Wishes and Horses
Wishes and Horses
Summary: Castor fantasizes about what might be while Timon gets a haircut.
Date: PHD137
Related Logs: None


It's not out of the realm of possibility that Kharon has a barber on board. Alas, if she does, Timon isn't fortunate enough to know him — and so it is that the pilot steps into the head with a pair of scissors in hand, its blades safely sheathed in his palm. His other hand is currently running through his overly long brown curls, sweeping through them with something akin to regret. A white towel is slung over his shoulders, its ends not quite reaching down to his waist.

Leda looks over at Marissa, "Mimi, things are a bit different around here. If you are really worried about it get a shower buddy to watch the door for you." He then says, "And will you be needing an escort today, Mimi?" He asks curiously, "So the midshipman can go about his work?" He then looks over at Thea and he gives a smile, "See, I told you she is good people." He then looks over at Timon who has also aparently entered into the head and gives a word of greeting, "Ivory."

Thea gives Castor a look, head cocking to the side slightly. "She's still under Security guard," Thea comments quietly. "So we can't exactly dismiss folks without the S2's permission." Marissa gets an apologetic look. "Sorry about that, M'am. But we don't allow civilians to roam aboard the ship." And then she catches sight of Timon and looks from him to the scissors with a little wince. "Want me to try my hand at trimming, Ivory?

"Natch… nothing spoils a morning shower like forgetting to do it because somebody's nattering about flying," Mimi replies with a grin. "I'll be sure to catch you after my shower. I'd like to hear some about the Raptors, myself. I've heard they're not a lot different in concept from the Condors I was flying."

From flying to practical head advice. Mimi nods, her expression having never lost its hints of discomfort, even talking with the Captain. "I'll have to take that advice. But I know a couple of people I could talk to about it, at least.

She glances up warily as the hatch opens again… and it turns out to be another familiar face. The smile she gives him isn't comfortable, but it's there. "Ivory… hi!"

"Leda." Timon shuffles past the Viper stick, boots dragging slowly against deck — he's about as enthused about cutting his own hair as a cat about visiting the veterinarian. "Morning, Captain. And — uh — " His bleary eyes blink several times as he catches sight of the smiling girl. One can almost see the gears in his head spinning to life after a few hours dormant. "Morning," he mumbles to Marissa, whose name he still can't quite remember. Then, back to business: "You sure you don't want me to do this myself?" he offers, holding up his makeshift shears. "It's been a while since the squadron had a good laugh at my expense."

Castor looks at Thea and it is a look which reads as, 'Aw, c'mon'. It is the sort of look a younger brother would give his older sister and then he says, "Forgive me, I forgot about the S2 for a moment." He says as he watches the possible trim that is about to happen and he says, "Go easy on her, Ivory." He then looks back at Mimi, "Though I'm serious on that offer from last night. I've got a few tastes from home stowed away in my many hidey holes." He says as he finishes shaving. He then takes a towel he left at the side of his sink to wipe off any leftover shaving cream.

"It's okay, Ma'am. I'm getting used to it." Mimi casts a glance at the door. It's not a happy glance. "But at least McGillicuddy doesn't have to be in the shower with me, thank the Lords for small favors."
Leda's renewed invitation draws a genuine smile. "Just say when. It's not like I've got a busy social calendar these days," she tells him, flippantly but not without a hint of affection. Aquarians… go figure.
Timon's intentions become clear with the Captain's question. "Hmm… Ivory, I could cut your hair. I know how," Mimi offers.

Thea opens her mouth to say something to Timon when the wireless squawks, summoning her to the Flight Deck. Great. Just what a woman wants just after she wakes up. "If you won't let our guest do it," she tells Timon. "Wait until tonight and I'll do it for you." Awwww, Momma Cat in full effect. She gives the trio a smile and heads for the hatch at a jog. "Have a good afternoon," she calls back over her shoulder.

Timon's already-furrowed brow furrows some more when Leda speaks up; judging from his lack of response, he doesn't really quite know the identity of the woman he's supposed to go easy on. The momentary confusion doesn't pass particularly quickly — he still looks a bit bemused when the captain is summoned away, and his befuddlement only increases when girl-whose-name-he-doesn't-know offers to wrangle his hair. Lidded eyes — crusted over, the product no doubt of long days and short nights — blink twice more; then, without a word, he's handing over the scissors. Leap of faith much?

