AWD #074: Dirty Laundry
Dirty Laundry
Summary: It's talked about. And washed.
Date: 21/03/2013
Related Logs: None
Cole Tasha Iphigenia Phin 
Aboard a battlestar everyone except Command Staff does their own laundry, from ranking officers down to the lowest enlisted. This is one of many rooms just like this throughout the ship, and each one is nearly identical. There are baskets for holding clothes when they are pulled from the dryer and long tables for folding that run down the center of the room. Chairs sit along one wall and some magazines are stacked on a small book shelf near the door.
AWD #74

Laundry… wonderful thing… not really. Standing there in a old t-shirt and her underthings, Tasha is apparently doing every stich she owns save the last two pieces while waiting for the drier to finish… Typical really… Standing before Cole though, a cig dangles from her own lips after bumming one from Cole as they talk about working out trades or games of Triad for necessities that will come up short in the coming months…. (Set for new arrival)

Cole raises a finger as if to pause Tasha in her words. But instead of correcting her about his marital status, he just attempts to lightly bap her on the tip of her nose. "We'll call the first one free." He says lightly, before tucking his own cigarette back in his lips. Affecting a casual stance against the washing machine, he doesn't seem in any hurry to actually start his own loads.

Growing up on an estate with nannies and butlers and maids, Iphigenia Arden didn't ever do a stitch of her own laundry until she went to college. And even though she's now head a ship's department, apparently amongst the numerous (HA!) perks does not come 'someone else does your laundry'. She has her bag slung over her shoulder and a folding basket braced against one hip as she makes her way in.

Phin arrives from the Aft Corridor.

Eyes cross rather grotesquly or freakishly dependong on how you view such things while focusing on Cole's finger's descent before it touches upon her nose. Blinking after the fact with cigerette smoke trailing from her lips, Tasha can't help but shake her head fractionally and just grins around the cigg before more rich tobacco smoke into her lungs before both arms come up to cross under her breast, " Uhuh… A true drug dealer in the making here I see." With that, she turns slightly on the spot to the side and takes a step back towards the drier to check upon the status of her own load… thirty more minutes on the timmer … Sighing heavily, and stands back up from a crouch to look over hers houlder before her body follows through to take note of the newest arrival. " Heya… Wowa… it's a party…" She comments as yet more come in taking note of Phin's arrival as she suddenly becomes only slightly more self consciouse due to her lack of clothes outside of the t-shirt and under things while the rest gets washed.

As Tasha retreats, Cole reaches to the side and flips up the top of one of the washers with a clang. "I can't speak to that." Being a drug dealer. "But what I /can/ speak to, is that these will be in higher demand than both deodorant /and/ toothpaste when the time comes." At the entrance of Iphigenia, Cole's laundry is once more forgotten. "There she is." As if he expected her. Which he didn't, of course.

There's a hint of a smile on Gen's face as she walks in, increasing in width as she takes in Tasha's undress. "Lieutenant." she greets the blonde. Her gaze slips toward Cole, and the grin widens further, brows raising expressively. Her tone is likewise becoming increasingly more amused. "Captain." Phin is behind her, and as she heads for a washer, she doesn't notice him yet.

Phin is oblivious to other people at the moment, or whatever they are or aren't dealing or dressed like, as he makes his way through the hatch. He comes in wearing headphones, which are pumping something with a decent beat into his ears, from all the nodding along he's doing. He's carrying a duffel bag packed with laundry and a paperback. For reading material while it cycles, most likely.

Falling with her back to the dryer, Tasha obsrobs some of the residual heat from the machine into her back and shoulders with a contented sigh… The slow exhalation of air from parted lips accompanied by more smoke as the cigg begins to burn through and down, " Well I have some amazing bourbon set aside for when that time comes… Just keep it in mind." Arms recrossing lightly under her breast rather than leave them to hang at her sides, she tilts her head to the side amidst a sudden spill of of a few wisps of hair that escape the bindings holding the rest back in a poneytail at the back of her skull.

"Sir… Nice night for laundry services if you don't mind talking it yourself I suppose." Light and friendly, tasha's voice carries easily despite the cigg dangling between full lips. Shifting her gaze to Phin and his earbuds, her smile widens further in amusement before she shakes her head slightly, " The death of social interaction has always been technology or barring that a funky beat."

There is a languid step in Geni's direction. "When the Sister uses your rank, you know you're in trouble." He informs Tasha. One hand grabs the edge of Iphigenia's wash basket, using his grip to steer it out of his way. Without warning, he bends to kiss her full on the mouth, no doubt tasting of the cigarette he's currently smoking. "There she is." He repeats, slightly more quiet this time as he leans and baps his forehead against Geni's.

Iphigenia turns to offer a greeting to Phin when she suddenly has a mouth full of Cole. From the way she kisses him back, she doesn't seem to mind the cigarette taste, and her smile is less amused and more warm when he bumps foreheads. There's a faint air of surprise - she wasn't expecting him to do that. "Lieutenant McBride," she says finally, "However belated, congratulations on your promotion. And whenever you have a moment, stop by the chapel - I have your book ready."

