Works In Progress
Works In Progress
Summary: Cygnus comes to see Roubani. As usual the conversation is anything but direct, then Matto, Legacy, and Castaine show up for fun.
Date: PHD040
Related Logs: Handbaskets and Where They Go and Life, the Universe, and Everything

Kharon - Recovery Ward

Roubani is still lying in bed, this hardly being shocking or anything. Around the greatly immobile, braced cast, his other visible injuries are showing the very slow but sure signs of a little healing. The lighter bruises changing colours. Pinkening of new skin around the edges of some of his stitches. The heart monitor with its infernal beeping is gone, leaving the morpha and nutrient drip to work in silence.

There's really no telling what Roubani remembers of the night before when Cygnus heads into the recovery ward to sit with him. Of course, he has Pythagorus - his guitar - with him when he arrives. Clearly, it's Mac's intention to help banish the insitant beeping of that thrice damned heart monitor with sound once again. It's a very different man that approaches the Ensign's bedside. Calm in a way that he's never reflected before. The night had been one that held revelations for him, as if the act of talking about his more recent past had settled things into place in his mind and his heart. Pilot? Priest? It didn't matter anymore. He would end where the Gods will him to. For once, he's truly at peace with that knowledge. Quietly, he speaks, "How are you doing today, Mister Roubani?" He wouldn't be surprised if after last night, the poor man's mind was somewhat of a mess.

Roubani's eyes are closed as they so often are, which means little about whether he's awake or asleep behind the lids. The lack of irritating beeping does have one downside, and that's that you're left with nothing to focus on besides the fact that you hurt. And so, without opening his eyes, he speaks a sage and succinct answer. "Ow."

A wince of sympathy traces across Mac's face, not that Roubani can see it with his eyes closed as they are. "Is there anything I can get for you? Do to ease your mind at least, even if I can't ease your physical pain?"

"Wouldn't you think," Roubani continues to talk with his eyes closed, as surely he must know the voice already. "That sickbay might paint their ceilings with something to think about? Stars, or…a few thousand digits of pi, or…visual representations of what one went on about last night so they know whether or not to be horribly embarassed in front of the chaplain's aide right now? These would help, don't you think?"

"Wouldn't you think," Roubani continues to talk with his eyes closed, as surely he must know the voice already. "That sickbay might paint their ceilings with something to think about? Stars, or…a few thousand digits of pi, or…visual representations of what one went on about last night so they know whether or not to be horribly embarassed in front of the chaplain's aide right now? These would help, don't you think?"

"Don't be embarassed, Mister Roubani." In truth, after last night, Mac wishes he could call the Ensign something less formal. Poet, or his given name. Still, one thing he knows not to do, is push the pilot. Once again, he settles himself down on that stool his fingers stumming over the frets and strings to give accompaniment. Something for Roubani to focus on besides the pain. "Many things were said last night. Many… truths." Truth be told he wonders if Roubani remebers what came out about Cygnus. Wonders if being from Sagittaron, such a thing disgusts the younger man. "I hope… I sincerely hope my presence here doesn't disturb you."

"Actually, that was was incorrect," Roubani muses on his own words. "I remember exactly what everyone said, including me. What I don't remember is if anyone took offence. I didn't think so, but one would hardly call me a reliable judge." He moves his left hand, rubbing the index finger against the puffy skin underneath. Only one eyes squints open, regarding Cygnus at that last. "Should it?"

"There are some who it would. There are always people in the world who will dissaprove of those not quite like themselves, wouldn't you agree?" After all, how many people do not agree with the ways of the Sagittarons. "In an ideal world, prejudice would not exist. Unfortunately we haven't achieved that higher state as a species yet." A smile traces across Mac's lips as he speaks. "From my way of seeing the evening? No one truly took offense, Mister Roubani. If I had to speak for everyone? I think the general consensus would be that a good time was had by all. Even you. Even if some of it was suprising, only because you were far more uncensored than you usually are."