Leda looks over at Timon and he smiles as an offer is made to cut Timon's hair, Leda always uses clippers since high and tight is easy to do and utterly Viper-esque of him. He then says, "Well, I'm free after you give Ivory a hair cut. Since I am post CAP." He then says, "Combat Air Patrol." He then looks over at Timon, "What sort of look are you aiming for, eltee?"

"'Bye, Captain," Mimi calls with a wave. "Keep your six clear!" Talking with Viper pilots means learning Viper pilot talk, whether you want to or not.
She smiles as Timon passes over the scissors, looking them over for a moment. "I promise you won't regret it," she says, as reassuringly as she can. Which probably isn't very, with the habitual energetic bounce her voice always has. Still, she can see the back of his head, right?
"Post CAP… free for the day, then? I think I have time after my shower."

"Shorter." Yeah. The Raptor-driver really isn't a morning person. Gone are the long sentences that usually characterize his speech; gone is his habitual half-smile; gone is his ability to describe what he wants done to his hair. Then, as if realizing that's not quite enough: "With gravitas." More blinking. "If that makes any sense." And then, perhaps noticing the fact that the girl before him might not be able to reach his head while he stands, he drops to his knees, forehead resting lightly against the metal edge of a sink — not unlike a prisoner condemned to die in older and more barbaric days.

Roubani drifts into the Head, boots making thumps that he consciously keeps soft. He has a towel over his shoulder and some items in a small mesh bag with a draw closure, wrapped around his left wrist just under the loop of prayer beads. His right arm, as it often is after his shifts, is less skin than ink. Blue and black writing winds up his arm, in spirals at points where he started running out of room near his elbow.

Castor says, "If you want I'll stand by the door so you can take a shower in private, that is, if you want." He then looks at the call for gravitas and the pilot smirks. "Eltee, Mimi might be joining Black Squad." He says in an attempt to let Timon know who the woman is that is cutting his hair. He then says, "Aparently, Mimi can pilot and cuthair, I do believe this brings new meaning to the expression, cut out and RTB!"

"Um… okay. Shorter, with gravitas. I'm guessing gravitas aren't anything like sideburns," Mimi says, feeling just a little like an idiot. But she takes hold of the scissors confidently and pinches a lock of hair between two fingers, going to work with steady snips and pinches. Roubani's entrance doesn't even make her look up.
Nor does she look up when Castor makes his offer, but she does smile faintly in gratitude. Of course, it's at the back of Timon's head, so he might not catch it. "That's… that's very nice of you, Tin."

Timon doesn't see Poet enter, nor can he recognize the pilot-turned-snipe from legs alone. Ivory and Poet aren't that close, nuh-uh. Then, aloud: "We've met, Leda." It's a not a growl. It's not even a grumble. Indeed, there's not a hint of irritation in the man's mild tenor, though his voice does sound a bit scratchier than usual. Mornings. "And sideburns — " Ivory's nose crinkles as he thinks. "They might be, but probably not so much on me." If he catches her confusion — well. Belay that. He doesn't.

Haircut party. Not quite as surreal as if, say, Timon were getting his nails done. But it still makes Roubani's head tip just that little bit. He scratches his thumb gently under his left eye and silently takes up a sink, towel laid on a bench nearby. There's a long glance over his right arm and his daily notes - his forearm at least seems to have been subjected to some long discussion with himself about the Lane-Emden equation; meanwhile Kepler's been vying for canvas space on the underside plus his scarred wrist and several fingers. Satisfied that he needs nothing further from it, apparently, he turns on the faucet and reaches for the sliver of soap left over.

Leda nods his as Timon speaks, "Ah, good to know, eltee." He then looks over at Roubani as he gives a formal gretting to Roubani, "Lieutenant." He then looks over at Mimi watching her work as he moves to a locker and produces some clothing, mostly his off duty uniform which is thrown on over his BDU's and his shaving gear is put up. He then says, "My pleasure, Mimi." He then looks over at Roubani's arm though he says nothing for now as he moves back to join the group if for no other reason than witnessing this haircut.

Mimi's concentrating, her ears working though her mind is firmly on her task. "Okay… no sideburns. Or at least short, if any. I think I can manage that." Her hands and scissors say she can more than manage it. "Thanks, Tin. I owe you one."

Timon can't help but wince when Marissa makes the first cut, the faint snick of metal on metal sending a brief shiver down his spine. And when he sees the first clump of brown locks drifting past his eyes to land by his knees, trepidation is writ large across his face. Not, of course, that it's visible to anybody who's not underneath a sink, but still.

