PWD #25: Indiscretions
Summary: Ceres enlists Iphigenia's aid in her relationship problems with Aios…until Aios interrupts.
Date: 10/12/2012 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Ceres Iphigenia Aios Bennett 
Observation Deck - Battlestar Orion
The Obs Deck is one of the more quiet areas on the Orion where people can come to get away from the hustle and bustle that goes with of the rest of duty on the ship. The front of the room is a very large armored glass window to allow a dominating view of whatever is out ahead of the battlestar. Seats rise up at even levels, plush chairs and couches provided for the crew to relax in. During Condition One an armored plate is lowered down to cover the view and prevent the room from becoming a hazard and seal tight.
Dec 10, 2004

Curled up at the end of one of the couches, Ceres is staring out the viewport while chewing on her lip. Her gaze flickers occasionally around the room but more often then not she is zoned out staring into the blackness of space. A shoulder rolls back, lifting her arms to stretch. She pushes herself up, launching to her feet and beginning to pace. Its like unspent energy yet she looks exhausted. Moving back and forth, as if she's prepared to wear a whole into the obs deck floor, Redux is a bundle of nervse that only serves to give her ruffled appearance more of a look of desperation.

The obs deck is a regular hangout for Gen, in as much as she 'hangs out' anywhere. The view often helps her meditate, and keep herself centered. Also, it helps when she can curl up with one of her favorite old Virgon novels. One such novel is tucked under her arm as she makes her way in unobtrusively, not wanting to disturb other people present from their own pasttimes. Ceres' pacing is noted, but Gen isn't what one would call a pushy sort.

Gen doesn't need to be the pushy sort, not whent he Captain catches sight of her. Chaplain is in trouble. Her pacing stops, hesitating a moment before she commits herself to the action of crossing the distance towards the other woman. Faces are known even if not intimately. "Sir.." She greets faintly and waits to be addressed before asking. "Do you have a bit of spare time to speak?" The question is asked with a lofted brow, the viper jock looking a tad uncomfortable.

Iphigenia cocks her head, dark brows lifted in surprise. "Of course, Redux." The book is adjusted under her arm and given no further thought than that. Iphigenia is actually more eager to do her job than she is to take a break from it. "Shall we sit? I'm at your disposal."

Nervousness still eeks across her form and Ceres gives a stiff nod as she swallows. "Yes, thank you." She says faintly, moving to take a seat that is as near as she can get. "I hope I am not taking away from your personal time at all." There is a smile finally offered before she tries to calm her nerves by pressing her hands into her thighs.

"My personal time is mine to do with as I please." Gen says easily, and dismisses the concern with a wave of her hand. "You look…very troubled, and truth be told, my personal time would feel ill spent if I elected to be stand-offish." There's a faint smile; she wishes for a moment that they were in te chaplains' admin office so she could at least press some tea upon the anxious woman.

"Well, you are kind to offer me such assistance. I am grateful." A nod is given and Ceres hesitates, as if trying to find the right wording as she clears her throat. "Well, where to start." She says softly and after a long breath in, she tries to piece her nervousness into sentences. "I have been, seeing another of my peers here on the Orion since ten months ago. We started this assignment out eighteen months ago and found some comfort in each other. I enjoy his company…" Good, everything seems good so far. "But, he has some personal issues back on Caprica, a son, an ex wife who I have come to despise through his explanations. I thought this would help us, well help me really." Pause. Fingers play across her leg and she swallows. "I am not good with commitment, I can't do it. He wants more from me. He wants…something serious. I can't do it….is it wrong for me to do this to him? To ask him for something with no commitment? What can I do?"

Iphigenia does not answer right away, which may or may not be a good sign, except that for all intents and purposes, Gen seems to be seriously thinking about the problem. After a moment, she says, "Let me start by asking this: have you ever let him believe that you would be invested in a commitment, either by saying so, or through omission?"

Pausing, Ceres considers that in truth. Really gives a long hard look back, "No, at least I do not think so. We have become close but I have never given him any idea that there would be more. But then its never come up til now, at leat not in such a serious manner." She rubs her hand to the side of her neck, wetting her lips. "Sir…he's a good man, a wonderful man but I don't do ..commitment. He wants me to go to Caprica with him on leave. That to me is commitment to something more. I told him as much…well something like that."

"What about going on a leave with him to Caprica feels like commitment to you?" Gen's tone is patient, a bit curious, and sincerely invested in considering the problem.

Squirming uncomfortably at the next question, she bites her lip and closes her eyes. "His son. He wants me to meet Jamey." She admits finally, her unease obvious. "That is more of his life. It's like meeting his parents. That kid is going to look at me and expect something more than I can give. /He/ is going to expect more than I can give him. I don't work like that."

