cigarette, probably not supposed to be smoking, but her lungs aren't hurt! So she smokes. "Raptors did frakking well out there too, Thorn. If we weren't out numbered, we woulda taken the day."

Pike makes her way into Recovery, hands stuffed as customarily always in the pockets of her lab coat. "'Evening, everyone, I presume everyone's healing up nicely?" She looks around at all three of them, but Eddie's the one getting most of the attention from the CMO.

"I think I can safely say that kills aren't everything, Mooner." Thorn gives Eddie a smirk. "Y' splashed one, y' saved our arses, and y' came home alive. Sounds like a good enough day t' me." He cranes his neck as Pike announces her presence, not bothering to hide the cigarette. Hey, the other two are smoking, too! "Doctor." There's a nod and a smile for Samantha. "We did all right."

Eddie lays back against the pillow, exhaling a lungful of smoke that would be difficult to hide from the CMO. At least Eddie lofts the cigarete above her head so she won't accidently burn Pike should she go a-poking at her midsection. "Yeah, well, thanks…" Eddie finally conceeds, the grumble directed more inwardly. "Hey Doc. Came to spring us?"

Samantha is smoking herself, and enjoying it. Cigarettes are FAR too precious to go to waste, so she doesn't hide or put it out. After all, no one in the room is on oxygen, so they should be fine! She smiles over to the doctor, "Hey, Doc… I'd love my walking papers. And maybe a crutch… but just to hit people with, yanno." She jests, mostly. She then looks over to Thorn and grins…"Or maybe I can just use you."

Pike steps over to examine Eddie's abdominal wound as she answers Samantha, "You and Lt. Komnenos' charts both check out… you're free to return to duty with no restrictions." She then looks up to Eddie, "Wish I could say entirely the name for you, Lt. Morales."

Eddie frowns. No, she doesn't just frown, she downright scowls. "I haven't even been on the gods damned duty roster for a frakking week." The complaint is not to Pike, but said in general. Eddie quickly bites back her words, continuing more carefully. "Sorry, sir. But you understand my frustration. What's the verdict?"

Samantha seems a hint surprised as she's said she could be going. "Hell yeah, thank you, sir." And she slips down off of the bed, definitely still limping just a bit, but she's moving at least. She gives one more concerned look towards Eddie before gazing up to Thorn. "Lemme change, handsome…then we can go off and enjoy no restrictions, hm?" She states with a little wink. "Eddie…you want us to bring ya anything back?"

Pike rises back to a standing position over Eddie. "Light duty for one week. You're wound's closing up nicely, I just want to see it more closely closed before I let you go back on the line. And yes, I completely understand your frustration, Lieutenant."

Eddie sighs before she turns her head and takes another drag of her cigarette. She's silent for a moment as Pike delivers the news that she'll be off the line for at least another week. "Well. Means I get out of PT for another week." She says glibly. "'m I free to go now, or do I gotta hole up here, longer?"

Thorn nods to Samantha, leaning back in his chair as he waits for the woman to go change before heading out. There's a smirk over at Eddie as he waits. "Way t' look for the positives, Mooner," he interjects sardonically. Hey, no PT is something, at least, right?

Samantha limps around behind a curtain, grabbing her off duty sweats that someone brought over the night. She smiles thankfully and changes with a fair amount of speed. Finally, she's back out, really careful to not put much weight on her left foot, but she's moving. She folds the gown up and sets it down ont he bed. "Laundry for ya, doc. Good luck in gettin out of here, Mooner… " She heads to lean against Thorn, if he'll take her weight.

Pike smiles to Eddie. "Yes, you're discharged, Lieuentant… I want you back in here this time next week to examine your injury." Sam's comment elicits a slight giggle.

Thorn accepts Samantha's weight on his shoulder, slipping an arm around the woman's waist as they move slowly towards the aisle. "Thanks for takin' good care of her, Major," he says to Pike with a smile before turning to Mooner. "Nice going out there, Eddie," he says more quietly. "Don't waste too much time sleeping it off, y' hear? Get back soon." With another smile, he's back to helping the recovering Samantha limp her way out.