"Good morning," Roubani murmurs to Castor. His voice is kept low, as though afraid startling the nameless woman might end up in Timon's head going rolling across the floor. Since her attention's turned he can at least study her curiously for a moment or two, before he douses his arm in water up to the elbow and starts to scrub away at it.

Leda looks over at Timon, "Think we could get a request in for a barber on this ship, sir?" He looks over at Rou and he says nothing since for once he just wants to sit here and look at the haircut as it happens. However, he does chuckle as he begins to think of some of the things he would like to request, "Then again, that could be something to talk about, if you could request anything on the Kharon and get it what would you request?"

Mimi feels Timon's head move, her fingers being next to his skin, and she glances in the mirror. "Oh, don't look like that!" she exclaims, trying not to laugh. "It's not like I'm using a straight razor or something!" She shakes her head and goes back to cutting, fingers and scissors moving in practiced coordination.
Leda's question makes the dark-haired girl frown faintly. "Hmm… could I get back to you on that?"

Roubani keeps a quiet, shy eye on the group. There's no interruption, just the sound of the sink going as he carefully scrubs ink off his arm. Lifting his left hand to his mouth, he tugs his prayer beads off his wrist with his teeth, gingerly holding them like that to keep them out of the way of soap and water.

Timon allows himself a brief chuckle at the notion of a straight razor being applied to his unruly hair. Maybe he takes her words to heart: subsequent snipping doesn’t elicit so much as a hiss, let alone a look of abject terror. And as for Castor? “No, Leda,” is Ivory’s considered response. Well, that was short. “I don’t think we could.”

Leda then says, "Well, I'd request a steak dinner with all the trimmings, a nice red to go with it, and desert - something with coffee ice cream and caramel." He gets a distant goofy look on his face as he thinks about it. He then has to ask Roubani, "Lieutenant, what happened to your arm?" Yup, no one ever gets to much privacy in the head.

"There, that's better," Mimi says, grinning at Timon in the mirror. "Now you're making this easier." The trimming is going a little more quickly now. It might actually look different in the next ten minutes.
"Oh, that'd be nice… Lords, I can't even remember what steak tastes like. Of all the things to forget." Mimi sounds a bit wistful. "For one or for all hands?"

Timon merely 'mmms'. Whether that's due to his newfound comfort — more precisely, his newfound lack of obvious discomfort — or to the thought of a nice steak dinner with all the trimmings he doesn't quite say. He does, however, give voice to what he thinks about Castor's fantasy: "That's what you'd request?" The words themselves aren't disapproving: it's almost like he's asking a clarification question, as if he didn't hear quite right.

"Oh, nothing," Roubani's soft voice tells Castor, as he flicks water off his hands. Blue ink swirls around the porcelain bowl, wet droplets of blue running down his arm like alien sweat. Talking around the prayer beads between his teeth, it's a tad muffled. "I ran out of paper." The discussion of what one would request on the Kharon hasn't gone past him, Castor's response bringing a faintly bewildered look on his face. Which he accompanies by his usual gesture, a fingertip gently rubbed across his eyebrow. Now he has a blue eyebrow.

"Mimi, for everyone, I mean, it'd be selfish of me not too besides something that good would have to be shared." He then looks at the hair cutting and yeah, it does look like the trimming is going well though Castor can't make heads or tales of it. He says to Timon, "Yeah, that's what I'd request. Something for morale and for our stomachs." He then looks over at Roubani and as Roubani speaks Castor nods, "I see…maybe I can scrounge you up some paper."

Mimi just keeps working, blushing faintly at how obvious that answer should've been. "Oh… sorry. I should've remember our earlier conversation," she murmurs, frowning into Timon's hair.
She does look up, pausing in her work, at that question about Roubani's arm. "Huh? Nobody's hurt, are… yuck! I hope that washes off easy," she says, a bit dismayed.

Timon might not be able to see what Roubani's doing — he's kneeling with his forehead to a sink and Mimi's scissors to his head — but he at least recognizes the voice. "Poet," he offers from his position on the deck, venturing a wave that might not be visible by the snipe and his now-blue eyebrow. A faint mist of shaggy brown hair drifts down from his upper arm before settling down on the white towel he still hasn't bothered removing from his shoulders. Yeah — that was a bad idea. Then, at Castor's response: "Lieutenant Leda," he murmurs. "Guarantor of the stomachs and well-being of all hands aboard."

