PWD #02: If Only This Novel Were Trashier
Log Title
Summary: Lola & Hadi. In the library. With the trash novels.
Date: 03/01/2013
Related Logs: None
Lennox Weatherbee 
The metal stacks of books start near the door and run the entire length of the room, which is almost forty meters. The room is twice as wide and there are several corridors that lead down the rows. Near the door is a desk clerk manned by a Crewman from Supply, but farther back, in the quiet of the room, are generally several other people milling about. Towards the rear are several seating areas with tables and chairs. There are sections covering a broad topics and individuals can also look at maps, rent videos, and even games.
January 3, 2005

In the back of the library is a reading area set up with tables and chairs. ENS Lola Lennox sits on the table itself, facing toward the door, with a book in her lap. It's folded open to somewhere near the front, maybe 60 pages into some story or the other. Her elbows are on her knees, body hunched over it, chin propped between her closed fists. Strands of long blonde hair fall forward, swaying gently as she blows out a breath.

Lola wears off-duties with a pair of hot pink flip flops on her feet. Her toenails are painted with a sparkle-pink varnish.

Booted footsteps pre-empt the appearance of a solitary man in off-duty gear. He's wearing standard footgear in black, nowhere near the pink of the room's other occupant. He emerges from between the stacks and glances left and then right, eyes landing heavily on Lennox for several seconds before moving onward. "Hey Pink, do you know if anything new came in via the last mail shuttle?"

Lola sits up as she's addressed by some… what is that? The blonde squints a little, looking over Weatherbee from head to toe. She takes a long, hard look. Hm. Marine, maybe? The internal debate wages for a moment before she answers, "Could be." She turns the page, though she isn't looking down at the book in her lap.

Hadi glances at the book in Lola's lap. "Guess I should have popped in sooner." He settles into a lean against the nearest metal stack, all angles and lean muscle. An air of Marine definitely exudes from him. "Is it any good?"

Lola drags a long braid across her shoulder, and twirls the ends of her hair around her finger, eyeballing the new arrival. She's only been on the ship since just after it departed the anchorage, so there's still a large portion of the crew that she's unfamiliar with. She takes a slow breath — yup, smells like marine. "Naw." She flips the page again. "Would be better if it was more trashy."

Lola thumps her thumbs lightly against the book. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I take it you haven't dived into the trashy romances yet, then." Hadi nods his chin to the right, "They're on that last stack, up on the top two shelves. Most of them are pretty well worn what with all the pilots taking turns reading them, but they're readable." He smiles ever-so-slightly and dips his chin, "Corporal Hadi Weatherbee, Colonial Marine Corps. Who are you?"

Lola rubs the back of her hand under her chin, and sweeps her legs off over the side of the table. Once swiveled, she scoots to the edge and drops down with a slap of rubber flip flips to her heels. "Hm." She looks over at Hadi once more, then turns to make her way down the indicated rack. Her voice calls back audibly from her crouch, fingers sweeping over the spines, "Funny how you know exactly where they are and what they look like, Hadi Weatherbee." Clunk, clunk, clunk. She drags a few books out and shoves them back against a loose section of metal shelf. "Lola Lennox."

Weatherbee doesn't follow immediately behind Lola, but he does follow after a couple of seconds, grinning to himself. "What can I say? I'm a reader. My tastes are broader than most." He stands a good ways back, giving the lady her space. "You aren't a Marine," he notes.

Thunk. Lola checks and replaces another book. There's a long silence while she reads some back covers, maybe checks out the bodice-rippy artwork. The raptor pilot takes a a seat cross-legged on the floor. Somewhere around the third book, she calls, "So, is Hadi like a family name?" She glances over to see he's pulled up closer. Oh. Right. When she talks again, her voice is more modulated. "Um… no. I'm so not a marine. So which one of these is any good?" A pile of trash novels is strewn across her lap.

