Smokin' In The Laundry Room
Smokin' In The Laundry Room
Summary: Three of Kharon's most notorious chainsmokers happen to be doing laundry at the same time. A new marine recieves a slightly lukewarm welcome from a couple of the carrier's officers.
Date: PHD205 (Nov 10 2009)
Related Logs: None

Kom-player interrupts a scene already in progress

Rian perks up a bit, allowing her hand to swing free from the hand shake, her body turning in the seat for follow the CAG, "What's that Sir?" A quick glance to the LT then back to him.

There's a deep toke of his cigarette, before Beckett's looking back from the pilot, that is towards the marine which seems to be the one entertaining the conversation. A slight pause, before the Weapons officer is leaning back against his machine as it continues its' steady churn and hum. This should be good.

Looks like it's time for Komnenos' monthly trip to the laundry. He enters just as he always does; wearing the offduty uniform, he's dragging an overstuffed laundry bag behind him as a cigarette bobs lightly on his lips. Black Squadron has to be pleased for the respite from the cornucopia of smells from his locker. Thorn moves in towards one of the beat up metal tables, with a silent nod to the CAG and curious looks for the other two.

Stepping around Amaranth's chair, the CAG reaches his machine just as it buzzes. Good timing, or perhaps merely dumb luck. "Just don't forget how to laugh." What kind of crackpotted advice is that, anyway? He tucks his half-smoked cigarette between his lips and begins shoving warm clothing into his laundry bag. Komnenos gets a brief glance, and a curt nod in return.

Rian lets the CAG move past her, dark brows and eyes furrowing at his so called 'advice'. Rising from her chair she spins around, dropping the cig to the metal floor and snuffing it with her boot. "Wait she says," walking up to him by the machine, the others in the room not even spared a glance. Leaning close to his ear she speaks softly, not be able to be heard over the machines.

Beckett chuckles slightly around his smoke, before he's moving to check on his mail, ever so slightly, and then the lid is dropped back down, letting it finish the cycle, before he can start on drying. That process never seems to take too terribly long anyway. Though the look that the marine gets when she moves in at Karim is a little suspect. Perhaps a hint of judgement there, before his attention is distracted by the incoming pilot. A nod is offered to Komnenos, and it is back to laundry.

Kai gets an ever so slight browraise from Thorn before he turns to begin sorting his laundry. The CAG, reminding someone to laugh? Perhaps someone should check to see if he's got that sickness going around. Then, it's back to sorting and smoking, pausing only to offer Beckett a jaunty two-fingered salute, and to steal one last curious glance at Kai and Rian. Secrets, secrets, are no fun…

Kai is fairly efficient about his task; there's no folding, sorting, or any real organisation involved. Though judging by the un-rumpled nature of what he's currently wearing, maybe he just plans on dealing with it properly later. He continues pulling clothing out of the machine as the marine climbs out of her chair, and wanders in closer. There's a pause when she speaks softly to him, blue eyes drifting toward her and then away again. "I might." By which he means, he does. The lid's banged shut.

Rian ignores the stares of the other men, fingers coming together as she idly picks at one of her thumbnails. Bowing her head slightly lower, dark hair falls over her cheeks curtaining her glance. Nimble hands move to grab a tshirt that comes from the CAG's laundry, folding it on top of another washer's lid.

Still the look given over to the secretive private, is enough to have eyes flicking back towards the CAG, the brow does not lower from Beckett's features, no right ow it seems to be hung up there by some form of facial sticky tac. A cough, and with that the Lieutenant is reaching for his clothing after the chime, on to move a few of his sundry items into the dryer. One might think that his wife would do this-

But, those often ponders, do not know his wife.

Thorn's hardly staring; in fact, by the time Rian grabs Kai's shirt from the pile, his attention has moved on entirely. He moves to open a washer that stands across the row from Beckett's dryer, and begins to dump dirty articles of clothing into it; skivvies, undershirts, the like. The older lieutenant gets a knowing look from Thorn as the ECO pours in a capful of detergent and starts 'er up. The process is repeated with a second load in the adjacent washer, a trail of smoke following him as he moves back and forth.

The Captain's undoubtedly aware of the various glances being sent his way. It's a small ship, and it's an even smaller laundry room. Marines and pilots; it's like crossing the streams. "I'll think about it," is his murmured reply to whatever she tells him next, eye contact briefly made and then rescinded as he reaches for the tshirt she folded and set aside. Awkward, thy name is Karim. "Have a good day, Private. Lieutenants." Bag collected, he brushes past her and heads for the hatch.

Rian nods once, fingers rising to tuck dark hair behind her ear in a familiar motion. Stepping back she allows the CAG to leave without saying another word. Dark eyes look to the two others in the room and then back to her machine. Raising the lid she pulls out the wet goods, gathering them up in her arms she moves to the row of dryers, tossing them in and switching it on.