Roubani flushes slightly at Mimi's concern, ears turning a very faint shade of red. "Oh no, it's perfectly fine…ma'am." Politely spoken, the honorific comes after a brief mental flail. To Castor he remarks quietly, "At this rate we'll be recycling into our own version of papyrus before long." And to Timon, an automatic little wave back, even if he may not see it. "Hello, Ivory."

Kitty comes in, towel and a small shower kit in tow. Having heard voices just before opening the hatch makes it known that people are here but she still balks slightly, blushing as she sees all of who is here. "Hey, guys," she murmurs while setting stuff down and then starts to get ready for a shower. "Ivory, what the frak are you two doing?" As the question is asked she starts to get undressed but she stops just before tugging her shirts up over her head for a second, staring at Roubani now.

Castor looks over at Roubani first, "Well, if you need some paper I can find you some, though, that is an easy trade these days. Now, hooch on the other hand is worth the kings ransom." He looks over at Timon and he teases at the thought of taking care of each person on this ship, "Well, someone has to look out for us all, sir." Then again Leda is always helping people on this ship. He then looks at Mimi and as she blushes a brief smile comes to his face. He looks over at Kitty, "Mimi is giving him a haircut."

Mimi blushes again, faintly. "Oh… sorry to overreact. But what happened? I haven't seen that shade of blue in many places." She doesn't stop listening, but she does turn back to her work.
She glances down at Timon in the mirror. "Almost done… He's a poet?"
And then someone else comes in. Someone with a familar voice. "Hi, Kitty!" Mimi calls without turning around.

You two? Roubani quirks both brows at Kitty. He's just washing his arm off! "I needed paper," he offers the explanation again to Mimi, lamely. Missing the question to Timon about his callsign, he wipes his hands and arms (still a lovely shade of ink blue) on his towel and slides his hand back through the loop of prayer beads. "Morning, Ajtai."

"Poet's his callsign," clarifies Ivory. "I suppose you could call him Nadiv, or Roubani, or — dare I say it — Rou." He keeps his expression blank, though he can't resist a small, hidden smile. Apparently, Timon's now sufficiently awake that he can form coherent sentences. "Morning, Kitty. How's it look?" And as for Castor — well, Timon would normally shake his head, but by now he's cogent enough to realize that doing so would have lasting and disastrous consequences. As such, he contents himself with a quiet sigh and nothing more.

Leda for his part is just kind of standing in the head, in his off duty uniform, apparently he has finished his business here but he is watching a haircut. He then turns on his heels to address Kitty, "Hey, Kitters, if you could request anything on this ship and you would get it then what would you request?" He then smiles, "I said steak dinner with all the trimmings, red wine, and desert." He then looks over at Mimi, "Not bad." He says softly as he admires the work she is doing. Though he looks back at Kitty since he wants to know what she will say.

"You can call me Kitty when we're not on duty," Kitty reminds Roubani. "Or Katherine, if you'd rather be more…proper." She smiles at that, trying to soften her reminder by doing so. "Hi, Mimi…" She then says while making her way closer, forgetting to get undressed for now. "Ivory, what…oh wow." Chuckling, she reaches out and tussles his hair. "Castor, what happened at the gym after I left?" Now having said her 'hellos', of sort, she returns to what it was she was preparing to do, setting into a stall to get undressed to spare the more embarrassable members by doing so. "A bubble bath," she says immediately, answering Castor's question with only a second's worth of thought given. "Roubani, what kind of paper do you need?"

"Did you… write on your arm? Nadiv?" Mimi asks, slowly beginning to understand. It makes her slow down in her work, though it also means she can spare the time for a grateful look to Timon. Military matters are so confusing…
But there's one last snip, a touch-up snip or two, then she sighs and lowers her scissors. "Done. How does it look, Ivory?"

"Hmm?" Roubani absently glances at Timon. On the 'Rou', even. They're getting him trained, slowly. His attention gets distracted right away though, over to Kitty. "Oh, no, I just happened to run out. I have plenty, it's just never there when I mean to write on it, you see." Then to Mimi, as he hears yet another version of his name. "It happens." He gives her a half-shy, half-embarassed smile, then checks his watch. "Ah, would you excuse me. I just have to run something down to Eos." Towards the door he doth inch.