A faint grin touches Eddie's features. "You bet, doc. Thanks." Eddie reaches over, shutting off the drip on her IV and without further ado, she merely yanks the shunt out of the back of her hand. Who needs a nurse? "I'm right behind ya'." She tells Kom. And speaking of 'behinds'? Eddie's walking out of here, still dressed in that crappy gown. Nevermind if her ass is hanging out in the wind because of it.

Samantha leans against Thorn, not too heavily, but he serves as a good crutch when she's trying to keep weight off her foot. She blinks behind them, laughing as she realizes Eddie is following them out. "Those gowns give a draft, Eddie, do be careful. You want some help back to the bunks?" she calls behind her gently, but is happy to linger with Thorn…"Then you and I, handsome, are gonna go relax somewhere."

Pike frowns a bit as Eddie extricates herself from her IV, but holds her tongue and REALLY tries not to stare as the pilot's bare backside as she rises from her bunk. "You, um… you need someplace to put your clothes back on, Lieutenant?"

There's an amused snort from Thorn as he looks back and realizes that Eddie is just a few steps behind them, hospital gown and all. Yeah, he knows what the view from the other side must be. He's had to wear a couple of those things in his time, after all. He turns his head back to the front, giving Samantha a very light squeeze of the waist as they walk.

Eddie wraps her arms around her midsection, just to be sure her innards are going to stay, well, in. "Nope. Didn't bring any clothes down. I'll return your gown tomorrow." Mooner didn't earn her callsign by being afraid to bare that very asset she's now presenting Pike as she shuffles for the door in her hospital gown. FREEDOM. "I got this. You two go cuddlebug up, or whatever it is you're going to do."

As Eddie's on her way out, Martin's on his way in. Stopping at the door, he glances over Eddie in the direction of the rest of the beds, offering them all a wave before he looks down at Mooner. "Hey you…" He says, lowering his brows. "Don't tell me you were gonna get out of here before I could get a chance to see you. Am I too late?"

Yes. Eddie is indeed displaying a whole rear end of freedom, it seems! Sam continues limping out gently, leaning against Thorn as she goes, but she chuckles softly at Eddie's gumption. "Careful not to go by Marine country. They might enjoy it a bit too much." Apparently, even if Martin was coming to visit, this is the mass exodus from sickbay. Sam dressed in off duty sweats and limping, leaning against Thorn, and Eddie in a gown, her ass hanging out, working on holding her buts in as she walks.

Pike stifles the urge to blush a bit, then says to Martin as he arrives, "I've just released her, Lieutenant."

"Hey, Dash." Thorn greets the other pilot tersely, offering a wave with his free hand as he continues to guide a limping Samantha slowly towards the exit. He takes another pull from the cigarette as he walks, exhaling acrid grey smoke through his nose.

Eddie manages a smile for Martin, but really, she's trying to concentrate on not toppling over and ruining her chances of getting out of here. Pain is clear on her features as she's walking not twenty four hours after getting a gut shot. "Nah, Sailor. You're just in time. You can walk with me back to berthings, make sure I don't pass out or puke on any of the enlisted. Here. Hold this." And she's thrusting a lit cigarette to Martin, but not asking for any help otherwise. "Thanks again, Doc."

"H'hey guys!" Martin waves, checking on Samantha's status. Seeing Thorn with her, he nods appropriately to him and takes the lit cigarette from Eddie. Turning to walk her to the berthings, he maintains that hen-like hovering to make sure that she doesn't fall over.

Samantha gives Martin a brief wave, "See ya, Dash…" But he's with Eddie, and that's good, so she lets the two go on while she disappears with Thorn herself, certainly not in perfect condition, btu she doesn't look bad over all. She's certainly been worse!


The trip took some time up from Sickbay, Eddie forced to shuffle and stop and pause and lean at intervals against the bulkhead. Just realeased from sickbay, Eddie's still donning the hospital gown she was given, not taking the time even to change and she removed the IV shunt herself to boot. So now as she walks in the gown, her callsign namesake is hanging out in the wind, having mooned half a dozen personnel members on the way up here. To be fair, she /told/ Sam and Kom this is where she was heading. No privacy. Martin walks with her, if only to make sure she doesn't faceplant on the trip.

