AWD #256: Conversations Over Lunch
Conversations Over Lunch
Summary: Dogs, toasters, and banjos.
Date: 19/Sep/2013
Related Logs: Various in general, but nothing specific
Brina Toby Lleufer Devlin 
Mess Hall - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The Crew Mess on the Orion is one of the larger rooms meant for occupation. The room is far longer than it is wide with the classic stainless steel tables that can be seen anywhere else on the ship, standard to all navy ships. Most of the chairs match, their padding on the seats worn down after several years. Towards the rear of the room is the food prep area and serving lines. During the time in between meals the Mess will serve midrats, or 'mid-shift rations', such as sandwiches and drinks. Coffee pots are left to run at all hours to keep people going as needed.
AWD #256

There has been very little in the way of sightings of one Lance Corporal O'Connell who has been holed up working, and then working on the apology letters and then hiding somewhere when she should've been sleeping. By the time she realizes she's hungy and gets to the mess hall she's a zombie, complete with shuffling steps and everything. Sleep will be had later but right now? There's a line to get into and a tray with her name on it, the latter just waiting to be filled with food.

It's lunch time and the mess is heaving, there are a few spare seats here and there, but anyone pitching up in a group and hoping to sit together is going to be disapointed. Toby, having just grabbed a free seat next to a group of engineers, takes a tentative sip of his coffee before tucking into what is allegedly a 'pan fired steak'. A couple of mouthfuls in the engineers make to depart, and standard pleasantries are exchanged as the men leave. Then, well then it's back to his lunch.

Lleufer arrives, in uniform and on his duty shift as normal. But even so, there's 30 minutes alotted for him to come into the mess and get himself some chow before he returns to deskwork, patrols, or whatever the hell he's doing this afternoon. He grabs himself a tray and starts to move through the line, picking out choices. Meat course of chicken or simular fowl, mixed vegetables steamed, small cup of soup, bread with cheese, and fruit. Slowly bit by bit more and more is coming up from Piraeus below and you can bet, Lleu chooses the fresher foods whenever possible. A good deal of it is still reconstituted from dry but whatever. His gaze flicks up as he looks to where he'll sit, grabbing a tall iced tea with citris wedge.

Brina gets an amount of food to rival that of the Sarge, that thanks to having an appetite that can keep pace with most men despite her short stature. Not sure if Lleufer's seen her or not, she shrugs and falls in beside him, her expression held in check. "Mind if I join you, Sergeant," she asks quietly while scanning the room, her head angling to the side when she realizes just how busy it is. "Assuming we can find a place to sit together, of course."

Toby has his back to the servery and so almost misses the arrival of the MPs, it's only as Lleufer grabs his drink that he notices them out of the corner of his eye. There's a faintly amused smile as he watches as they 'team up' once more but then he turns back to his meal. Priorities after all.

Sergeant Ynyr gives Brina a nod, "Of course, O'Connell, please do join me." Lleufer looks her over, "You look like crap. You better get enough rest. I'm gonna work your ass off this week." He takes a seat where he can find two open, not at once noticing Toby at the same table. "Got approval this morning from HQ on the dog training. Tomorrow or this weekend we'll go down to see what we have to choose from and get you started." Lleu sets his tray and large drink down. "You better make any adjustments you need to fit a dog crate by your bunk. I don't have any kenneling facility arranged yet but I'll speak to Captain Ommanney and find out what we'll set up. Or it may stay with you. I'll handle the dog some of the time myself too but you'll be primary."

Brina follows along, her gaze attentively scanning the room. But even with the attention paid to where she is going she too doesn't notice Toby right away. "I'm going to sleep before shift," she promises while setting herself and her tray and glass down, the heaviness to how she moves more pronounced when she kind of just… slumps into the chair. At the mention of the dog she can't help but to beam, that being something she can't keep from blossoming even though she's exhausted. "I'll try to find a way to get that done, Sarge. Just hope no one else mi…" And now she notices Toby. "Hey, Shackleton. How are you?" She's friendly and even giving him a wave, a contrast to yesterday.

