PWD #37: Grooming Rituals
Grooming Rituals
Summary: Interlude in the head. Personal grooming and occasional singing abound.
Date: 29/11/2012 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: The Colonial Navy Bellhop Service is referenced briefly.
Bennett Lennox Phin 
Head — Deck 2 — Battlestar Orion
The Head is the area on the Battlestar to find showers and bathrooms and this is one of many throughout the ship. Male and female crew members share the area equally as space is at a premium on fleet ships. There are half a dozen shower stalls and enclosed toilets as well as urinals along the wall. The room, an L shape dogleg, has the entrance open into the sink area. There are four sinks on the left and four on the right sitting back to back in the middle of the room.
Thu 29 November 2004 (PWD #37)

Lennox stands at the bank of sinks wrapped in a fluffy white towel. She's stood reaaaally close, face up to the mirror and a pair of tweezers in hand. Her hair's dry, save the root area, which is combed through with some kind of gel. "Ow." Pluck. "Ow."

Besides Lennox, the place is fairly quiet at this hour, though there appears to be at least one other shower going, and maybe there's a marine hunkered down in the back stall going his damnedest to complete a mission delivery.

Phin is also engaged in facial grooming. Shaving, in his case. Given that he's working a sharp object across his cheekbones he's pretty intent on the whole thing, so he's more or less tuned out the rest of the head. Until Lennox starts 'Ow'ing. That makes him pause. And turn his head, to see what exactly she's doing to herself. He's about half done at this point, so his face is half-foamed, half-not. "You need a medic down there?" he asks dryly.

"Ow." Lola mutters, yanking out another offending eyebrow hair. She presses a finger along her brow ridge, and leans in more to squint down the line toward the other Ensign. "Medics are all ham hands. I need a salon and a margarita." She rubs her eyebrow briefly, then tips back to check it out in the mirror. She tips her head from this side to that, checking the lines. "These things are unruly." So beauty and mystique. "How's it going down there?"

Phin winces when she yanks, and has to look away. "Well, you're outta luck. They don't know how to make a decent margarita on Virgon. Short list of things I miss about Scorpia, but they could do those things up right." He tilts his head a little to get to work on the other side of his face. "Haven't cut anything vital yet. Good day so far."

"You are not kidding. About either thing. I'd say any day that doesn't start or end with your blood in the basin is a good one." Lola reaches for a little zip up kit on the ledge of the soap dish, and pulls out a small squirt bottle of clear liquid. She smears it across the slightly reddened skin under her brow. "It's easier to shave and pluck other people. Less whining, usually." She seems to be finished with the hair yanking, because the tweezers go away. "I know we kind of met the other day, but um…" She turns her head to look at Phin.

Bennett arrives from the Aft Corridor.

"Words to live by," Phin drawls. As much as one can drawl while shaving. He tries not to move his lower jaw all that much while talking. "Though I've never plucked anything, personally. So I'll have to take your word for it. Sounds kind of painful." He turns his head toward Lennox again. He's mostly done. Just his upper lip left. But that's an area he apparently doesn't feel comfortable talking while razoring. "It's…double Ls?" That's what he can immediately summon to mind. "Sorry. The one who helped out with that civvie dude's luggage. Phin McBride." The last name, theoretically, belongs to him.

The head is fairly quiet at this hour. Someone's got a shower going, the odd stall is occupied, but there's elbow room at the sinks and more free space than usual. Phin's in the latter stages of shaving not far from Lennox, who's finishing up plucking her brows.

The sound of laughter trickles into the Head from the adjoining corridor, and a sweats-clad crew member slips inside. She turns and calls out a 'good night!' over her shoulder, then pads for the showers with a smile still playing about the corners of her lips. Trainers, and a duffle slung across one shoulder suggest she's returning from a trip to the gym.

Since Lola knows she isn't Phin McBride, she'll go ahead and take that as a re-introduction. "Right," she says, just like she remembers that's his name. "Lola Lennox." Proudly, she enunciates her double L's. "Good to meet you again, Phin. This time, I'll remember. That's the first time anybody's ever handed me their baggage." There's a little smirk at that, and she turns back her to her mirror (just in time to see Bennett wander by in her sweats). "Captain…" The greeting trails off just a little, thinking. Saint something. Saint… something. St. Croix? "St. Clair." It's 50/50 shot.