Of course, Sam and Kom got here a -bit- quicker, Sam ducking her head in, and it looks lonely for the moment, so she grins, tugging Thorn in for a quick, long, warm kiss before releasing him and limping up towards her bunk. Top bunk. Her foot isn't going to like getting up there. "Well, frak…care to give me a boost, darling?" And then they're no longer alone. She looks back to Eddie and half smiles…"Lucky we weren't racin'."

Closing the hatch behind them, Martin does his best to not crack a joke that'll get him killed. Cigarette in hand, he steps ahead of Eddie to clear the chairs out of her way so that there's a clear path to her bed. Opening her curtain, he looks inside and starts to clear off some room for her on her bunk. "You're lucky we weren't for sure." Martin says with a smile, waiting to help Eddie into her bunk. "So how how long are you out for, Eddie? What was it, shrapnel?"

Of course, some people are just lucky. And were already here. The only immediate heralding of Willem's presence is the sound of soft snoring emitting from his rack, along with the occasional bit of stirring.

Thorn grins as Samantha suddenly gets handsy, returning the kiss with a noticeable fervor. His hands roam a little as well, running up and down her sweats-clad form as they embrace. The pair moves over towards her bunk, and Thorn finally breaks contact to help the woman up to her bunk. That's when Eddie and Martin appear. Komnenos doesn't exactly drop it like it's hot, but he's suddenly a lot more restrained in the presence of others.

Eddie seems appreciative of the little gesture's Martin's making to ensure she makes it to her bunk easily, and when she lays down in there, the won't be any clothes or books poking her in the back. Very carefully, she eases down onto the edge of the bed, as if afraid to move too quickly and blow a stitch. "I won't make a bet I don't have at least /some/ chance of winning, Case." Oof. "They dug five chunks of my canopy outta my gut. But it was shallow. Shouldn't be out more then a week." Hmm. Sitting. Check. Now getting her feet up there with her. Easy goes it. If she saw the little impromptu make out session, or the tail end thereof, there's no blush on her features.

Never a lonely moment on this ship. Sam takes a steadying breath, calming her brief bit of fire for the company now. She knew they were coming, why didn't she go somewhere else? But where else is always the question. "Thanks, handsome." She murmurs to Thorn, leaning against him as he helps prop her up to climb into her bunk even with a bad foot. The handsome knights and their wounded damsals seems the theme of the night. "…We all got lucky. Coulda gone way worse…it…It's good. Maybe…somethin's watchin' fer us."

Roubani is quiet as he drifts into berthings and towards the back row of bunks. In his blues, the jacket's off and draped over his shoulder along with a towel, his hair still a little bit damp. His wandering stops at the bunk above Martin's, where he drags the towel once more through his hand before reaching up to fold it on the upper rung. The sound of voices makes him briefly stand on tiptoe, peering through the rail gaps at the foot of the bed. Ninja Roubani is Ninja.

Martin's back is turned to Thorn and Sam, but he doesn't seem one bit upset at seeing the two of them together. Being a little mother-hen with Eddie, he checks her over and makes sure that she's comfortable. "Like hell you two weren't coming back, not on my frakkin' watch." Martin says, casting a look over his shoulder before turning back to Eddie. "You want anything? Water? Video Game system? Water torture?"

Eddie is sitting on the edge of her bunk, still in the hospital gown she was released in which means, yup, she walked all the way up here with her ass hanging out of it. She wasn't going to wait it out for someone to bring her a change of clothes. Mooner looks to her feet for a long moment, willing them to lift high enough that she can swing them in. "Nah, I'm alright. I just need to down a bottle of aspirin, a few shots of booze, and pretend I'm laying on a beach back home. Help me get my feet up, wouldya champ? It's hard to do without using my stomach muscles." Did she see Roubani come in? No. Damn Ninja.