Iphigenia ah's. "The hopes of a child can be very potent, yes." Gen agrees. "Have you told him about your concern?" She's harboring a guess that Ceres hasn't, but the pilot may surprise her.

"Not of his son, no. But..I have told him that I wish it to stay uncomplicated, that I do not think its best I go to Caprica. I fear though, that I have hurt him and will continue to do so." Ceres draws a breath. "I do not care to do that, its worse than an idea of a commitment. I have been considering cutting off our relationship, bringing it to an end before it effects our work or I do something I can not repair."

"That is an option." Iphigenia conceeds. "And possibly a necessary one, but before you opt for doing so, may I ask you a very personal question?" Because what she's asking so far, that isn't very personal at all, right?

A nod is given, something perhaps near resignation in her dark eyes before Ceres lofts a brow. "Ummm sure." Hesitant despite agreeing to, Redux shifts in her seat a moment, sitting back to rub at her neck.

"Since taking up with him, how frequently have you slept with other people?" Gen's expression is completely without judgement…but that doesn't mean Ceres won't find it if she's looking for it where there is none.

Her face goes a little slack for a moment, hand lifting to rub at the back of her neck. "At the earlier stages of our relationship? A few." Ceres admits and then wets her lips, "Recently? Just him..really only him." Which is sort of enlightening to the Captain. She looks thoughtful a moment. "I nearly did a few days ago though, I think…the stress of becoming more to him was a little too much pressure." She draws a long breath, "I trust your ability to keep things to yourself." Pause. "Daniel Aios has become a good friend, a good companion and I really had no need to sleep with anyone else, to seek anyone else. I guess..there is comfort there. It's frightening."

There's the soft whisper of metal scraping over metal from the back of the room. Then comes the sound of wood brushing over fabric as the door to the observation deck opens. As if summoned by fate, Daniel Aios' face is the one that steps through. Far out of earshot of the two, he lifts his chin in the direction of the viewport to find the two of them deep in conversation. A polite smile is offered towards them…and then he promptly turns towards the small drink station to pour himself some water for tea.

"I'm obligated to keep your confidence unless it's a direct danger to the crew." Iphigenia assures, her tone not meant to carry past her and her conversation partner. "And I understand how the dark side of feeling safe comes with accompanying sensation of feeling vulnerable; the need to feel safe in and of itself can seem like a threat." Gen gets that thoughtful look on her face. "Let me propose something for you to think on, Redux? It's not commitment as such you're afraid of, but what the label of commitment brings. There's a difference, you understand? It changes how others see you, and how you see yourself. The act of committing, I don't think you fear that at all. There are many aspects of your life in which you are deeply committed." She gestures vaguely, as if taking in Ceres' life as an officer, as a pilot.

"You definitely have some things to think about, but in my opinion, I think the first thing you need to do is explain to him why you are troubled. About the expectations you're concerned you won't, or can't meet. If he cares for you, he may not like it, but he'll understand and apply some patience. And if he doesn't, then you know it's time to assess ending things." Unbidden, she reaches out, and if Ceres doesn't move away, Gen's hand is laid gently on her wrist. "If it turns to the latter, then let me remind you that ripping off the bandage is always better than a slow, painful pull. But I hope you find him open to your needs, as you seem to have been open to his."

Ceres may tense at the touch to her wrist, but she does not pull away. The words offered do make her frown and a sort of pensive look crosses Redux's face. A look not often found there. "Maybe…" Maybe. "Its odd having someone else look at me that way..I just. I never have been good with relationships, with the terms of the depth of them." But Aios is there, the grating sound enough to draw her head turning and spotting him. Tension doubles over and she drags a sharp breath and mutters only loud enough to be heard by the Chaplain, "Aphrodite's tits.."

"I will try to do as you ask." Because now? Now its over. She can't talk about this now. Awkward.

His side to them, still out of earshot, Daniel bobs a bag of tea into the ceramic mug emblazoned with the Colonial logo of the Battlestar Orion. He leans over the mug, reaching for a few other packets to prepare his drink. For the man, tea is a project more than a simplicity. Though things are never simple, are they? Daniel had to appear and mess up the whole deal.

Sensing eyes on his back, the blonde pilot looks down his shoulder towards Iphigenia and Ceres, and quietly salutes them with his mug. He won't approach, instead he opts to lean against the counter and light a cigarette, as if it's going to provide them with some sort of personal space. How little he knows.

Iphigenia offers Aios an easy smile of greeting, and remarks casually to Ceres, "They're rumored to be spectacular, or so I've heard. But while we're at it, a little offering to her might not hurt, either." She then perks, "Ah! Tea. Just the thing for me, I think." She looks back at the dark haired woman next to her. "Shall I leave you to your thoughts?" she offers with ease.