"I'll remember yours, too. It's got a built in mnemonic device and everything. Yeah. That guy was a trip. I didn't know they let you take that much shit onboard. Might be different rules for civilians, though." Phin's about to return to shaving, but the sound of laughter makes him turn his head. On this face he draws a complete blank, but he does manage a polite, "Sir." Which can't possibly be wrong.

"Evening, Ms. Lennox," tosses back the sweats-clad pilot with a wink. She's about to slip right past and head for the showers, but the unfamiliar young man conversing with Lola halts her departure. Blue eyes slide toward the tattoo, take the scenic route toward his non-existent rank pins, then return to his face. "I'm Bennett." A smile, curious. "And you are?"

Phin is dressed in off-duty Colonial Fleet fatigues minus the outer shirt. A dark brown tank top covers a gray sleeveless T-shirt, with a pair of silver hexagonal dogtags dangling from a chain around her neck. The T-shirt is tucked into a pair of olive green trousers, the legs of which are bloused into the top of black combat boots. A subdued black web belt is worn around the waist.

Lola flashes a welcoming smile to Bennett as the Captain returns her greeting. It remains as she glances over to Phin at the mention of of a mnemonic device. She may or may not know what that means. Maybe she's thinking on the possibilities. "I don't know what was in that bag, but I didn't think I was going to make it." She picks up a watch to check the time, and then drops it into her bag again. "Are the workout facilities nice here?" She passes by Bennett and Phin, and a whiff of cosmetic bleach might be had. Roots are done, so she's headed for the showers.

"Ensign Phin McBride, sir," the young man in question re-reintroduces himself. "Pleasure." He still has shaving cream on his upper lip. He crooks a slight grin at Lennox. "Rocks, maybe. Didn't he say he was a geologist or something?" Shrug. "Maybe he's like…a mining specialist? Or whatever's useful for whatever it is we'll be doing out there." He can't help but sniff some when he catches the scent of bleach. He might look a little puzzled. It's clearly not a thing that's part of his grooming regimen.

Bennett sniffs once or twice as Lennox passes her by. Is that.. bleach? "Well, they have a pretty fancy elliptical trainer, but I.. really, I prefer to keep it simple and stick with jogging the track. And I'm a wuss." She drops her duffle on one of the benches opposite the showers, and starts rifling through it for a towel. Shoes come off, and two fingers yank out her ponytail elastic, sending dark, tangled hair sliding across one shoulder. "What do you do around here, Phin?" she asks without turning around. Still rifling for that towel.

"Treadmill's good enough for me, since there'll be no trail running up here." She disappears into a stall. Fwwwssshhhh goes the shower as Lennox opens the pipe. She must have left some shampoo in there, because she doesn't emerge to grab anything from the sink. The shower runs for a few moments before the moderate volume of some kind of show tune is audible over the spray. It's a lucky thing she can carry a tune.

"They've got a pool," Phin puts in over his shoulder. In the athletic facility's favor. "And equipment for Pyramid, though I don't think you can get a full-size court without clearing the area around the hoop some." He turns his attention back to the mirror, carefully setting the razor along his upper lip. He manages to get the job done without maiming himself. He turns on the faucet, letting the water run for a second so it warms a little. "Not much just yet, sir. Just reported in a week and change ago. If you're asking about my billet, though, I'm a pilot. CAG assigned me to fly with the Lucky Strikes." Viper boy, then. As Lennox gets her show tune going his head bobs a little. And his brow furrows, like he vaguely knows the song and is trying to place it.

Viper boy, indeed. Bennett gives a soft chuckle, but doesn't join in on the tune. "Well, I'm sure we'll see one another in briefing soon enough," she remarks. Towel finally procured, she digs out a bottle of shampoo as well, and heads for the showers.