"Mmf. Don't want to go to school today." The tosing and turning in Willem's rack is impressive and piqued, behind the curtain even if lasts for only a minute or two. It's broken up by these little nonsensical mutterings. Very obviously mid—dream. "Got no pants. Stop laughing, Chloe." The soft snoring starts to break up. "Huh Mmmnf. Sister Jacquenetta, what are you doing here?" The snoring stops right now, replaced entirely by thrashing. "UGGHHH. FRAK!" The sound of some real stirring now as his throat clears and he shifts dramatically in his bunk.

Roubani is still peering. If he had cat ears they'd be laying flat against his head. Spycat. His eyes narrow through the gap as Willem starts mumbling weirdly in the corner, one brow going arching up sharply, then he looks back towards Eddie and Martin. Then Willem. His hand snakes up to his shelf, grabbing one of his sandals, and his arm arcs back above his head. Oh yeah, revenge. Fwoosh, it flies across the room towards Willem's bunk. Hitting curtain, of course. Let's see if he notices.

Unfortunately for Ninja Roubani, his bed is right across from Samantha's bunk, which Thorn is standing in front of. Not really any way to sneak around that. The newly reinstated Viper pilot gets a nod. "Poet." He hears the end of Willem's sleepy outburst, directing an odd look over towards the other side of the room before looking back to the others. Roubani gets a snicker as the younger man chucks a sandal. Troll that, Wil.

Looking back at Wil's bunk with a look of pure horror, Martin manages a blink before he takes one of the pillows from his bunk and heads back to Eddie's. Lifting her feet, he slides the pillow beneath them and sets them down softly. "Champ? Gods help me Eddie if you start calling me sport, you're never borrowing my music player again." Martin replies, reaching to her arm to squeeze it softly. "I'm glad you're back, Eddie." He adds, giving her a look of probably much more concern than he should. Clearing his throat, he looks back at Wil again. "…I think I just figured out why I hear so much about a Chloe in my dreams."

Samantha is finally up in her own bunk, but then Willem is speaking and she just -stares-. She chokes on a bit of a laugh, shaking her head, grinning warmly…"Frak…and I thought -my- childhood was frakked up. Wake up, little Will. No nuns here. But I'm certain Persy'll dress like one and slap ya with a ruler if you ask -real- nice…" She teases the man, even as the sandle goes flying. She then looks over towards Poet, smiling softer. "Welcome home, Poet… good to see yer playin' nice first day back." She dead pans.

"Hmm?" Roubani's immediately twirling a curly bit of hair as he turns attention to Thorn. No, he didn't just throw a shoe. Nah. "Oh, Thorn. Good to see you." Old chap, pip pip. "Passi. It's actually my fourth…I'm just very quiet, thankfully for Black."

Was that just footwear that went sailing across the room? Eddie looks past Martin for a moment, trying to figure that one out, and when she finally looks back…WHOA… she's moving. He settles her feet into her bunk, and she stretches out on her back. Ah. Better. The pain smoothes out from Eddie's features, now that she's once more horizontal. "Thanks babe." She says quietly, holding his gaze for a moment as he dances very close to being mushy. Tsk tsk tsk. That's not allowed! "Goodnight guys." She calls out to the room at whole, from sleepy Wil to Ninja Roubani, to the two squirrelling in Sam's bunk. And finally to Martin, a slight smile afforded for his tenderness.

"That's what I th..Huh, wha? AUGH FRAK." The shoe hits Wil's bunk and immediate, blind retaliation occurs as a familiar freckled Viper Pilot's hand launches a dirty, rolled-up sock out the curtain's opening. It bounces lightly against the table all the same but it was a sort of ugly gesture. "I've got more where that came from, you bitches!" This comes after another long pause. An empty paper bag goes flipping out of the bunk as well, nowhere near hitting anything. It's rolled up. Actually, it's one of your standard spacesickness barf bags. Upon its blank surface reads the following in large, permanent marker script - 'EMPTY'. Shortly after these shenanigans, the curtain slides open and a tanks-and-sweatpants-clad Wil peers out, with a fierce and nigh-terminal case of bedhead. "You know." He begins, staring from person to person but seeming to linger on Martin first and Samantha second, "I heard that."