The lingering presence of Daniel is causing Ceres to clam up quite effecitvley. The jest from Iphigenia however earns her a smirk. "I will have to stop by the Chapel..its not a regular occurence on my part." She admits and then glances back to Aios, nodding to him finally to show she noticed him. "I…may just take a bit of leave myself, to be honest. I may need to take a walk and somewhere that is less congested." Pause. "Thank you, sir, for your help." She slowly rises, taking a step back and offering the Chaplain a nod.

Talkshow does his best to make it look as if he hasn't noticed, but more than one awkward glance has been cast in his direction, and the feeling that the conversation was a serious one cannot be ignored. Curiosity on his brow, he returns Ceres' nod with his own rather vague, shadowed one. To Iphigenia, whom he recognizes as the Chaplain, he lifts his cigarette to her in a little wave. His shoulders tense, suddenly feeling on display, and he turns to take his tea towards a nearby table. "I'm…not interrupting anything am I?" He asks politely to the two of them, his voice a rich, collegiate accent, much like Gaius Balthar's. "It's it any trouble I could leave. The two of you seemed comfortable."

"Not at all." Like Talkshow, Iphigenia's accent is also received pronunciation, and terribly posh. "I was actually just envying you your tea." Ceres gets an easy smile and a wave. "I think I'll make myself some, in fact." She rises to her feet.

"Not at all.." Ceres, if we are getting into accents is a bit more loose, Virgonese to the core. Her hand lifts, scratching at the base of her skull. "I was actually about to head out and get something to eat." She offers with a smile, easily slipping into something that is a bit more friendly. "The Chaplain and I were just speaking" Faith.

Daniel's brows lift as Ceres approaches, listening to her as she smiles to him. A wistful, awkward smile forms at the corner of his surly demeanor, and he picks up on the fact that she isn't interested in being followed. Bringing his thumb up, he scratches the side of his nose, right next to his eye. "Faith. Yes, well I do believe they were just about ready to start serving dinner at the mess. Some sort of stew." He offers the woman, wearing well that he can tell that something is wrong.

Biting his lip, he looks down to his tea and bobs the small bag into the water. He then turns to Iphigenia, casting a quiet smile towards her. "Leftenant Arden, it's been quite some time. Perhaps too long. I hope the gods won't take too much offense at my absence as of late?"

"You are never truly absent from them, if you think about it." Iphigenia replies merrily. She goes to the drink station and starts helping herself to a proper Virgon style tea. It gives Daniel time to decide if he wants to stick around or if he wants to chase after Ceres.

With Ceres shuffling off, Daniel looks back over in time to see the door to the Observation Deck close. It's as if his wingmate was a super-heroine dropping a smoke pellet and disappearing like a shadow. It's not a good sign, and as the thoughts rush through the man's brain, he chews the inside of his lip.

"Aye, my father once told me that all things are open under the eyes of Zeus, and that temple only serves as a place to send back. Our deeds are deeds regardless, and all are recorded." Daniel looks back to her, somehow managing to fight through the awkwardness to continue their polite conversation. He brings the tea to his lips for a small drink. "You'd like him, he has a very clinical view of the ties between man, law, and the gods. They gave us reason, it's our duty to carry forth that reason, that sort of flow."

"Sounds quite progressive, your father." Gen sips her tea and seems quite at ease despite the awkward turnabout. She strolls toward Aios' table and gestures in a may I? fashion. "At least in terms of theological perspective. "The gods help those who help themselves is a tenet hotly debated between the progressives and the traditionalists, when you consider the idea of all things having happened before, and all things happening again."

Daniel smiles softly, motioning for her to join him at the table he hasn't settled into yet either. Swallowing another sip of tea, he pulls out his own chair and settles in comfortably, though the tension on his brow reads that he is anything but. "Yes, yes my father is a bit of a progressive, so I guess I can't help but have the soul of one as well." He pauses, tilting his head just a little as he watches her from across the table. "When people help themselves in selfish ways, do you think that we can hide that ambition from the gods? That line between honest self-help and selfish ambition is something we play at so much as a species, isn't it?"

"Ah, but is that truly self-help, or self-harm? I think it would be fair to assume such behavior does not fall under the caveat." Iphigenia brightens. Oh, someone willing to debate such particulars with her is a welcome change! "What would he think of Piraeus, do you think?"

"My father, he would tell me that Piraeus is an example for us as a species to make the right choices. We've done what we will with twelve colonies that were dedicated to the lords and have conducted thousands of years of politics and war on them, and although war has its place amongst the gods, we have an opportunity on Piraeus." Daniel's lips curl into a smile, comforted by the ghost of his father's likely words in his head. It helps to calm him. "An opportunity for what is up to us, but starting with a military presence is…troubling. That's what he would say, Leftenant." He raises his eyes to her, gazing from over the rim of his mug. "What do you say about this all?"