"Bubble bath." Leda nods his head, "Nice." He then looks over at Mimi for a moment as the gym is brought back up and he says, "Your brother and I had a brief talk." He hopes Mimi doesn't bring up how frakking weird said talk was misunderstandings and all. He waits for Ivory's response from Mimi's haircut. He looks over at Roubani, "I'll see what I can do to get you some post-its for your pocket." He then rubs his forhead briefly, "Take care then, Lieutenant." No, but seriously, no one mention the weirdness with Pandorian.

Castor's response doesn't elicit much confidence from Timon — and neither does Crybaby's, who even ruffles his hair (WTF!) while Mimi's scissors are snipping, clipping away. At last, though, the woman finishes up and Timon gets to see the results of her handiwork. He'll delay, of course: the man takes a long time brushing hair off his shoulders, arms, and trousers, and an even longer time sweeping into his towel all the stray brown locks that cover the deck. Then, only then, does he dare to peer into the mirror, rubbing at his eyes as he does. "It's shorter," he says after a brief moment of contemplation. Then, peering closer: "Should be easier to manage. Doesn't do much about this, though." His finger jabs at his receding hairline as he chuckles. And the verdict? "Looks good to me."

"Oh… it was nice meeting you, Nadiv. Poet," Mimi amends hastily. And too late: he's already out the door. "Well, that's one more person I have to try and catch later… at least it's not about business," she murmurs with a sigh.
She steps back so Timon can stand, brushing a couple of stray snips of hair off his back. "Frosty. I just hope it works as well under a helmet as it does in the mirror." She grins at the older man. "You're right; it does look good."
Mimi, for her part, is just fine with leaving that subject alone, mostly because she doesn't know what actually happened. "Kitty, is there room in that shower? I'm in need of one myself!" she calls after the red-haired ECO.

"Oh…thank you by the way, Castor," comes from the shower just as it's turned on. "I really appreciate the gift." He'll know what Kitty's talking about. There's no more talking from her for a while as she enjoys her shower although she is busy worrying at the same time, getting the feeling that something's not being said by Leda as far as her brother goes. The shower is pretty short lived and ends in several minutes, that done to help conserve water, and she emerges, wrapped up in the towel she brought with her. "It's all yours, Mimi," she offers with a blushy grin that slips some as she sees Roubani's gone. "Frak, wanted to see about setting up a time to talk with him." She shakes her head and then smiles at Ivory. "Looking good."

Castor says, "See, sir, you look like a new man." He then winks at Mimi as he appreciates the work. He looks over at Kitty and he says, "Right, see, never doubt my powers again." He says with a small but teasing, "hmph!" He then looks over at Mimi and he does what he said he would do and so he moves to the door of the shower to keep anyone from getting in. Yup, Castor Leda, feeder of stomachs, provide of good will, procurer of ridiculous chocolate novelty bars with almonds, and guard at the shower door…wait the last one is new. He then is thankful Kitty didn't push the issue with her brother because he REALLY doesn't want to make her brother look bad.

"I appreciate your resounding approval, peanut gallery." Timon moves toward a nearby bin to dispose of his hair, brushing it out of his towel and into the metal can. The few strands that cling stubbornly to fabric he ignores, as he does the hair that doesn't actually make it into the trash. Hey: enlisted personnel exist for a reason. Brown eyes do their best not to look at the redhead as she emerges from the shower; instead, he extends a hand to his erstwhile barber. "Never actually caught your name. And I promised I'd shake when I was free, so." Cough.

"Thanks, Kitty." Mimi loses no time moving to take advantage of the fact, setting the borrowed scissors on the lip of one of the sinks and stooping to unlace her shoes with the swiftness of someone used to dressing in a big, big hurry. The shoes are undone and stepped out of in a jif, along with their accompanying socks, and she stands and goes to work on the rest of her clothes.
Timon's question interrupts her as she's stepping out of her jeans. She tucks them beneath one arm, unintentionally displaying what might be the only pair of floral-print panties on board. "Oh, sorry… Marissa Delann. Or just Mimi." She accepts the offered hand. "And actually, I only know your callsign, Ivory. Is there something else I could call you?"

Stepping up to Castor, still entowled, Kitty smiles and shakes her head. "I never doubted you for a moment, Leda. Not for one second. I was just surprised that you could find it that quickly." Mimi should know what she's talking about - the chocolate bar - as it was something they discussed while she was with them at the gym. Timon's voicing of his appreciation gets a wink and a kiss blown at him and to Mimi she simply says, "You're welcome."