Phin tosses his duffel bag on a free washing machine and then finally takes some notice of the other people here. Blink. Hey, people kissing. And other people not wearing pants. The of combination might've made him flee, but as it is he just makes a polite attempt not to stare. And starts dumping his clothes into the washer. He's not big on separating. Whether he caught the 'death of social interaction' thing is unclear, but he does pop out his earbuds. And offer general greetings. "Janitor, yo. Hey, homegirl." That latter to Tasha. Iphigenia's mention of his increased rank draws a slight grin. "Hey, Sister. Thanks. You, too. Captain Sister, that is. Oh, cool. I can get that later tonight. I'm on my off hours now."

With an intense buzzering, the drier behind Tasha suddenly goes off causing her to blink after starring at Cole's greeting with the Captain… A blush color's pale cheeks as Tasha runs a hand across her brow to brush the errant locks back over one ear, " Trouble is my middle name…" Uttered under her breath with a slight hint of amusment, she turns and begins pulling the still hot clothes out and tossing them into a basket unfolded along with the duffle used to bring them.

Bending at the hips into a crouch, Tasha fishes for a pair of shorts that she fans out before slipping on to pull up over her underthings and then rises to her feet. " Well… thats me alwright." She says to no one really while taking one final hit on the near stub of a smoke that dangles from her lip. removing it, she flicks the cherry free and ensures it's out before tucking the remainder behind one ear. Getting her basket and resting it against one hip, she then turns preparing to head out. " Take care Sirs… Time to go fold and press before duty." Dipping her chin in a node, the viper pilot makes her way past and out into the corridor to leave the others to their laundry room gossip.

Cole divests Iphigenia of her laundry basket, "Later, Trouble." Cole says to the departing Tasha as he totes the Sister's laundry basket for her. He sets it on top of one of the machines, but his chivalry ends there. He's still ignoring his /own/ laundry. Hopping up on a washer, he tucks his cigarette back in his lips. "I remember when he was just a lowly Ensign. Sniffle. Time sure flies."

"Excellent." Gen says to Phin, and flips up a washer so she can dig into her back and start carefully adding in her whites. "You know, Ari, Zach may have something to say if you show up at a briefing in dirty clothes." She can't help teasing him just a little bit. Bleach is pulled from her bag and poured into the correct compartment.

"Later," Phin offers to Tasha as she departs. He might smirk some when she puts on shorts before leaving. But mostly he's concentrating on adding detergent. Lid's flipped closed, cycle on. Cole gets a snort. "Yeah. The old, bygone days of…what? Two or three weeks ago? When we were young and innocent. Attrition, I guess." He chuckles some at Cole's expense. "Yeah, sir. Set a good example for your impressionable underlings. Think of all the bad habits I'm learning right now."

Cole lifts the fabric of his tank, giving it an experimental sniff. "This still has a good three days on it. Which is the equivalent of two CAPS or one enemy engagement." Clearly, he's thought this through. "And if you're going to immolate any of my bad habits, try to pick one more exciting than laundry, Max." With a little hop, he's off the washer and he goes through the motions of starting his own load.

Iphigenia laughs at the pair of them, even as she slams the lid shut on her first load and moves over to another machine. Colors now, mostly greens unsurprisingly, but there are a few flashes of other colors - purple, red, black, yellow. Her jaw works around her grin, as if she is indeed fighting the urge to tease Cole about more of his bad habits. Over her shoulder to Phin she asks, "Max?"

"Not going to take that off, are you, man?" Phin asks Cole when he does the tank-lifting. "I didn't know this was laundry-without-clothes day." His laundry is mostly of the Navy fatigues variety, so it probably won't suffer too much from being plunked altogether. As for the Max bit, he shrugs to the chaplain. "Max Power." He smirks. "Janitor's attempt to give me a new callsign. Never caught on, for some reason." His brows arch about what bad habits of Cole's he should copy. "Any tips on the interesting ones?"

"Back when they were still tossing around that idea of marking our birds as if we were from different squadrons and changing up the call signs of our pilots. Phin was my first volunteer. Hades. My only volunteer, I think." Seems Geni didn't catch the 'stuff it all in one load' disease that airwing seems to be a carrier of. Shove shove. "Uh. Lessee. I always take the biggest slice of cake. I never wear my seatbelt when driving surface vehicles." Cole names off a few.

"You snore." Iphigenia remarks off-handedly. No, she does her laundry properly. Once loaded up, she sets the washer running, turns, and hefts herself on top of it, watching the pair with all evidence of being thoroughly entertained.

"Never did much joyriding, did you?" Phin asks Cole, as to the seatbelt thing. "That one'll kill if you if you take a dodgey corner. Safety first. I think I could do the cake thing. Beats smoking or possibly throwing myself out a window." He assures the chaplain quickly, "I don't snore." He leans rather than sits on his chosen washing machine. "Yeah, I'd almost forgotten about that plan of the CAGs. I was never quite sure how he hoped to work it, truth be told, so maybe he decided it wasn't worth the hassle. Wanted to do my bit, though."