"Good t' see you as always, sir," Thorn says mildly, with perhaps just the slightest hint of a deadpan in his tone. His eyes follow the CAG for a moment as Kai moves past him, but a moment later it's back to the task at hand. A few more clothes of various colors are tossed into either of his open machines before he finally shuts the lids with a soft bang. The lanky ECO turns around, leaning against the machine as he keeps working on that cigarette. A short procession of smoke rings escapes his lips as he exhales.

"Araka fi ma ba'd." Beckett replies cooly in Kashmiri on towards the Captain, before he is looking back towards Rian. A clicking of his tongue- before those clothes are quickly slid into the dryer and turned on. A lean back, as he takes time to ash onto the ground, and scuttle it udner the washing machine with his boot. No nothing more to see here.

"By the way, Thorn, I need a word with you. After your next shift." It's added just as the CAG's stepping out, and then the hatch clangs shut after him.

Rian clears her throat for a moment before turning around, leaning her back against the dryer and crossing her arms over her chest. Her glance goes back and forth between the two others busily doing their laundry. She seems relaxed but doesn't speak.

Startled, Anton's eyes snap back to the hatch as his name is called out by the CAG. "Of c…" But then, Kai's already gone. Thorn grunts, muttering the "Of course, sir" under his breath sardonically, instead. There's another one of those mildly interested looks, this one directed at Beckett. "What'd you say t' him, Lieutenant?" he asks curiously. "I don't speak Kashmiri, but I think I know a nasty little curse when I hear one…"

That brings a look from the Lieutenant, one right over towards the other man. "Aerelon." Beckett starts. "I understand a pig farmer's accent when I hear one.." One might take that as an insult, or one might leave it alone. As such He's looking to his laundry for a second. "What I said to Captain Marek, is that I would see him later." a pause back over as brown eyes watch the other for a stony moment. "It sounded as if you did something of importance." With that he's looking back towards Rian, perhaps still curious as to whatever interaction she had with the CAG.

Rian shrugs at the Sagittaron, shoulders rising and falling lazily, "Importance?" she questions. As the talks of pig farming she gives Thorn a long stare, starting from his boots and working her way up. When she's finished she looks back to Beckett, brow still furrowed. "We had decent conversation, which is more then I can say about many of the interactions with crewmen on this ship." Shaking her head she tilts it to the side, "Don't give me that look, it's not what you think so stop thinking it."

For the barest fraction of a second, Thorn bristles, and he gets a stormy look in his eyes that in the past would have been a prelude to a fight. It passes quickly though, and Komnenos simply utters a short, barking laugh. "Pig farmer, eh? I suppose I'll have t' look around for my missing herds next time I'm on the flight deck, as I've not seen a bloody pig in years." The cigarette comes back to his lips, and he takes a drag. Thorn gives Beckett a sly look as he translates the Kashmiri words. "I'm sure." Blue eyes meet brown, unyieldingly returning the other man's stare, and Komnenos shrugs a moment later. "Sounds that way. Good important or bad important? Frak if I know when it comes t' Captain Stoneface. Guess I'll find out, eh?"

Thorn's eyes turn back to Rian, and his left brow sneaks skyward. He chuckles, a dry, throaty sound. "Don't worry, I'm not about t' impugn your honor without cause, Private." Said eyebrow furrows even further, though, as he belatedly considers her second to last sentence. "Some advice… you might do better in that regard if y' disengage your panties from th' twist they seem t' be in."

"Not you." said clearly back to Rian. However it seems the Marine has captured Beckett's attention further. "You do not know what I think, Private- so do not presume to tell me what I am thinking." quick and cold. Or as Praxis might say-efficent. Needless to say, He's dismissed the notion and is looking back to Komnenos. Perhaps its the look he sees, or the bristling, but Josef's lip half curls in a smirk, before it is back down. "Good, there are terribly unclean and unlucky animals." A drag of his cigarette, and then he is up, reaching for his laundry, time to take and fold, just enough that it will drive Agatha crazy later. "I guess you shall. I hope it is of the good importance." he tacts on as an afterthought.

"I would hate to see the bad."

Rian simply shakes her head, pushing her boot against the front of the dryer to push herself off. Arms still crossed she moves across the large room, opening the hatch and leaving. Guess she'll come back for her delicates?

Thorn casts a genuinely surprised look towards the hatch as Rian suddenly hunches over and storms out. After a moment, though, he snorts derisively, shaking his head as he takes another pull from the cigarette. Then, a sidelong glance at the Lieutenant, and Thorn rolls his eyes in the direction of the exit before turning back to his laundry.

As the Laundry is finished, Beckett takes his time to fold his pieces up and slide them into his bag, before he is looking back to Thorn. Apparently the snort is of the same mind length that the Lieutenant, as he finishes up his folding and loading. A sinch of the bag's draw strings, and there's a slight nod given towards Lieutenant Komnenos. "Ma'a salama.." muttered in the usual cool tones of Kashmiri, before he is ducking out himself.

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