Roubani looks mildly relieved at the last part. Clearly it was important. To the first he shrugs, continuing to rub his eye carefully. "You didn't answer the exact question."

Cygnus has to chuckle at that. Roubani and his sometimes very literal nature. Mentally he parses the question and tries to answer it more directly. "I don't believe you should be. But, I am not you, and therefor cannot answer that question for you." There's a pause as he wonders if there's a deeper meaning to the words that were asked. "If you're asking, on a deeper level, if there's been any sort of ulterior motives to the friendship I feel towards you? The answer is wholeheartedly no. I'm not here out of any type of… attraction I feel for you, if that's what you're asking." Perhaps that's not what he's asking, but he puts that out there anyway. "My dealings with you, to my mind, have been of a strictly platonic nature."

The look at Cygnus turns into a slight squint as Roubani lets his hand rest down on his chest. "You worry about the oddest things."

"Maybe that's because you're a minefield I have to negotiate at times, my friend," The chuckle grows into a warm, rich laugh, though it's clear there's no derision to it, merely true amusement. "I like it though. Keeps me on my toes. So have I answered your question in the manner you've wanted me to?"

"I suppose," Roubani replies. "Though I can't bear to think what must have sparked all the rest of it. Do I strike you as so suspicious of you?"

Cygnus mulls the question over, giving it some measured thought before responding. "Perhaps a bit, but of most people. You're very guarded, Mister Roubani. There are walls you've built around yourself that I'm not sure anyone can breech or get inside of. I sometimes wonder if you'll ever let anyone inside of them. I felt it was best to be clear about my intentions from the get go.

"It hadn't occurred to me, really." Roubani picks at the hem of the blanket lying across his chest. "I don't always understand why everyone feels their trysts and titillations need to be explained at every curve, but I suppose it's human in some fashion. Have you said such a thing to a lot of people lately, or is it just me?"

There's a moment of thought applied to the question, "I think in a way, kind of?" That's what Mac's answer is, "Although not in such specific words. I think that Tin's picked up that when I joke about the 'not his type' thing, I'm not actually flirting with him." He feels compelled to add, "Part of it /is/ me though, Mister Roubani. I've spent my entire life not expressing who I truly am, for fear of reprisals over it. Suddenly? All of that is free and out there, and there's a learning curve on /my/ end as well. I worry what people are going to think. It's human nature. I mean, frak me, I don't even want to /think/ what Yuuri's going to think when the rumor mill gets to him. So yeah, on my end, I worry that people are going to look at me differently. That they might parse the things I say differently than they did yesterday. I don't know if that's making any sense, but I hope it does."

"It sounds like it's causing you more heartache than anything positive," Roubani says after a pause in which he literally tallies Cygnus' statements in his head.

Cygnus shakes his head at that, "No, not all really. I feel remarkably relieved to be honest. It's just a bit of finding my way around. Also," He has to admit the truth here, "I kind of never slept last night. There was that big endorphin rush from all the laughter, then Castor and I got to talking, and damned if we didn't talk to the night away." It had been a talk though in which Mac had realized some important things, "Then I had a meeting with the Padre. I expect he'll be by to see you as soon as he's able, by the way."

"You've done it again," Roubani murmurs, still picking at the blanket edge. "It was positive, -but-. Isn't there anything that doesn't have a downside?"

A blink. Another blink. Mac sees what Roubani is getting at. "Yes. There is plenty that doesn't have a downside. I have an amazing sister who I love more than anything in the world. There's no downside there." Truth. No one has ever once heard a single complaint from Cygnus about Mia, or his relationship with her. "Tin has become a truly wonderful and trusted friend." Again no downside. "I thought there were downsides to my being here, but I was mistaken. I merely… needed my eyes to open to realize that. I'm grateful to be here. Grateful to the Gods for saving me from what happened to so many, even if the path of that salvation was a hard road. I've been given a gift. I just needed the clarity to truly /understand/ that." Aha. That. That right there might be the explaination for the newfound calm that seems to have settled around the man. "It doesn't matter what temporal duty I perform. Cockpit? Pulpit? Neither matters, but that I fulfill the will of the Gods."