"You too," Thorn says to Roubani as he follows Samantha up the footladder. There's another snicker as Wil crawls out of his bunk. "And what do y' plan t' do about it, Rebound?" he asks Price with a smirk as he starts to swing his feet into Sam's rack.

Samantha scoots over in her rack, making room for Thorn. Apparently, they're playing over night in here tonight, and quite comfortable about it. She leans against his side, smiling softly, not really bothering to hide things since everyone frakking knows already. "You heard it, Will, and yet you don't deny. I knew you were a kinky bastard." She winks to the just waking up man, even if she's stifling a bit of a yawn herself. And then back to Roubani. "Four days? Frak, we gotta have a party. Who's up for celebrating Poet's return?"

"Good night, Eddie." Roubani's soft voice isn't seeking to interrupt tender moments, wherever they may be occuring. He's just over here not throwing shoes. Climbing up carefully onto his mattress, he grabs his towel again, blotting dripping hair. Possibly watching Willem get up to see who he'll blame, but his eyes are hidden by the towel. Neener. "That's really not necessary, Passi," he says, rather quickly. "There are more important things to celebrate."

"Double on that." Martin replies, nodding ihs head in Roubani's direction. Stepping away from Eddie's bunk, he lights a new cigarette and nudges Poet on his way past. It's a form of greeting. Turning and dumping himself onto his bunk, he looks up at Sam's rack. It's a much nicer rack than his. "Yeah, like everyone being back okay. You know I think I missed the last party."

To be fair, Wil's attention span ran a little short to actively play the 'blame game.' "We're not like that, Sam." He says, in a bit of a huff. "By the way. There's your barf bag." He does manage to drum up a minimal amount of snark which shines through in this statement. To Thorn, there's a bit of a flare of his nostrils. "Why nothing at all, Rosebud. Whyever do you ask?" These stones being thrown, he stares down at the sandal and immediately starts to glare at Roubani but the glare is flat-out short-circuited as he processes something. Probably Samantha's statement. "Welcome back, Poet." He says, simply with a slight broadening of his lips. "So your old digs are now a shoe-free-zone I assume?"

"I am not really 'back', per se," Roubani to Willem, quietly. "I haven't got full flight status yet. You may call me Nugget the Four-point-five and beat me accordingly for the next five days or so." He gives Martin a slight smile as the man goes past, pulling the towel off his head. Dark chestnut curls stand up every which way until he uselessly fingercombs them half into submission. "And-" Back to Willem, "-Shoe free they may be, though I did hear some very serious discussions before I left…something about…" His hand makes a spiral of recall in the air. "…spitballs being the new black." He pulls his cigarette pack off his shelf, continuing very mildly. "I would look into biohazard suits if I were you and no, condoms do not count."

"Idle curiosity," Thorn replies to Willem with a smirk. He finally pulls the rest of the way into Samantha's bunk, settling in carefully. The two of them being together might not cause the uproar that it once did, but he's still not going out of his way to advertise things, especially in front of this crowd. Nevertheless, he does reach for her hand as he settles in. There's a mock groan at the mention of parties. "Had a bloody headache for two days after th' last bloody party," he chimes in drolly. "Which is t' say, I'm down for it at any time."

Samantha sinks to the side, half resting in Thorn's lap, doing her best to get comfortable post-injury and actually to a point she might actually sleep tonight, unlike sickbay. She hates that place. She smiles towards Roubani…"Plenty good reason to have a party. Especially if we can find some of that delightful stuff from Willem's bachelor party." Mm. Drank. She chuckles at Thorn's response, rubbing one hand lazily against his knee. "That's my boy. Drink until we die. 'least it's a good way to go."

"I'll take my chances." Wil says, glibly. Well, glibly, for him. He shrugs a little now that he's thrown the curtain back, leaning over the edge of his bunk ladder, perched over the thing like some sort of bird. "Besides, I'm entirely civilized. I'm sure whatever I'm doing won't hurt anyone if nobody knows about it." His brows flicker a little downward as he acknowledges Martin. "So Say We All, to that. Wonder who that DASHING CHEF was." There's a bit of a cough there as he amends towards Thorn. "Any aches and pains were largely self-inlicted. I'd imagine. That was…interesting stuff, though." Apparently he and Sam are talking about the same stuff. DRANK!