"I've noticed a strange correlation between the size of the bosoms on the cover and the quality of the writing," offers Hadi helpfully. He snags one of the nearby chairs and takes a seat in it backwards. "Hadi is an old Tauron name. Is Lola Lennox your real name? Because I think I knew a dancer in Caprica City who went by the same…"

There's a soft intake of breath, a silence of approximately three seconds, and then: "Shut up, asshole. I was drunk off my hiney that night, and frak your mother." Lola picks up a book and hurls it at Hadi. The woman on the cover has really impressive bosoms, though that doesn't make the book heavier. It might give Hadi something to look at before he ducks or eats it. At least it's a paperback.

That done, Lola carries on like she didn't throw a book at some marine's face. "Is the writing better when the boobs are bigger?"

Weatherbee just manages to avoid getting the book straight to his face. Instead it wings off to the side. "Was that you? You're a good dancer." He reaches back and reclaims the thrown book from the floor, examining the bust on the front cover. "Ah yes. The Pirate Queen of Virgon. I remember you fondly." The book is set down on the nearby table and he asks, "See anything promising? You can't go wrong with pirates."

Lola doesn't comment further, hunching down over the stack of books in her lap. She might be a little pink-cheeked, seeing as the book-chuck was a reactionary type thing. Maybe she's a little embarrassed about throwing it. Maybe she's annoyed because she missed. "I don't know." She picks one up and puts the rest back. "There's this one here about a homicide detective and a writer posing as a hooker." Lola shoves off the floor to bounce up to a standing position. "So you're Tauron."

"Caprican," Hadi corrects. "I lived my whole life there, til the Corps." If she is pink-cheeked, he doesn't say anything. "Where are you from?… And what exactly brings you to this neck of the woods? It's a little out of the way for… dancers."

Lola lifts the back of her tanks and shoves the book down the back of her pants. She pulls the tanks down over it, hiding the top half of the book. She holds up the book in her hand, like maybe she'll smack him with it if he doesn't stop saying dancer. "Caprica City." That's where she was born and where she hails from, too. Caprica girl through and through. "I'm a pilot." She says that in an amused 'so you can call me sir' kinda way, without actually saying it. Haha, marine.

"Well, that was my first guess. A close second would have been some newbie deck hand who really wanted to get away from it all. Sir." Weatherbee picks up the book in front of him and starts to flip through the pages. "I'm from Caprica City, too. I haven't been back in a good long time, though." He smiles and stands, moving up to and past Lola to set the book back up on the shelf. "I think you'll be happy with your choice of books."

It figures — she'd run into someone from Caprica City, Caprica, and it'd be someone that was in that bar on that night. "I was underage back then, so you shouldn't think fondly on that pole dance." And the hell if she's getting caught checking out a trash novel. No way, no day. "I kind of like it when you call me sir." Heh heh. Usually, it makes her uncomfortable. A Cap city boy? Kinda novel. "I'll let you know what I think of that one." It better be a good book is the implication.

"I was a police officer back in Caprica City," Hadi notes with more than a little amusement. He manages to keep most of it out of his smile and half-turns away down the aisle. "If I recall correctly, I was there on business." He adds, as an afterthought, "See you around, Lola. Sir."

Lola spins around, halfway to the other end of the table. "Oh, gods." She lifts an arm to point at Hadi. "You looked at me dancing with cop eyes?" That's even worse. And so she says, "That's even worse."

"Just doin' my job, miss." Weatherbee snags a book off a different shelving section on his way down the aisle. "The Air Wing is full of temptations for a young lady officer such as yourself. Keep your nose clean, sir." He just used his cop voice. Oh my.

Lola takes a step back, like maybe that whole marine thing clashes with the whole cop thing, and she doesn't know how to reply to the authority in an enlisted's voice. "… Don't do that." The cop voice, it… it's just not right. "Don't… just." She shakes her head, backs up another step, then turns to flee.

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