Roubani nods, finally looking from his hand and letting it go still. "Well," he remarks with quiet approval. "That's much better."

"And even if there's a minefield here and there?" A smile carves its way across Cygnus' lips in Roubani's direction. "There's no downsides to the friendship I feel towards you."

Roubani's eyes flicker as he considers that. "Well I'm glad for that. I would be most upset if you were sitting here when what you really wished to do was scream and run away, after all." That's totally deadpan, and it takes a second for the telling smirk of a half-joke to show.

"Brat," Mac teases, though there's a clear sparkle in his eyes, making it all too clear he's joking. "I have to admit though. You make me think." Here he starts to chuckle, "Nadiv Roubani, the great facilitator of mental agility. Like a gym. Just for the brain instead of the body."

Matto arrives from the Sickbay - Deck 2.
Matto has arrived.

Roubani briefly smirks at being called a brat. Like most of his expressions, it comes and goes in the time it takes to glimpse it. "Do you study maths, Marius?"

Roubani is, of course, lying in bed. Cygnus is sitting beside it.

"Honestly? I only ever studied what I had to. You know that whole creative brain/analytical brain thing?" There's a rueful chuckle now that gusts of Mac. And then he pauses. Blinks. He doesn't call too much attention to it, but he certainly hasn't missed the fact that Roubani, for the first time since he's known the man, just called Cygnus by his given name. Emotion rises a bit, and he has to a moment before speaking in order for it not to show in his voice, "I fear I have an abundance of the creative, and the analytical? Not so much so."

There is certainly no way, not in the way that Roubani's mind functions, that the use of the man's name was just some absent accident. But he doesn't at all acknowledge it. "There is a famous equation, one of the most beautiful in its utter simplicity. It is indeed so simple and so small that one might think it would be easy to glance at it and know its secrets. But the more one studies it, the more one finds that it links all things together in ways that we cannot even begin to fully comprehend. Someone said of it once: "It is absolutely paradoxical; we cannot understand it, and we don't know what it means, but we have proved it, and therefore we know it must be the truth." He pauses, lifting his chin to run his fingers along the underside. "Sometimes I'm given to think this is also the way we are, humans. Our behaviours, our wants and desires. We can prove our own feelings just by feeling them, even if we cannot understand or explain them. There's peace in that. I'd wish that for you."

Matto seems to have taken the proverbial one step closer to the razor, today, that scruff that usually coats his chin having disappeared elsewhere for today, at least. Uniformed to propriety, he stops by, only to find a math (?) lesson in progress, and linger back a ways, half listening.

Cygnus is gobsmacked into silence for a moment. But perhaps the seconds that stretch out that it takes to digest all the true emotions that accompany Nadiv's words deserves that silence. That respect of a span of time unmarred by the coarseness of words. After a time he replies quietly, "I wish that peace for you as well, my friend. I know I haven't been easy to deal with, and you have been… unerringly patient with me the entire time. You've supported me. Caused me to think. Helped to lead me by your words, and by your examples to the place I have come now. I am truly grateful for that," And here, finally does use Roubani's given for the first time, "Nadiv. You are truly a miracle and a blessing to every life that you touch."

Roubani replies with incredible gravitas. "And you, sir? Are a sap." This pronounced, he breaks the serious and smiles a little bit, then catches movement in his peripheral vision. It is unscruffy movement. Squint. "Lieutenant Matto?"

Matto steps forward when called. "Poetryslam. They learned you some damned good math where you grew up. All they ever taught me was how to cross-multiply," he gives a wink and that bright flash of a grin of his which many (though certainly not all) find so endearing. "Hey, guy," he adds in Cygnus' direction, the term applied liberally and affectionately.