"I think I'd agree with your father for the most point." she admits, "But I think the steak of me who marvels at the mysticism inherent in the temple wonders just a bit, if a thirteenth colony isn't a challenge in the face of the gods. And what the consequences of that. But mostly I think it's marvelous."

"I signed on for a second rotation out here because of this place." Talkshow's head nods a few times, one hand rising to motion in the direction of the massive viewport that overlooks Piraeus. "Another eighteen months, out here, just us and this mystery. It's like going into a temple down there, isn't it? It's an untouched world save for our presence; exciting and terrifying all at the same time."

The mug scrapes softly against the table as he sets it down, eyes downcast and filled with thought. "I'll admit…" He laughs softly under his breath. "…not that it's a detail I could hide from you. I've not been into your chapel often, but I'll admit that even before all of this I wasn't much of a sort to visit temple. This place, though, I find myself not wanting to leave."

Man, if Gen had a nickel for every person who felt compelled to tell her they're not much of a temple-goer? Well, she'd have a big bag of nickels. "I think temples are what we make of them." she agrees. "And the sky over your head can be a temple, if it's the right place. But I don't think I'm telling you anything you haven't realized for yourself. Which makes you the best kind of faithful, in my opinion. Which admittedly counts for little in the grand scheme things."

"In all honest, Leftenant, I try to not think much on the quality of my faith at all. Not to discredit what you do in any way, of course, but I'm comfortable with the free-fall. I would rather be judged by the gods for my actions as a man and as a mind that was given a chance at life without the element of self-interest or without the fear of death to force me to try to be what I think will win me a happy afterlife." Daniel's voice lowers just a tad, keeping their conversation quiet and personal, despite the fact that they're the only people present. His fingertip taps the rim of his mug while he watches the chaplain, a wistful smile returning to the corner of his lip.

"I've always admired you chaplains; the weights you carry." He adds, then bringing the cigarette to his lip.

"As it happens, that's not a crime, neither legal nor theological." she informs him with a delighted laugh. "You are again, perhaps the better for it. And I don't know," she says, "I love what I do, and I love what it can bring to others, but some of it can be quite predictable when it comes to my interactions with the crew. Very easily categorized." She sips her tea, quite comfortably chatting with Aios.

Were the only people present, up until about ten seconds ago. The interloper is a fatigues-clad officer, dark-haired, with a bundle of file folders tucked into the crook of an elbow. She carries what looks like a mug of tea in her left hand, and has a pen slid haphazardly through her messy bun. After a brief pause to orient herself, she heads roughly in the direction of the chaplain and unfamiliar crew member conversing across the room.

"Very easy categorized?" Daniel replies, tilting his head in a moment of curiosity. "I do imagine there are plenty of people that forget that Chaplains are more than the chapel, aye? All conversations about faith and emotions, and I imagine I'm more of the same?" He smirks, giving her a little shake of his head. "We'll have to compare journals on Piraeus, or at the very least continue this discussion some other day when I don't have CAP in…" He glances to his watch. "…a little over an hour."

Hearing the sound of boots over carpet, Daniel instinctively turns his head to the approaching form of Bennett. Raising his cigarette in a soft wave, he motions for her to join them. "I apologize but I was just preparing to make my exit, but if the Leftenant here…?" He motions to Iphigenia, offering to allow Bennett to cut in the dance, as it were.

Iphigenia lets out a little laugh, and waves him off. "Good go 'round, Talkshow. I'll" she says, and offers the new arrival a smile. "Captain," she greets affably at Bennett's arrival. She's also sipping tea, and adds with his wave off, "I'll offer categories next time we chat. You'll find them entertaining, I'm sure."

Bennett might actually have been angling for a seat nearby the pair, though she dutifully alters her course when Aios waves her over. "Good evening, sister." Blue eyes shift to the other Lieutenant. A pilot, presumably, given the mention of CAP. "..ah.." Hesitation where a name should be. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm Bennett, and you must be one of the Lucky Strikes." She favours him with a grin before leaning against the back of a comfy chair near Iphigenia, and sipping her tea while the pair make farewells.

"Aye, I'm Leftenant Aios. Callsign Talkshow. We might have passed once or twice, yes." Daniel replies to Bennett, offering her a shake of his hand. Bennett, you said? Pleased to meet you. I'm sorry I can't stay and talk long but when you see me next, feel free to grab me for a conversation. I've a CAP to tend to, and…a couple of other things first." A certain darkness returns to his features as he prepares to leave. He pushes his chair and nods to the two of them. "Ladies."

With that…he makes his exit.

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