Leda does his best not to look at Mimi undresses as he stands at his post by the door and he mostly succeeds…mostly, maybe he caught a quick glance and maybe he didn't but he is trying to be as professional as possible for Mimi. However, Leda does know that those are not in fact the only floral-print panties on the Kharon, no, he isn't a perv, yes, he has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of who owns what on this ship and he has to make trades and scrounge things somehow. After all, he did find two matching sets for Captain Legacy - which made women's underwear his business - well - that and a few slapped faces and a few offers. He then looks over at Kitty, "If could could find a tub I might be able to find you bubble bath…though I don't think we have a tub on ship." He then looks at Timon and he admires the haircut as it is a good look.

"Stathis. Timon Stathis." Pronounced TIE-mun STAY-this. Timon's hand is smooth and clammy — the skin of somebody who hasn't done a day's worth of labor in his life, no doubt. His grip isn't as tight as one might expect from a pilot; one pump and he's done, fingers slipping back into the pocket of his trousers as his ears flush a majestic shade of crimson. He really hadn't been trying to observe — but hey, the human eye is biologically drawn to color. All of a sudden there's something absurdly interesting about the mirror behind Mimi, to which he now goes — taking the long way, of course, to avoid the woman who's just blown a kiss his way. While wearing a towel. And nothing else.

"It's nice to meet you, Timon," Mimi replies with a warm smile. Which turns just a hair impish at the sight of his ears. "But I'll make sure I'm dressed next time we talk," she adds teasingly, and goes back to her task. She's undressed and in the shower in another minute. "Thank you again, Tinman."

Kitty blinks and then hmms, the thought of actually getting a bath something too good to pass up. "Maybe Roubani can make a tub out of something or another," she utters under her breath, a gleam now in her eyes. "Tell you what, Castor. You manage to get the bubble bath and help me to convince Poet to jury rig a tub for us…me…and I'll be forever in your debt." She looks at Timon and Mimi then, a brow lofted for as long as she does. "I think we should work on getting those two together. What do you think…"

Leda for his part just stands be the door to the shower and he calls in, "My pleasure." He then looks over at Kitty and then to Timon and back to Kitty, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Kitters?" He then says, "A tub for us?" He then looks at Kitty and he says, "Nah, she is too sweet." He then says, "She needs a nice guy. Someone respectable…" He then says, "You know, someone, like me." He then adds, "Hey, and you are forever in my debt for the chocolate or is this another frakking challenge?"

A short 'mmm' is all Timon has to say about that, staring into his reflected gaze to avoid seeing Mimi take off the rest of her clothes. What is it about women aboard this ship that makes them drop even their underwear with hardly a care in the world? Only when he's sure she's gone does he dare look away — to find that he's the subject of some nefarious plot. His eyebrows go up in time with Kitty's; then, very deliberately, with a wry smile he does his damnedest to keep off his face: "I appreciate your concern, Crybaby, but — well, I'm already spoken for." And now his deadpan expression breaks. "I guess that means I'm respectable enough, Leda, no?" And with that he makes for the nearest shower, its curtain singing closed before he so much as removes his sweats.

"For us to use as individuals, you know…" Clearing her throat, she looks up, trying not to blush. "You know?" Sniffing, she looks down at the deck and adds, "Well, maybe Martin and I could…and you and whomever you'd want to take one with…like a hot tub. Not naked!" She's digging herself in deep and it's only getting worse as Timon is now correcting her. "Wait…what?" She turns only to see him disappear into a shower of his own and she huffs, looking over her shoulder to the pilot. "Who is Timon with?"

Castor looks at Timon first, OH SNAP, did someone get told, yes, was it Castor, yes, OH SNAP! Leda keeps his post as Mimi showers and he looks over at Kitty, "Kitters, I'll see what I can do." He then says, "Though that is something that has to be built…and frankly it might be difficult." He doesn't say anything as Martin's name is mentioned because he has been told to let things run as they should and so he says, "And why would you say Timon gets hook up preference over me?" Granted he loves Epi, but the conversation with Thea seemed to indicate that he might need to let go or hang in and wait forever.

Kitty turns around completely, looking at him with a sad look on her face. "He doesn't, really. Castor…" Sighing, she goes to get her clothing from where she had taken them off and she gets dressed, not a single bit of her to be see until she's fully clothed again. "I know we've talked about your desires in a woman but I'll be frakked if I can think of a single woman who is like that. Seriously. All the women I know seem to be…too strong. Not that it is a bad thing to be strong. I just don't know who'd…" Sighing again, she steps up and goes to Castor a hug if she's allowed. "I just want you to be happy, Leda and I'm afraid of trying…and you winding up hurt or something because I frakked up."