The words that come next are quite sure to be quite shocking to anyone who knows Mac. "Priests are allowed to be saps. We deal in signs and the soul and human emotions." Waitasecond! Did he just call himself a /priest/? There's no time to linger over that though because he continues, "And you? Are still a /brat/," Cygnus chuckles out in reply, also breaking the seriousness of the moment. Thankfully Matto arrives. The Raptor driver has such a sunny disposition that surely now, the two of them can't remain too serious. "Kissbear, good to see you. Even /better/ to see you breathing, man!"

"So my sisters would often inform me," Roubani intones, at the second accusation of his brattiness. Did he notice the reference? Surely, but as with most things apparently he's going to take his time with it. "Kissybear. Yes, it's good to see your face back to normal colour. Are you feeling alright?"

Castaine arrives from the Sickbay - Deck 2.
Castaine has arrived.

"Better than alright, they put me on the nebulizer, I have the lungs of a five-year-old again," Kissy grins, stepping up alongside Cygnus' seat and draping an arm over his shoulders, much like he'd done to Thea in the same position the day before, "What can I say, I'm a total oxygen junkie, I can never kick the habit for too long."

"I'd frakking hope not! You need that air to like… live you know?" Cygnus clearly has no issue with the way Matto's draped himself over him. In fact. his playing even pauses for a moment as one hand reaches upwards to rest on the arm draping over his shoulders, in a sort of strange, recipricol hug. Physical affection is something he experiences so rarely, usually only when he and Mia are together.

"I hope this doesn't mean we can never joke again," Roubani says only half-seriously, curling his hand on his chest. It's the only part of him that really moves around, shattered right arm in its vault of plaster as it is. "I'm afraid the next time would be lethal. Granted, it would redefine dying happy."

Castaine enters the recovery ward silently, damn Marines and their stealth attacks. She's carrying a beat up wooden box and a leather bound book. She pauses on quiet feet to sweep a hazel gaze over the ward, taking in who is about. A smile filters briefly at the music coming from Mac's guitar. Quietly she heads for the gathered group of officer types. Sliding up on the other side of Cyg, she hip bumps him as she slides the box and book onto a side table. She doesn't speak, instead listening to the on going chatter of the men.

"Yeah, when I die I'm dying with a smile on my face," Kissy chuckles. "No, joking's fine, though Kittenface put me in my place for not having my inhaler with me," he smiles, and pulls the thing out of his pocket, "In case of rampant hilarity. Since the Lords know I gave up on the gym a long time ago."

Though Mia doesn't speak, Mac is a dutiful brother to the end, and he states quietly and simply, "I was wrong, and you were right." No explainations. Nothing more than the simple addmision that his sister is sure to understand. "And yes, please do keep that inhaler with you Kissy, cause while I'll be more than happy to save your soul? I really, /really/ don't want to have to say funeral rites for it!"

An inhaler. Something new to look at. Roubani's definitely not in the soaring-high daze he was in last night, though his edges are still somewhat dull. So that thing is pretty darn fascinating. "May I see it?"

Another smile twitches at Castaine's lips but she doesn't gloat. That would just be in poor taste though her brother /might/ deserve it. A bit. The inhaler gets her attention, a brow perked up in silent question. She half leans against Mac's chair but she's careful to stay out of the way of his arms as they move, playing still.

Matto turns his head to offer Castaine a grin as the hip bump jostles along through the priest as conduit enough for him to feel it on the other side. "Hey," he greets, then, leaning forward, he holds out the inhaler for Poetryslam to take. "Sure thing," he says, then snerks, wrinking up his nose a little at Cygnus, even if he's still grinning, "Hey, don't waste your woojie, Skypilot. I'm pretty much slated for Tartarus already."