The shower spray in Lennox's stall shuts off, but she doesn't emerge just yet. The singing gets softer, candy-sweet scent of floral shampoo fading with the steam from the spray. "I didn't get to meet the CAG yet." A moment later, she steps out from her rinse with her towel once again in place, water beaded over her shoulders and arms. She smells like coconuts this time, a much more palatable scent than bleach. "Finally got my stuff settled, though. Sent some to storage, all that. There a good bar around here?" Lennox heads over to the sink, once again passing Phin. "I have a really nice leather strop if you need one." She's referring to the razor, of course.

Phin does manage to place the song, apparently, because he joins in the singing on Lennox's last chorus. Not particularly loud, but it's an echo-y sort of place. His voice isn't bad. Notes exist, and he hits them. He probably shouldn't be paid to do it professionally, but it's serviceable enough. It's at least just the last chorus. He chuckles. lowering his head into the sink and splashing his face. He looks himself over in the mirror and taps his cheeks with his palms. Done and done. His head turns when Lennox returns to the sink. And makes the leather strop comment. He chuckles, grinning. "I think I've got one of my own buried in my luggage somewhere." For the razor, of course. "But I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." He looks intrigued about the possibility of a good bar, but doesn't have an immediate answer.

"You're not the only one," answers Bennett in a slightly sing-song voice, to Lola's comment about the CAG. A moment or two later, she cranks on the faucet in her shower, with a soft hiss as the blast of chilly water hits her. Silence from her then, as she quickly lathers up, rinses off, and goes about the arduous task of washing her hair. It's likely she misses the comment about the bar.

Lennox taps the edge of the sink just next to Phin on her way by. "Not bad." She might be referring to the singing, but she doesn't say so exactly. She bellies up to her mirror, and takes a moment to moisturize. She lowers her voice and says, "Met the Captain," she nods toward the shower Bennett disappeared into. "She's a pretty nice lady. Didn't ask me about porn." The last bit is said very softly.

"Raptor captain?" Phin cranes his neck toward Bennett's shower, just to confirm that's who Lennox met. He nods, then turns back to the mirror and runs a comb through his hair a couple times. It's shaggier than might be the norm aboard but it still conforms to the grooming standard, so he doesn't spend much time on it. Another chuckle, this one rueful. "That, you remember." His grin crooks at the compliment to his singing, he assumes. "Did choir back in school. Could never quite make first string on the Pyramid team, and I needed extracurriculars. Mostly we just did depressing shit, but the director liked to annoy the Headmaster with uptempo stuff sometimes." As for the captain, "I haven't had a chance to meet many of the other bus drivers yet. Except another ensign who came aboard with my shipment. ECO named Apostolos. Into tech stuff. Seems like a cool guy."

Bennett isn't more than five or ten minutes in the shower. Some like to linger; others take the phrase 'navy shower' a little more literally. Pretty soon she's padding back out again, dressed in a fresh set of fatigues. Her head is ducked as she rubs the towel vigorously through her damp hair. Whatever Lola was singing, it's stuck in her head, too; the pair might catch a soft strain of it murmured under her breath as she heads for the bench with her duffle.

"It was memorable." Lennox fights a smile, but the dimple in her cheek reveals her struggle. She picks up a toothbrush and glances over after squeezing out some minty paste onto the bristles. "I have a thing for theatre. We broke out the up-tempo, high volume stuff when the director had a hangover." The amusements of choral and theatre people. "I'm looking forward to it. I really liked the group at the Academy." Her logic follows that the raptor section of the Wing here will be just as personable. Positive thinking. Her expression brightens as she catches Bennett's joining in on the tune. She glances over to Phin and gives her brows a tick.

"I went to an Ares school." Run by the priests, that is. Phin smirks. "So they required a lot of dirges about war and spears and shit. The music teacher they hired to run it wasn't one of the priests, though, so it was actually kind of fun sometimes. Compared to the other stuff, at least. Anyway. I like the Viper pilots I've met so far. One of the flight instructors I had back in training on Picon is actually a pilot here. Or part of the time I was on Picon. He split to join this mission when it first started eighteen months ago." He looks back toward Bennett. "You been here the whole time, sir? Got to admit, I can't wait to see what's really going on in his 'mining colony.'" Or whatever it is.