Toby pauses to take a drink as the marines take their seats. Not a surprising placement, given the options available, but at lease they didn't take the ones right across from him. That might have been, awkward. Intending to pay them no further head he sets his mug down and is about to return to inhailing his veg when he hears the comments about the dogs. Try as he might, and to be honest he doesn't try very hard, he can't stop himself from lifting his mug in vague salute to Lleufer, "glad to hear that Sergeant," then to Brina "not bad thanks O'Connell. You?" Yeah, he's a bad person and can't remember her first name.

Arriving in off-duty fatigues is a pleased sort of fellow. Smile already full on, the man strides through the door humming a little over-played tune from Checkpoint Charlies. A pocket book is tucked under one arm and he pauses at the entrance to the mess just long enough to get his bearings. Seeing the chow line, he makes a bead for it, grinning all the while. 'LTJG Durnst' is on the name stitch, and he's even had a pretty little bear patch sewn onto his shoulder. A friendly nod is given to those that meet his gaze until he arrives in line, then it's all business. Business with a smile of course, as he settles with heaping various oddities upon his plate and tray. "Ah, nothing but the finest for the boys and girls here," he exclaims to the cook in such a way that it seems genuine before turning and looking for a place to seat himself.

Ynyr begins to lay into his food. He's a hungry and a very physically active man with at least an hour every day set aside to hard workouts and phsyical thereapy for that left arm and leg. Not to mention patrols, battle exercises mixed alas with too much desk/paperwork. Lleufer listens as he shovels it in, wolfing his food down and used to not a lot of time to enjoy it. When his mouth is clear, he huffs a breath, "Doesn't matter if anyone else minds. It's MP business training a service animal. They'll get used to it or suck it up." He pins her a look, "It's not a pet, nor to be treated as such." The Sergeant gives Toby a nod, "Shackleton."

Brina watches Toby for signs that he might be mad at her for yesterday or holding a grudge when she was only trying to do her job. She relaxes however when he at least seems to be willing to be civil and her smile warms a bit more. "I am alright," even after all the stuff that transpired in the rec room, "but am in serious need of sleep." Or coffee. Damnit. She forgot to get some. Oh well. She needs to hit the rack soon anyhow so coffee probably is a bad idea. The line is glanced at and Devlin noticed, one of the faces she doesn't know. Lleufer's next addressed, her gaze holding to his even though it looks like she's losing the battle where keeping them open goes. "I will be sure to treat the dog as it should be treated, Sage," she vows.

Toby nods to Brina as she answers, although since he has his mouthful of potato he refrains from immediate comment. Food swallowed, another sip of hot, steamy coffee and he's aready forgotten, keeping instead to the topic that interests him more. "Any idea how long training is likely to take?" he asks the pair, "I mean, there's the basic stuff to do first right? Sit, stay, heal, and all that, but any idea how long before we might start working on the toaster finding skills?"

Devlin's gaze turns to the MP's and the Crewman and there's a moment of hesitation, though the smile never wavers. He seems to be contemplating something before a light shines in his eyes and he moves from the line after grabbing a large glass of orange drink. He walks in a most direct manner to put himself at the end of their table and he waits for a moment so as not to interupt, "Sirs, I'd like to turn myself in," he exclaims in a solid, almost apologetic voice. "I have been told that playing banjo is a crime against humanity, and I fear I just cannot stop."

Lleufer looks to Toby, "I don't know. Takes a few years to train a dog like that. Basics can be hammered out in a few months but a lot of ground work to be laid and build upon before you start fine tuning. And to be honest," Ynyr vaguely points a fork at Shackleton, "I've trained dogs before, but never a service animal. So we'll be doing research and looking for anyone with professional experience to consult as we are able. Every dog is different. Some catch on real fast, others … you need to be patient and not push too fast. Training horses is much the same way. Better to go slow at first and not screw up and have to back track." Horses he's more familiar with.

Brina looks up, the way Devlin addresses them getting her to pause in mid-bite. "Banjo playing, huh? Tsk." More than willing to play along with him. "Think that'll put you in the brig for a long time. Maybe forever, even." The bite of food is taken and the fork then used to motion to another chair, inviting him to join them. "But we can overlook it if you join us."

Toby eyes Devlin as he approaches. Any officer pitching up and calling the MPs 'sirs' is going to get his attention and he wonders just what is coming next before groaning slightly when it hits. "Don't mind him," he offers to the MPs, "Air Wing are all a bit nuts." Watching Lleufer a moment as the fork is waved at him, just in case, he then nods slowly. The word 'years' quite obviously deflates some of his enthusiasm, but some of that is picked up again when the next time frame referenced is 'months'. "I'm sure you'll do fine," he offers, getting ready to shovel food again, "there'll be someone about, if not here, then on Picon. We'll have 'em sniffing out those machines in no time."