Roubani sucks his teeth lightly at Matto, almost chiding. "And I suppose you've got your eternal punishment all picked out?" Ooh inhaler. He closes his hand around it and turns it over right up close to his face, squinting into the space between the plastic cover and the tube of medication. "Oh you could make so many things out of this!" His eyes flicker up, seeing Castaine for the first time even though she's been there a while. D'oh. Since his hand's around the inhaler he frees up his pinky to wave to her with.

Cygnus cocks a brow at the Skypilot moniker. It's oddly appropriate, and he certainly hasn't failed to notice Matto's propensity to give each person their own unique callsign. The World According to Kissybear. As he plays, his lips lift in a little smirk, indicating he's teasing as he intones in an all too serious and ominous voice, "It is never too late for the salvation of your immortal soul, my son." Okay. Now that just sounded downright funny coming out Mac. The fact that he's even joking in such a way attests to the fundamental paradigm shift he's seemed to undergo in the past twenty four hours. Gods only know what his sister is going to make of that right there.

Castaine's response is to tweak Mac's ear like any bratty sister might. There seems to be a lot she's been right about but she doesn't point this out. Matto is given a return smile and a little wave and truly it's a mart of her respect that she hasn't butted into the easy going conversation yet thus far.

Matto lifts his now-free hand to rub at the back of his head, peeking up toward Roubani, "I leave the formulation of punishment in proper measures ironic and symbolic to the Lords, Poetryslam," he grins impishly, "Oh, yeah. A million things. Including an inhaler, which I'd prefer it stayed, for the moment. When it's empty you can have it, and do what you like with it," he offers. "Oh, Gawds, don't use that voice," he turns to punch Cygnus in the shoulder, not hard enough to leave a mark or even to hurt.

Roubani can wait. Clearly the notion of being gifted with the husk of a depleted inhaler is quite exciting, as he opens his hand to relinquish it once the promise is made. "I return it whole and unmolested, sir Kissy, don't worry."

The smirk only grows now, and Mac suddenly adopts that butter wouldn't melt in his mouth tone he's so accomplished at, "Do that again, Kissy, and I may start to get the idea you've taken a shine to me." Naughty? Maybe. Just a little bit. A glance is shot over in Mia's direction. They may not have shared a womb. They may not have even shared the same biological parents, but somehow? Somehow despite all of that, they've developed that unspoken language and lexicon that only close siblings share. Because Cygnus knows, as if he can read her mind, exactly what's ticking through there. 'I was right. Yup. About soooo many things'. He can hear it clearly without her ever saying the words. "Sum of my parts, huh," He speaks in shorthand, which is likely to confuse the two others, but there it is.

Matto leans forward again to take, then zip the thing back into its alloted pocket. "I just never know what you're going to start taking apart, Poetryslam," he grins, then, turning toward the Skypilot again, "Huh?" Yeah, he's lost, now.

A full blown grin breaks out over Castaine's lips, warming that cool Marine exterior right on up. Still she remains quiet, a Heavenly feat to be sure. One hand rises, however, a finger tapping the end of her nose. Clearly he's right on the money. Hazel eyes dance as she regards her brother so steadily. Yes, they have that connection, one that can't be broken.

Legacy has arrived.

Roubani appears to be resting for a moment, Mac is once again playing his guitar and Castaine hasn't said a word. At least not with her lips, though it seems that she and Cygnus are having entire conversations without a whole lot of words. In fact, he gives his sister a mock scowl, though it's clear that he's not truly serious. The man appears remarkably at ease. At peace in a way that's seemed to elude him his entire time on the Kharon. Frankly? The aura suits him. Finally he pipes up, "Don't worry about it, Kissy. We're doing some freaky brother-sister zen mindswap thing. Or something."

Matto looks between the two, and then breaks out in a broad, beaming smile, clapping Cygnus on the shoulder, "Man, been there. No better place."

Castaine laughs softly and offers a helpless shrug. She can't explain this odd bond between herself and Mac anymore then he can and honestly, she doesn't poke at it too much. It just is and it's accepted. "It's a perfect place to be, sir" she finally offers, breaking her silence.