"What was memorable?" the captain asks, glancing over at Lennox from under a tangle of still-damp hair presently being combed out. It's slow work, but it gives her a chance to listen and observe the pair. Mention of Phin's flight instructor being a pilot on Orion causes her to quirk a brow slightly; it's possibly filed away for later. "Oh, no," she murmurs, "I just got here two.. three? days ago. I'm afraid I'm about as much in the dark as you are." Deftly, she begins gathering her hair up into a ponytail with a few swoops of long fingers. "You don't think it's something sinister, do you?" The smile briefly flickers to a grin.

Lennox disappears under the bank of sinks for a moment as she digs into a duffel that was stowed down there sometime earlier. "Music should e full of joy and attitude," is said from halfway under the sink. She shuffles some stuff around and then pulls out some sweats, and shimmies them on under her towel. It gaps a bit when she release the waistband at her hips, but the towel stays wrapped in place like magic. "Hm. Mining Colony." She mutters that, but doesn't say further on it. So many mutters around the ship lately, a person, particularly a new one who's already a little nervous about things, might start to wonder. Especially when Bennet asks that question. "Well, it wouldn't be." Sinister. Would it? She glances between Phin and Bennett, stood with a loose towel, sweat pants, and a tank top loose in her hand, yet to be pulled on.

"Uh." Phin totally doesn't answer the captain's first question. As for the colony, he shrugs. "I don't know about sinister, sir, but it has to be something less boring than that if we're getting double hazard pay for going. Not to mention how classified everything is. I'm thinking, with all the scientists, aboard, it's some high-security R&D installation or something. Testing stuff they won't let you test close to civilian areas. Or…something." He plainly has no idea. "I mean, I don't think it's anything sinister." He eyes Bennett. She's got more pins than him, maybe she knows something sinister he doesn't.

"Well, it was a rhetorical question, Lola," Bennett points out gently. She stuffs her damp towel into her duffel, zips it up, and begins the process of shoving her feet into her combat boots and lacing them up. The bench is used to prop the toe of her boot while she works. "No, I don't think it's anything sinister." The assertion is softly spoken, but firm. She switches boots. "Please don't tell the CAG, gods forbid anyone else, that I've been putting silly ideas in your heads." Blue eyes tick up, fixing on one ensign and then the other, pointedly. "All right?"

Lola looks at Phin when he brings up scientists and testing. There's a weight to her gaze, and the wheels are definitely turning. Inside her head, there's a thought rattling around, and that thought is very likely something along the lines of radiation and flesh eating bacteria. Nothing allowed close to civilian populations indeed. "Right." Right. Bennett's gentle verbal nudge snaps her out of any further rumination on the possibility of test sites. "Wouldn't do that, sir. Blue skies until proven otherwise, sir." She tugs on her top and drops the towel out from underneath it. She glances over at Phin. Ensign solidarity. That wasn't an eye-shift at all, promise.

Phin is more excited than paranoid, by all appearances. He winks at Bennett, nodding his head firmly. "You got it, Captain. Whatever's going on out there, a lot of the officers I've talked to from the last stint made it sound pretty quiet. Maybe the scientists get to have all the fun. Whatever the fun is." He exchanges a look with Lennox. Brows a little raised. Seemingly waiting for her to say…something. He might look a little relieved when she doesn't. Just might. "Anyway, I guess we'll figure it out soon enough. I should get going. D-CAG wants me to put in a frak-ton of sim time. I'll catch you all later."

Bennett chuckles softly. "Blue skies, indeed, Ms. Lennox." Laces fastened, she drops her left foot and grabs her duffle finally. "Well, from some of the conversation I overheard between a few of the civilians, the other night, on the observation deck.." The bag's hefted onto her shoulder. "They're definitely the ones having fun around here." She lifts her fingers to Phin. "Nice to meet you. I'm headed for my rack, myself."

Lola folds her towel neatly, matching the edges before rolling it three times. She perches that on the edge of the sink, and finishes up with her toothbrush. She runs the water to rinse it, and tucks that away into her toiletries bag. "Haven't met them either," she says, referring to the D-CAG. It should be an adventure, judging by recent comments. She nods to Bennett, "Sir." As the other two pilots pack up to take their leave, Lennox is left in the Head, stood beside the bank of sinks. "Night." The stall in the back rattles, but no one comes out. Lola gathers up her belongings and makes for the hatch.

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