Castor looks at Kitty and he hears the sigh and he doesn't look when Kitty gets changed he sort of sits there as he looks at the floor since Mimi is in the shower and Kitty is in her corner. He doesn't want to see Kitty naked since that would be like seeing your little sister naked, well, that and Pandorian would probably beat him with in an inch of his life given last night. He then looks back at the shower, "Well, Kitty, I think I like Mimi. I mean she is from Aquaria and she doesn't seem to know military life so well." He then says, "And I know…I know…I'm hard to find someone for…" He then hugs Kitty as she appears fully clothed, "Though what can I do?"

"I'll see what I can do," Kitty says softly. Her hair is dried and her socks and shoes put back on and then her things are gathered. "I care about you a lot, Castor. And I am going to do what I can to make sure you're happy. That is as important to me as knowing my brother's happy." In other words, it is one of the most important things to her, period. "I'll try to help." She looks around and then shakes her head, blushing. "Just hang in there, alright?"

Castor looks at Kitty for a moment and then he nods his head. Moments later a fully clothed Mimi slips out of the shower and quickly but silently makes her way out to the midshipman waiting for her. Castor nods ever so slightly to Mimi before he looks back at Kitty after she leaves, "I can wait." He offers, "Waiting is my only option." He says with a bit of help. Once the head clears he then looks at Kitty, "After you left your brother and I had a misunderstanding, I needed to know if you wanted nuts with your chocolate and he felt I was coming on to you and then called me over to no doubt whip my ass from one side of the ship to the other before I explained the situation. So a brief misunderstanding was all that happened. Don't talk to him about it. I don't want him to look like an ass." He then says to Kitty, "And he told me you like almonds in your chocolate." Does Castor pay attention, it would appear that he does indeed. "Anyway, that is all that happened."

"Gods…" Kitty laughs at the absurdity of it. "Pandorian is very protective of me. It's sweet and frustrating at the same time. He has moments where he's calm and things like that don't even seem to phase him and then he just goes off." She has her concerns over how it seems like his joining with the Marines has changed him in some regards but that's left alone although the worry might show on her face. "I'll talk to him, let him know you're alright, Castor." Kitty than shrugs. "Thanks for telling me."

"You don't need to talk to him. Apparently I impressed him by not calling MP's down on him for a misunderstanding. I mean, he said he liked me…" He then says, "Seriously, don't tell him we talked about this. I told him if we had another misunderstanding I'd go to you straight out before I went to the MP's since you'd kick his ass harder." He then smiles, "And you know, that wall of a man does care about you a great deal. For better or worse he loves you with everything he has."

Kitty reaches out to cup Castor's cheek, tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Castor. You're a very good man." The hand's lowered and she blushes, Kitty having done well to embarrass herself. "At the same time…you confuse me!" That has her laughing, the blush she had a few moments ago subsiding. "Thank you for being strong for me when I couldn't be strong for myself and thank you for being…you." Chuckling, she looks around and rolls her eyes, the fact that they're in the head getting her to do that. "Not exactly the perfect setting for this…"

Leda watches the tears first and then the laughter and he isn't sure what to do since this is like fire and water mixing, however, he takes this in stride as he says to Kitty, "I'm not a good man, I'm just a man." He says softly because he doesn't see Kitty as being embarrassed, "And I will always be strong for you…it is who I am." He then looks around the head, "Well, no one else is in here but us so this is the perfect place to be like this." He then reaches down to Kitty's face wiping away a stray tear, "And why do I confuse you?"

Startling slightly, she reaches up and helps, the last few errant tears brushed away hurriedly and then her fingers are brushed hastily over her shirt, dried within moments. "There. That's part of why I said you do. Saying you're not a good man like that. Are you just trying to brush off a compliment, Leda, or do you not see yourself in the same light I do?" A grin quirks the corner of her mouth and she shakes a finger, chastising him playfully. "Just remember one thing. I am always going to be here for you. No matter what."

Castor Leda has his demons deep down and they will forever prevent him from ever thinking he is a good man, though, in his mind Pollux, his dead brother was a good man and Leda spent years trying to live into that. Maybe some of it wore off on Leda. He then looks at Kitty, "Thank you." He says softly but appreciatively, "And thank you….it is good to know that there are those who feel about me as I feel about them." He then says, "And out of curiosity, was your brother always so awkward socially? I'm not saying he lacks social skills but I mean…common misunderstandings?"