And in comes Thea, back in her off-duties. Her hair's damp, curling at the ends and down - looks like she just took a shower. She pads in, carrying file folders in one arm, though pauses at seeing the crowd. "Pike's going to have a litter of kittens," she comments with a grin. "If she comes in and fusses about the ward being turned into the social center on the ship, I'm hiding. Evening, everyone."

"That it is," Marius agrees. At the same time though? Suddenly he can't help himself and he just /has/ to dredge up the vestiges of the night before. Castaine had missed it, but she's about to get at least a small sampling right now. After all, Mac's among friends. Among family. "Of course, it's not so bad being in front of the 'stick' either." Innocent look? Yup it's right there on his face again.

Matto turns toward his Captain, looking— well, different, today. Absolutely clean-shaven, tidily put into a uniform, he almost looks military. If it wasn't for that sort of goofy, bright grin, the impishness around his eyes. "O Captain, My Captain," he greets her.

Castaine gives her head a shake as she looks over at Legacy. "I'm supervising, sir. The Major won't have kittens. Well. Maybe /one/ but that's safe enough to dodge around." She falls silent then, simply leaning against the chair, content for the moment to listen.

Legacy humphs quietly and leans in to ruffle Matto's hair lightly. "Alright," she tells Castaine, nodding once. "But if she comes out hell bent for leather, you'll find me under one of the beds. Her temper's fearsome." The Captain affects a shudder. "How's everyone feeling today? No new injuries or illnesses, I hope?" A pause and she looks over at Cygnus. "Prophet, darlin," she says dryly. "If I have to think about you and sticks one more time, I'm going to make like a pair of pruning shears and remove some twigs." Clearly, she's teasing. Mostly.

Matto leans into the headruffle, drawing back and turning to duck his head into it and shove forward like any one of the Black Cat's own kittens, despite his newfound modicum of spit and/or polish. "Oh, ow," he laughs at her comment.

"It's alright, I'm merely fulfilling my priestly duties," Mac's lower lip gets dragged between his teeth and chewed on to keep himself from bursting out laughing. "I'm not sure even the CeeMo can kick a preacher out of sickbay, can she?" Now there's a question if ever there was one. Thea's newly come into this mixture today and, yes, certain things seemed to have changed. Cygnus still considers himself a pilot. In spades. Just, perhaps the time has come to admit that he's more than simply that. A wink gets leveled at Cat. "Twig?" A snort. "Branch maybe…"

Roubani got shanghaied by a doctor that insisted on pulling the thin curtain to speak to the pilot. Once the cloth's drawn back again and the woman's gone, Roubani looks a touch less for the levity than before. But he draws his chin back up, and both his brows as he watches. Oh hey, new person. "Captain."

Castaine can't help but roll her eyes at Mac's comment. "Men and their LOFTY ideas of size' tumbles from her lips and from the look on her face she likely had /no/ idea she was speaking aloud until she hears her words burning her ears.

Thea lofts a brow at Cygnus and just shakes her head. She looks to Castaine and murmurs, quietly, "This is why not one of them can park a Raptor. Somehow this," she holds her fingers an inch apart. "Becomes six inches." Her fingers continue ruffling Matto's hair for a moment. "Evening Ensign," she says quietly. "I'm off duty, looks like you are, too. I found your visitors waiting for you."

Cygnus gets the impression that maybe… just maybe, now isn't the time to push his luck. After all, there's two man-eating women in the room. There's no way to keep from grinning at the idea. And the Lords know that his sister can hurt him in so many new and unsual ways. Even sans spleen, with her not nearly 100, Mac wouldn't stand a chance.

Matto waits on his hair to be well and truly mussed, snickering vaguely at Thea's joke at Cygnus' expense. "What's the good word?" he wonders of Roubani, since he had the chat with the doctor-type.