Roubani flicks his lighter to life, setting the flame to the end of his cigarette. He has no comment about DRANK. The DRANK will stay with him forever. So say we all.

"What's the occasion, there some birthday boy?" Martin asks mutedly, attempting to look as if he's paying too much attention to digging through his locker. The words are passive and he doesn't put much weight behind the question. Slipping his cigarette between his lips, he glances towards Roubani. "When the condom supply runs out, I'm gonna be known as a god around here. Let me know ahead of time if there's something you want to trade for because I'm gonna be swimming in trade." Martin says with a smirk. Once a sexual tyrannosaurus, he's been reduced to a sexual crane operator. He'll get the last laugh.

"I can think of better ways," Thorn murmurs to Samantha. "Though at this rate, we'll be on our deathbeds anyway by th' time we get th' bloody chance." There's an abashed smile at that, then Thorn lights a new cigarette, glancing out towards the others. "Still got a bottle of that left, Wil. I'll have t' break it out next time."

Samantha smiles over to Thorn, squeezing his leg. "…Yeah… you sadly might be right. Not a private moment -on- this ship. But… sometime… somewhere…" They've really not had sex yet? Is this THE Samantha Passi? She sinks down further, so her cheek rests against his thigh, blonde hair spilling over his leg as she remains curled up on her side in her bunk, still facing out to the room. "One bottle lefT? That's all? IT's a sacred thing…" She then looks over to Martin…"Save the condoms. We're safe for now. They're still givin' the front line girls birth control. Thank frakking gods…Not that… we've had the time…"

Roubani just makes an unconcerned grunt at Martin, settling his back against his pillows. His feet cross at the ankles and he just smokes, listening. At least he's up here where any reddened ears will go unnoticed.

"There are a few places." Wil clears his throat and sort of passive-aggressively offers this nugget of information that may or may not be true. He dangles his legs over the edge of the ladder. Beyond this, he doesn't comment. Beyond a solemn nod at the memory of THE DRANK. "You allright, Case?" Well, and that.

"Don't need it painted, Case." Martin replies, turning back to his bunk. The worse are far less aggravated than they sound as he puts on a tone of friendly warning. It's as if he's telling her to not throw a snowball at his head. Scratching the side of his ass, he turns and slips onto his bunk, planting his feet against the wall while he smiles. "Oh trust me…I'm savin' all the birth control. That's the best part of my plan…"

Samantha lofts a skeptical brow at Martin, but she does lay off with Thorn, a bit. She remains laying there, but no more discussion of such things, and her hand remains at her side now. "Your…plan? Should I even ask? And sure, Will…I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" Well, other than the fact that half her head is bandaged, and her left foot is all wrapped up. Physically, she's a bit of a mess, but she's fine otherwise.

"Yeah, just the one," Thorn nods in affirmation, idly reaching down to toy with a stray lock of Samantha's hair. "Have t' save it for a special occasion, I suppose." The bottle, he presumably means. He raises an eyebrow at Martin. "Not sure I want t' know, Dash, but I'm getting a trainwreck-like compulsion t' ask anyway." That's followed by a curious look over to Willem as he asks Samantha his question, but Thorn doesn't interrupt further.

Roubani is up in the bunk above Martin's, wearing his blues trousers and a T-shirt, jacket hung up at the foot of the bunk. Reclined on his side cigarette smoke curls lazily up towards the ceiling from his left hand, which holds one of aforementioned sticks of cancerous doom. The conversation isn't drawing a single comment from him, content to be settled and listen for now.

"When birth control runs out at the sickbay, and I got a private stock that I brought with me before this trip started, who do you think's gonna be everyone's favorite pal around this place?" Martin replies, laying out his master plan. "Look, if there's anyone who should know a thing or two about blindly following your impulses it's me. And if I end up having to give them to the ship's crew? That's fine. But if not you bet your ass I'm gonna get out of laundry duty if some dude or chick comes up to me wanting to trade for a rubber."