"Maybe. If you mean skinjobs, biologically they aren't machines at all, which is a large part of the problem. Nothing at all machine like about'm except subtly different use of the brain. There's serious speculation that they might even be able to breed and produce offspring with us though there haven't been any yet, that we know of." Just let that shrival up Toby's balls at lunch. Ynyr can be such a bastard when he wants to be. His attention however is snagged by the new arrival. Lleufer looks him over, his own food almost finished, "No sir's at this table, sir. I -like- banjo myself. I'm Aerilon though." So, you know.

Devlin nods solemly at Brina's words, his head hanging for a moment before he lifts it with that big smile of amusement. "I had resigned myself to a lifetime of captivity, in a large metal cage with no exit, but then I realized I'm already on the Orion, so I suppose I'm already there. Signed up for a lifetime of captivity here." He nods his head and settles into the offered seat, sliding his tray in front of him. "Aerilon, well we won't hold that against you, I'm from Aquaria myself, frosty little place, but great in the summer. Devlin Durnst," he offers his name by way of greeting, "They ran out of trained bears, so here I am." He nods to Toby and Brina after.

"Bear, eh? As in ECO, backseat guy. Pleased to meet ye. Sergeant Lleufer Ynyr, MP." The hand is accepted as Lleu stands. A brief, firm shake with eye contact, then he's picking up his tray and empty glass. "Time for me to go piss my tea and get my ass back to work."

Brina catches enough of Toby's conversation with Lleufer to sour her mood a bit but while he makes her somewhat grumpy it does nothing to dampen her appetite. Good thing as shoveling in food keeps her from saying anything. Mention of Aquaria is also caught and she darts a look at Devlin, her eyes bright. "Hmmm frmmmph therrrth too," that being 'I'm from there too', said around a mouthful of food. Lleufer is given a wave and she hurries to swallow so she can say something else without being rude again. "Enjoy that piss, Sarge. See you later."

Toby gives Lleufer a long, hard look, the remains of his meal apparently forgetten entirely. "You are fraking, kidding me," he states, duely horrified at the mere thought of such a possibility. His expression hardens again as it sinks in and he manages to switch safely to Tauran before muttering, «free air lock tour for all toasters,» then, after a moment's pause, «and toaster fuckers». Yeah, the good mood he had been enjoying is now gone, as has his appetite, and all he wants to do now is go hit something repeatedly. Knox preferably, although one of the heavy bags in the gym will likely work as a substitute. He starts to pick up his tray at about the same time Lleufer does, and then grumbles about that too, before giving Brina and the new guy a brief nod in parting.

Ynyr has no idea what Toby's muttering and if he had thought it thorough, probably would have been wiser not to have mentioned it. Lleufer stands there with his tray in his hands, "Probably not possible from what we can tell so far. My point is they are almost identical to us, Shackleton, except for how they are programmed to think. Hell, YOU could be a skinjob and not even know it. So think about -that-." Sit on it and spin, boyo. The MP Sergeant gives the others a nod, "Get some rest, "O'Connell. Enjoy your mess, Banjoman."

Devlin nods and rises, exchanging hte greeting with a firm handshake until the others leave, offering the same to the Crewman, "Well, looks like this party is ending fast, I do hope that means I'm not going to be sent to the brig," he wonders aloud, then hums a tune as he settles back in. "Thanks, enjoy your shift, find some ne'er-do wells and get them all locked up, and such," Devlin tells Lleufer before pushing his food around with his fork and then settling in to eat.

"We will have to talk about Aquaria sometime soon, sir," Brina says hurriedly while the rest go, under the impression that he's having to go as well. She then gives everyone a wave as a whole. Her need for food has either been sated or she just not hungry anymore as she rises, scrapes what little food is left onher tray, and then sheg oes to sleep.

Fortunatly, by the time Lleufer starts implying that there's a chance that he could be a skinjob, Toby is out of earshot. The noise of the full room likely contributing largely to that. Ditching his tray he stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes his way out.

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