Castaine has the good grace to slap a hand over her mouth both to hide her laughter and to stop herself from inserting her foot a second time. She merely nods to the Captain, eyes watering as she /tries/ to hold it all in.

Roubani shakes his head slightly to Matto. Which either could mean no news, or that he doesn't want to talk about it. "Everyone got all quiet," he remarks, suspiciously. Especially when Castaine starts giggling. That's suspicious right thar.

Legacy chuckles softly and shakes her head. "Quiet isn't bad, Thumper," she murmurs. "Trust me on this. Especially given how drugged you've been of late. Have they backed you off the morpha a little? Your eyes are a bit more clear today."

Matto waves a hand, "The Captain just threatened to castrate the Skypilot. Then we all got sad," he explains. "Except for her," he jerks his head toward Castaine, "She thinks that'd be hie-lar-ious fun."

Castaine /so/ isn't giggling. Nope. Isn't. Wouldn't. Marines do not giggle. She's trying SO HARD not to giggle but damn that Kissybear! Maybe it's the bratty sister in her but finally she can't hold it in anymore as she gives into the …. yes.. the giggles.

Head-patting versus explanation. Roubani glances at Thea, then at Matto and smirks at the latter. "I'm sure. It ought to teach one not to have siblings with easy access to scalpels, I'd say." Then he nods slightly at Thea. "It feels like they did. I suppose after last night they couldn't stand it anymore."

One hand waves delicately and Thea steps away from Matto to find a chair, settling in. "You weren't too bad last night," she says quietly. "Though, they were thinking of calling the psyche when you told a nurse she tasted like tears and habaneros." A shoulder lifts delicately and she shares a grin with Castaine.

Cygnus' eyes roll heavenwards in a long suffering fashion, before they fix themselves on Mia. Then the tears and peppers come back up, and he barks out a laugh. How can he not? "Don't worry, my friend," Mac begins to tell Roubani, "At Cat's absolute /insistence/ we're assembling you a collection of all of our personal tips and tricks." He pauses a moment, "Though, you might not /want/ mine." A wink is sailed over in Poet's direction. Just to emphasize the point, he reaches into the pocket of his duty blouse and out comes a carefully folded piece of paper which is handed over to the Captain. "Far be it from me to ignore a direct order, Sir," And it's just so easy as you please. A thing of true beauty. What's the saying about revenge being a dish best served cold?

The comment from Rou only seems to make Castaine laugh all the harder. Oh, if only they knew how easily such a thing /could/ be accomplished they wouldn't joke but likely that's what she finds so damn amusing - that and the long suffering look Mac wears on his face for a moment or two there.

"Shame," Roubani tells Legacy, primly. "I think I was talking about Vendas." His eyes then flicker to Cygnus, watching the handover. "…tips and tricks?" He was distracted during that part.

Legacy takes the page from Cygnus, quirking a brow slightly. "That was rather quick, Prophet," she tells him. "Though, I don't know that I should be all that surprised." Yes, just a little twinkle in her eyes. Her head tilts as she peruses the sheet, lips twitching slightly. "Thumper, if you've been tasting the CAG, I think it's probably time for me to retire my brass."

"Oh, man. I completely forgot, sorry, Cap'n," Kissy reports. "Not that I have that much of any use to add," he goes on, shrugging up a shoulder.

"Well, Sir, you did give a definitive timeline of having to to you by this evening." Apparently Mac is following the order to the letter. Of course, it's vastly amusing to do. "And I wouldn't say it's short… just," A smirk creeps across his features, "succinct. I've heard that's often appreciated." Oh yes, he's definitely having fun with this, regardless of Cat's ripostes.

Roubani's question goes ignored. And it's about now that he's starting to tell that this is some inside joke at his expense. He looks down at the hem of his blanket on his chest, straightening it.