Samantha chuckles just a bit more, calling across the room. "Poet, how you feel about your bunk being right above the condom store? Should be a few interesting times around there…. though I can't say I blame ya, martin… ain't a half bad idea. I know I'll do your laundry for a few of those things when the time comes." She admits warmly, still trying to be teasing and light about it all, even if there is more than a bit of awkward to go around concerning all of this. She then looks over to Willem…"Looks worse than it is. Lots of blood, little damage. I'll be fine in a few days. Other than my hair cut. They frakking shaved the side of my head. What the hell am I gonna do about THAT?"

Castor enters into the berthings whistling a little song, a sort of slow sad sounding tune, once he makes his way in he shuts the berthing done and his mouth since whistling in the berthings might wake someone up. He then moves to his locker as he wants to put up some recently accquired things he has been trading around for.

"I believe this sort of thing was the origin of the notion of 'turning a blind eye'," Roubani answers Samantha in his soft voice, very mildly. He gets a last drag off his cigarette and gently mashes it out in the ashtray.

"At least we're descending to the role of 'shopkeeper' as opposed to 'bandit." Wil smirks, with some sort of twinge of good humor as he attempts to figure out whether he is really going to sleep further or not. "I don't know. I kind of have a problem with this whole 'getting shot,' thing, Sam. Stop."

"Don't expect me t' ever offer t' fold your skivvies, Dash," Thorn replies wryly as Martin lays out his plan. "But… if it comes down t' it, I might be along with cigarettes t' trade. If it ever gets t' that point, anyway." He chuckles lightly as Samantha mentions her 'haircut', and his fingers trace lightly along a stretch of buzzed scalp. "It's not that bad. Makes y' look dangerous. It'll grow back, anyway." He leans in to plant a kiss on top of her head. Yeah, that's right, people. PDA, ZOMG. "Rebound's right, though, y' know. This getting shot habit of yours gets old rather bloody quickly. You should quit that."

Samantha closes her eyes at the kiss, but her own exhaustion is getting to her. "Alright handsome, in or out. I'm actually gonna get some shut eye…" She mutters, giving his leg one last squeeze before sitting up so she can shift around onto her pillow. "Night, boys. Good to have ya back, Poet. Maybe I'll make ya tea in the morning." She offers earnestly, before shifting her position to curl up properly in her bunk, on her pillow, tucked towards the back.

Castor looks over at the conversation, "We play shopkeeper and not bandit because I've seen bandits, that whole system turns into anarchy, and then some one or a group of someones band together and take over." He then looks over at Thorn and says, "I've got some good stuff for cigarettes around here." He then looks over at Samantha, "Sleep tight, Sam." He then shuts his locker concealing the items he has scrounged up.

"I'd point a finger at Mooner 'bout that, too, but." Wil seems a bit out of commentary here, shrugging, nonplussed. He looks from the retiring Poet to Thorn and Martin and Sam as well. "Whatever. I'm a non violent seperatist. I'll be off in my little corner. Doing something harmless. Really."

"I don't like trading my smokes, Tinman… only do it for shit I really need. I go through 'em quick enough as is, y' know?" Thorn gives Samantha a look as if to say 'why, in, of course.' He yawns, showing a bit of exhaustion himself. "Not going anywhere. Getting t' that point myself." He settles in on his back, adjusting his pillow slightly as he allows Sam to pull up a bit of shoulder if she wants it. The curtain isn't closed right away, as Thorn takes long enough to offer a nod and a "Night" to those still gathered around.

Samantha gives a brief wave good night herself, but then she's tugging the curtains shut and soon they're left in darkness.

Castor takes a seat at the table, "Everyone has vices and they will do things to have those vices met." He then says, "Though I'll keep in mind you might want smokes for trade." He then looks over at Willem, "Wil, that is why we like you non-violent types on a ship full of weapons is a good thing." He then winks, "So, everyone is going to sleep now?"

"Don't look at me. I don't have any answers." Wil finally states. "And I don't like violence for a reason, Leda. Remember that." He tosses back in his bunk and crosses his arms behind his head, leaning into the pillow.

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