Kitty laughs a bit. "My brother. He has had some difficulties socially. Made for some interesting times when we were children. It's probably a large part of why we got into so many fights." A sink is leaned against, Kitty placing her rump against its edge while letting her legs jut out slightly, sitting in a way. "I tried to help when I wasn't trying to beat him myself but I guess it didn't stick."

Leda says, "Well, he seems like good people." He then says, "And if you are related to him he must be good people." He then says, "You know what the funny thing is?" He then smiles darkly, heavily, as old memories flood back to him, "He reminds me of me. Pollux was always the stable one. He was the one with a plan. Me, I wanted to beat anyone that came across us or who had insulted my brother." He then says, "Well, if you need help, let me know, but he still cares for you deeply."

"That's pretty much it in a nutshell, I guess." Leda's smile is noticed and she nods; she has never asked him for details about his brother, the obvious pain when he does enough to keep her from doing so, but where she keeps the questions at bay she doesn't keep the compassion held back. "I know I care about him too. He's my everything."

Castor says in a rare moment of vulnerability, "Did I ever tell you about Pollux?" He ask curiously, "I mean….the whole story?" His words are soft, respectful, when he speaks of his brother it would seem that part of him seems to think his brother is alive in some way. He then says, "Then again you probably don't want the details."

Kitty shakes her head. "You have mentioned him but I never asked for details because I could tell it hurt you." There is a second of pause and then she reaches out, offering a hand for him to hold if he wishes. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to but I think it might help a little. And, in a way, it might help strengthen our bond at the same time."

Castor takes the hand because he needs it, "I was born as a twin, Pollux and Castor. Pollux was my elder by four minutes. My parents took us to an the prophets who said that one of us would die and one of us would live. The one who died would be dead but the one who lived would be a hero." He takes his time in telling this story, "So, as we were growing up, Pollux was the good guy. Me, I was the kid who was a world class frak up. I could never get anything right. Then my parents died like we talked about." He takes a moment to work through this all, "Pollux took care of me when we lived on the streets, he never cheated anyone. Me…not so much. Anyway, we struggled and a cop caught us. His name was Palmer and Palmer set us up in this home. Pollux got the idea of becoming a Fleet Officer because he saw a movie about the first cylon war when we were young. So, he went to college, became an officer and became a flight instructor, me, I frakked around in college and then I went to a special flight school. Now, here is where it gets sad. I saw my brother on a routine flight mission make a landing. His gear was off from a mechanical failure and he died in a fiery crash." Castor shakes his head, "The good brother died and the bad one lived."

Kitty gives Castor's hand a soft squeeze, a gentle reminder that she's here for him. When he tells her what happened she feels her heart begin to ache for him and she tries to tug him closer. "Don't think that way, Castor," she whispers, imploring him to not say that. "You're not bad. In fact, you sound a lot like me when I was a girl. Kind of rebellious and stuff but that doesn't make you a bad person." Her lips press together and then she adds, "Now I understand. This is why you don't believe."

Castor looks at Kitty and when his hand is squeezed he says, "I am not my brother." He then says, "Hell, if Pollux lived every bit of metal around us would be dead." He then says in the softest tones, "You are lucky, your brother is with you…and Kitty I mean that since family means something here." He then takes a moment to add, "and I am not the man my brother was."

"You're not supposed to be your brother, godsdamnit. You're not Pollux Junior. You're Castor. Striving to be like your brother is fine but striving to be him is not good. It's just going to set you up for hurt because it can't happen." Kitty's speaking softly, not wanting to come across as sounding angry or disappointed by mistake, but where she keeps her voice mostly neutral it still sounds sad. "You should be living to be yourself while honoring your brother, Castor." At the mention of how lucky she is she nods. "I know."

Leda looks in a mirror for a long minute before he says "I still think the wrong brother died." His reflection is a strange thing since his dead brothers face is the same as his own. He turns to Kitty, "I want to live for myself while honoring my brother but he keeps reminding me that I am now the hero since the prophecy is now focused on me."

Kitty blinks. "How does he remind you, Castor?" She hasn't let go of his hand yet and isn't about to now but the grip slackens some. "Castor, you have ghosts, don't you?" A hand comes up and she brushes fingers over his brow while her own becomes creased, a sign of confusion. "I think it's time that you're cleansed of the past, Castor Leda."

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