Legacy grins over at Matto and Cygnus, shaking her head exasperatedly before she turns to Roubani. "I gave homework last night, Thumper, to get everyone out of the Recovery Ward so you could sleep and Kissy could recover. I asked every person who was in here to write down a list of tips and tricks for the bedroom, so they could be put together in a chapbook." Cygnus gets The Eye. "Someone took me up on it."

Matto shuffles subtly behind the Captain to rest his chin on her shoulder and peek at Cygnus' homework with some idle curiosity. "Don't worry, I'm not going to copy your work," he assures the Skypilot.

Well frak. If there's any joke here, it's meant to be on Legacy not on Poet, and a frown sketches across Cygnus' brows. There's relief there when the Captain explains it, because it's truly meant with a good nature, and good humor at the moment. A swat back at Cat's swipes on all their collective, manhoods, so to speak. "Truely?" The comment is made in Roubani's direction, "I'm just trying to get the Captain's goat right now, my friend. It certainly wasn't meant to be at your expense in the least," There's complete sincerity in his words, proclaiming them to be true.

Roubani is quiet after Legacy explains, watching nothing. Quiet, quiet. It's not a mortified silence, or even a particularly uncomfortable quiet. Just one of those moments that's as though some unpleasant memory got sparked without permission. He clears his throat softly and nods to Cygnus. "Perhaps the Captain will keep it. Black berthings would surely get more use."

Legacy humphs quietly and folds the paper, tucking it away. "True," she tells Roubani. "It's not like Red doesn't have its own 24/7 show going on. I swear that I'm going to rename her Bunny and get Spider to sign off on it." And just like that, the subject is tucked aside.

"Tshyeah, right," Kissy laughs softly at Roubani's statement. "We are all woefully inexperienced across the corridor. We definitely need lessons from Red Squadron."

"Oh for frak's sake!" Cygnus has to laugh a bit now, because oh, the irony, "Are the priests on this boat the only ones who know what they're /doing/?" Clearly, the words are meant in a teasing manner. He's heard a thing or two about Ajax from here and there, and quite honestly? He's somewhat inclined to believe it.

Roubani seems very content to stay out of this berthing v berthing experiencefight. He smiles a little though, even if it doesn't quite touch his eyes right away.

That comment from Mac earns him a slap up along side the back of his head, in the style of all little sisters, of course. She gives him The Look (tm) but she says nothing else to it.

"Now now," she says, shaking her head. "None of that. Let's just say that Red and Black are equally experienced and leave it at that." Yep, Thea's back to Momma Cat mode. "I don't want to IMAGINE the competitions you all would get into, so I'm putting my foot down here and now." She leans back in her chair, just shaking her head. "Besides, we're all here to visit Poet. Not tire him out or send him screaming into the halls."

Matto was not, in fact, being sarcastic. Between his own record, Poppy's, and Flashknickers'? He can fairly confidently say that their berthing is less experienced. He chuckles, though, "Yessum," he replies, obedient. "I'm not getting into any frakking contests, at the very least."

"I'm fine, sir," Roubani says as to Thea's concerns. "I feel I should be monitoring this as closely as possible, so I can have the requisition in time to 3M for new earplugs."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Cygnus pipes up at the last. "I'm needed to assist the Padre with evening services." It would seem, that for Mac, duty calls.

Legacy chuckles softly and shakes her head. "I'll make sure you get a pair, Poet," she says softly. "Or three."

"Later, Skypilot," Kissy calls, standing up and off of Legacy, looking at her as though with something to say, but he stops himself before he says it and just looks back to Roubani instead. "How'd you get along this far without earplugs?"

Roubani raises his index finger to his nose. "I said new earplugs, didn't I. I could make a sculpture out of the old by now." Prepared, he is. And much more tired than he thought, for a few seconds after he answers Matto his eyes have drifted shut without his even noticing.

Legacy sketches a salute to Cygnus and looks to Roubani for a moment, smile soft. "Kiss, I think we should probably let him sleep."

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