A waded up t-shirt gets lobbed Geni's way. "She must be talking about you, Dolly, because I sure as shit know she's not talking about me. And driving without your seatbelt is like driving full throttle. You don't do it to be safe. You do it for the thrill. I was a bit of a junkie back in the day." Cole nods some sort of agreement with Phin's assessment of that erstwhile plan.

It hits her smack in the chest and falls into her hands, at which times she hurls it right back at Cole. "Oh, he does." she says to Phin. "But you don't have to. Really."

Phin snorts at Cole. "And you lived to tell about it? I'll take your word for it. First time I drove a car was when I was like ten so…kind of figured out it was best to have something holding you in place in case of collision. I did not so much start out good." He shakes his head firmly at Iphigenia. "No plans to start, Sister. Oh. Meant to say. The temple down on Piraeus looks really nice. Can't believe how quick it came together."

The shirt is caught with a quick snatch of Cole's hand. Pays to have those fighter pilot reflexes, sometimes. "Oh. Uh." Janitor turns, stuffing the shirt into the washer with his other laundry. "Yeah, about that, Geni. Sorry I didn't…you know. Make it." Guilty Ari is feeling guilty. Because he certainly didn't show up at the ceremony. "Getting flight status back has been inconvenient."

"It's fine." Gen says to Cole gently, and it really is, before she adds, "I'd like you to come down with me and see it, sometime." Phin's compliment makes her brighten. "Oh, thank you. Amazing what we can do when we pulled together, yes? It's not as grand as what we're accustomed to, but because it's our own, I think to many it will mean more."

Phin doesn't ask about Cole's flight status. And he's long ago accepted the status quo of Holtz's fairly permanent SL-ship of the Vipers without comment. "Miss you out there, dude," he says simply. "Should've been on CAP this morning. I mean, it was just circling Piraeus, but you can't beat the view." He nods to the chaplain. "Grand's overrated. I like it. You can look at parts of it and remember what people did to put it together."

There is a noncommittal sort of nod from Cole when Geni mentions wanting to go down with him to tour it. "Like suffering the wrath of the local fauna just for chopping down a few trees." Ari says with a touch of returning mirth. "I gotta take a piss. Make sure no one throws a red sock in with my wash?" He asks the pair before moving to vacate.

"I remember that little thing getting the better of you." Gen grins, and absently nods to Cole's request before turning her attention more fully to Phin. "How is the Wing doing, generally? Or at least, the your squadron."

Phin is leaning against a washing machine, doing his laundry while chatting with Iphigenia and Cole. The latter of whom is moving to vacate. To Cole he says, "I'll guard your wash with my life, Janitor." To the chaplain, he shrugs. Like he's not sure how to answer that. "I don't know. I mean. OK, I guess. They're good people. Squadron and the rest of the Wing. Good group to fly with. There's been some attrition…" Death. And such. "…but we've gotten a few new from the survivors we've picked up from Picon and other places. And…y'know? You just deal with the rest, I guess."

Cole leaves, heading toward the Aft Corridor [AC].

"Indeed. It's our lives." Gen says easily enough. Once Cole's gone, she offers, "I thought I might pass your name to one of our priests of Aurora if felt like he could answer more specific questions for you, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Phin says thoughtfully. "Maybe after I read through the text you prepped. And thanks again for that, by the way. I don't know why it seems important now. I guess I'm just…I don't know. Trying to get my head around some stuff it seemed easier to ignore for a long time."

"The Lords of Kobol are a very real presence to me." Gen admits. "Even with all that's happened, I find comfort in their presence. And I think for many people it works one of two ways - it affirms their belief, draws them closer, even if by routes unexpected, or it drives them away."

"I still don't really know what I believe. Or what I want to believe," Phin says. "First priest I ever met said I'd been offered a path because the gods had a plan for me. Which…when a guy with a bunch of paintings of Ares and war on his wall says that, kind of not super-comforting." It's wry, half as a joke, and yet it's plainly something that's weighing on his mind these days.

"If you think about it, by virtue of te cycle of time, the Gods have a plan for all of us." Gen's tone turns wry. "Over and over again."

"If anything like what's going on now has happened before, that is a seriously messed up cycle," Phin says. Though he adds, "Sorry. Just like to think we've got some choice in it. To break it, y'know? I don't know some days, though, right now. It does kind of feel like I can see where this is going to end. I mean, every pilot on the ship, and everybody, really, could probably say that, I guess."

Iphigenia crosses her ankles as she perches atop the washer. "I think there is some room for free choice." she says. "But the grand scheme of things…yes. But I think I take a diffferent view; it means we've survived something similar to this," she gestures vaguely, "Many, many times, and will continue to do so."

"I guess when you look at people…yeah. I can see that. People don't change, really. They just survive and adapt, or not. Bigger picture would work about the same." Phin shrugs. Chewing that over in his head. "I think I'll hit the head for a bit. Make sure Janitor hasn't fallen in. Would you mind watching my stuff?"

Iphigenia laughs. "For as long as I can. I have places to be too, you know." But more seriously, "Please. Do look out for him."

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