Welcome to Marine Country
Welcome to Marine Country
Summary: Cinder arrives from basic and AIT; Jacobs is waiting with needles.
Date: PHD174 (9 Oct 2009)
Related Logs: None

The last few weeks, turning into months, had been hectic, to say the least. The last time something seemed impossible, it was the transition from the opulent lifestyle on Caprica and the cushy travels on the Elpis from Colony to Colony as work dictated to the rationed, controlled, downright boring civillian refugee lifestyle on board the liner following the Holocaust. This though, really seemed impossible. Of course, here Cinder is, out of basic, and out of AIT for Military Police, crisp, pressed uniform and the twinkling, polished Private's insignias on the collars of her shirt. Clutching a small sheet of paper with crude directions about Kharon leaves her standing out in the corridor, looking at the entrance to the Marine Berthings. She takes a deep breath, hefts the huge duffel bag over one slender shoulder with a groan, and spins the lock on the door. It spins with some whining of metal, the door opens with the familiar squeal and clang, as she steps inside.

And what a pleasant sight awaits her, really. The berthings are empty, with everyone either off for duty or doing whatever it is they do on their own time. That is, all except for a man in tan scrubs, sitting at one of the top bunks. He must have been expecting her because before the door is even open he's saying, "Private Brand?" Then he looks up from the book he's reading and his attention is very clearly gotten, and his breath probably taken away just a little.

"Sir?" It's…her first reaction. She's a Private. Everyone on Kharon is Sir or Ma'am (or still Sir, if they're sticklers!) to her. She looks around a moment, then drops her stuff inside the door. It falls to the metal deck with a soft WHUMP!, filled with folded uniforms, fleet-issued garments for work and time off-duty, her marine armor, and everything else. She's yet to be assigned her sidearms, having not yet met the Master at Arms. Few (if any) personal items are in that duffel, just a few things here and there that she was able to keep when jettisoning dead weight on the Elpis to keep fuel reserves as high as possible. After dropping the duffel, and finding the Corporal, she stands herself up straight as a board, giving the crisp, sharp salute she trained to a reflex in basic. "Private Cinder Brand, reporting, Sir!"

Jacobs clears his throat then as he, very casually, hops off of what is apparently his bunk. His boots hit the floor with a loud 'thump' before he turns around and grabs a box from up top that says 'Milvax'. Seems he has decided not to take it down yet as he corrects the Private, "You call me 'Corporal', Private." His silky smooth voice is capped by a Caprican accent as he continues. "Or 'Corp' or 'Jacobs'." He winks playfully then, "But it's Corporal Jacobs when the brass is around, yes? Oh…and don't salute me. I'm enlisted too, you know." He waves his hand to tell her to put it down. "Time to pick your bunk, eh?"

"Yes Sir!" she replies, enthusiastically. Her voice is…strong, excited, but still a bit kittenish. She too has a Caprican accent, but it's one of those 'wrong side of the tracks, I look good but I was raised poor' sort of accents. She definitely grew up in a socially and economically repressed part of Caprica City. It wasn't too long ago that she was stripping and escorting for cash, back when sex was a casual and carnal pleasure for enjoyment first and procreation second. Now…well, it has a more primal purpose. With a curt nod, she snags her duffel and walks briskly to an unclaimed bottom bunk, where she tosses her duffel down on mattress pad. "This one will do, Sir!"

Jacobs sighs, "Brand. Stop that." It's almost an order. "You call me 'Corporal' or 'Jacobs', got it? I am not a 'sir'." His eyes drift over her less than momentarily, really and then he clears his throat. "And don't worry, I'm not in charge of you or anything, you can calm down around me." He points to the box on his bunk as he says, "I'm just here to give you your shots and answer any questions or anything."

"Oh….okay, Corporal. Just…nervous to be out of school and on the job for real, you know?" She eyes the box as well, and gives a nod. "Guess we should get those out of the way, right Corporal?" She gives a wary, nervous smile, before taking a seat on the metal chairs at the table in the middle of the room. Without hestiation though, she jacks up the arm of her tan uniform shirt to her shoulder, revealing the still-softish bicep, a little definition added courtesy of basic.

Jacobs nods, "Yes. Getting them out of the way would be best." He smiles in a calming way as he opens up the box. He's quick and professional, probably having done this for years really. A couple of them hurt, but the majority of the shots don't even feel like anything happened. Real pro. "And you don't have to be nervous around me, yeah? I'm a medic, I'll always make sure you're ok."

Cinder gives a quick nod. "I hope so. But then again, I hope I'm not getting hurt too often running patrols around Kharon and watching the brig." She's gone through MP AIT, but she's still green, yet to receive an actual patrol assignment or partner. A few of the shots do make her wince, but while they might've made the old Cin cry, these just make her scrunch her nose a bit and grit her teeth.

Jacobs chuckles, "Well I assume you won't get yourself hurt too badly around here, but Lords know that we all often have to take up other duties as well." He winks then, "But I did also mean outside of medical stuff." He waves a hand dismissively about it, "We're all very close around here. Probably because we have to sleep so near each other and because we work together so much." He then puts his medical equipment away as he heads back over to his bunk, now officially off-duty. And as such, he makes sure to start to change into said offduty uniform. No need to be bashful about it.

Another curt nod and she's up and back at her bunk. When he unzips and undresses, she can't help but look over to sneak a peek, being new and all. Sure, she knows the etiquette regarding these kinds of things in the Corps, but old habits die hard, right? When she turns back to her duffel, she's got a red blush on her cheeks, and a little smile on her lips. All she does is steal a little peek though, knowing that in the future, she won't want others on board to stare lewdly at her body.

The medic isn't the biggest fellow, not like a lot of marines. However, his form is lean and cut as is to be expected. Marines do have to be in fantastic shape, afterall. He does steal a look back at her as well, even though she is clothed, probably to check to see if she looked. "Caught you." He says, whether he did or not.

Thankfully, she's leaning over her bunk, rifling through her duffel. The Corporal no doubt gets a good look at her firm rump inside those dark green slacks; when he reveals that he caught her, she blushes even redder! How embarassing would that be if he had seen her blushing like that. "S-sorry Corporal. I couldn't help but take a look, you know…" That, of course, lets him know that she did, in fact, take a look!

Jacobs snorts. Smart people can sometimes be huge jerks without meaning it. "Happens all the time, I swear." he says as he has finished changing, adding a dose of self-deprecating sarcasm to the moment. He then slides the 'Milvax' box into his locker and climbs back up into his bed with a contented sigh.

The Corporal kicks back on his bunk; the recruit continues to empty her things out, leaning over her bunk. A few thin, ragged paperbound books get set on the small shelf at the head of the bunk. The uniforms go into the small bit of storage for linens and uniforms at the foot of the bunk. It only takes her a few moments before she's unpacked enough that she can climb into the bunk herself, taking a deep breath. No going back now. This is it, this is the big time.

He chuckles a little as he watches her do her thing. Privates are often funny when they are unsure of things. He shakes his head then when she's put herself into her bunk, probably about to sleep and he says, "Hey Private?" This is only to get her attention. Then it takes a bit for him to think of something to say. The only thing he can think of is, "Welcome to Marine Country."

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