PWD #46: Maenads and Chaplains
Maenads and Chaplains
Summary: Oh my! Both are topics on the Obvs Deck.
Date: 21/11/2012
Related Logs: None directly
Iphigenia Phin Thaddeus Theo 
Battlestar Orion — Deck 3 — Observation Deck
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.
November 21, 2004 (PWD #45)

The Observation Deck will be quieter once the Orion departs the 7th Fleet Anchorage — in part because there'll be nothing but, ahem, deep space, to look at. At dock, with new crew coming aboard daily, it's one of The Spots To Gawp At. The room has a steady, quiet thrum of conversation, many of the seats occupied with knots of people.

Taking up half a couch on his lonesome, the greedy Gemenese pig that he is, is Captain Kostopolous. Legs stretched out on the cushions, he sits with a large book opened in his lap and a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingers.

There are few people that would dare confront Captain Kostopolous when he's claimed a spot to park himself. Maybe it's respect for one's elders. Maybe it's some other reason. But either way, one of those few walks into the observation deck. Theo is off duty and dressed accordingly, and apparently has been out running the halls. He does that occasionally. His peacock tattoo is peeking out on his shoulder from the sleeveless shirt like some sort of colorful kilroy as he makes his way in. Spotting Thaddeus, he grins broadly and makes his way over. "Hello, sir. Did you hear? A-CAG assigned us dog watch in the Raptor."

Iphigenia arrives from the Fore Corridor.

Phin is in another corner of the obvs deck. Away from the Raptor captain who's commandeered the couch. Maybe it's an instinct of self-preservation. Whatever the case, it's a little more off in a corner, and he's got a pair of earbuds in so he can better tune out the many conversations going on around him. He's also in an off-duty tank and has a book or something-or-other open in his lap, which is more-or-less occupying his attention.

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.

That Thaddeus's face seems to relax into a frown, rather than a neutral or even friendly expression, doesn't help matters either. He blinks out of his wool-gathering at the sound of approaching footsteps, pale eyes focussing on Theo. He doesn't pull his legs off the couch, but he /does/ pull a pen out of the book and close it with a soft WHUMP. Priorities, you know. "/Nice/," is the sarcastic reply. "So he knows what you did," he adds, one corner of his mouth twisted up.

The Captain may not move his legs, but that doesn't mean Theo won't help himself to a seat. "I didn't do anything." He protests as he casually sits down on Thad's legs. "You're the one that was acting suspicious. I bet he thinks you did it." He looks about ready to add something when he spots Phin's arrival. "Oh, hey there!"

Iphigenia has visited the sick, heard confessions, offered counseling, and did her own meditating, praying, and ritual, at least for now. That's a pretty slack day by most people's reckonings, but the Lords of Kobol are demanding frakkers, and right now Geni just wants to plug in some earbuds and watch the stars go by. Maybe read a chapter or two or a book. That's the plan anyway, when she walks in. But what is it they say about plans? Right. Cylons have them. Or something. Smiles are offered to those who look her way, as she heads for a seat, close enough to be inclusive to conversation without stepping over into intrusive territory.

Phin at least vaguely notices he's being 'Oh, hey there!'d to. He looks up from his book - which he couldn't have been all that absorbed in - and pops out his headphones. Spotting Theo when he looks that way, he raises a hand to wave. "Hey," he offers to the other ensign, hefting out of his chair and striding in their direction. Thaddeus is offered a polite nod and cordial, "Sir." His own tattoo is visible with his arms bare. Those with some background in things theological would probably recognize it as a refrain from one the hymns of Ares. Though it's not one of the more 'ra ra war' bits, so it's not a particularly common one.

"/I/ didn't do anything," says Thaddeus to Theo, eyes narrowed at the Ensign as he refills his lungs with smoke. "And the security footage says so. But-" Here he grins, as wide as only false innocence can be, "-upside is, with the Ragman's gift, Petra gets a suspicion-free home." He /named/ the bobble-head? Oh, pilots. Pale eyes move on to Phin, then, and his chin lifts in a nod. "Ensign. Slacking while you can?" The Chaplain is spotted, too — and Theo given a swift sidelong look, directly after.

The ensign rolls his shoulders, almost flinching as if there were something uncomfortable in his shirt. He doesn't quite break out in hives and swell up like he's often claimed he would around priests, but he does frown. Which in and of itself is unusual. "You're an lousy liar, Dub, and I doubt he'll go to security footage." He says, deciding to ignore the chaplain. "Whichever of us it was, we're both being punished. Still. It won't be so bad. I got a pack of cards we can play while we kill time."

Iphigenia doesn't seem to mind being ignored; the spectrum of reaction to her presence in her experience is pretty wide. But as she kicks back in her comfy chair, Iphigenia flashes a smile the captain's way. "Good evening, Dub. Everyone." Her smile broadens at the mention of the bobbleheads, but she keeps her opinions of the occurrence close to her chest, so to speak. Her novel is cracked open but she doesn't really start to engage in reading just yet. It's one of those 'classics' guys have to groan through in high school and girls eat up with a spoon. It's all about pride and prejudice and sense and sensibility and that sort of thing.

Phin shifts a look between Thaddeus and Theo. It finally rests on Theo, brows arched. But he all he asks is, "Who's Petra?" To Thad, he answers with a shrug "Guess so, sir. I'd like to get planet-side another time or two before we disembark. The D-CAG mentioned something about climbing, but I couldn't tell if that was required or recreational." He does not flinch at the sight of the chaplain, for his part. Not that he's set foot in chapel since coming aboard recently, so whether he recognizes her at all is an open question. "Sir," he offers to her politely, when she greets Thaddeus. He does glance at her book with some curiosity.

Phin's own book is more stacato sentences and short stories about Leonis bullfights and stormy sea trips on Picon, but it's technically in the 'classics' genre if you're into post-Cylon-war modernism.

His ECO may get all a-bristle, but Thaddeus — believe it or not — actually has a faint smile for Iphigenia. "Sister," he greets her in kind, before his attention flits back to Phin and his question. "Ragman's gift. One of the bobble-heads you all got stuck with a couple nights back." A vague little gesture of his cigarette-bearing hand. He doesn't know all the details, you see. "Guess there was one left behind or something."

Theo? The ECO is quiet. Quiet and still from where he sits on Thaddeus' legs, looking anywhere but at the other officer. He shifts, as if preparing to get up.

"Ah, the bobbleheads." Iphigenia's posh accent is warmly toned. "I'd wondered at the culprit." She seems to find it all quite amusing, and noticing Phin's interest, holds out the dog-eared paperback to him. "It's a bit like the literary equivalent of comfort food." she tells the young man. "For me, at least." Theo's discomfort, if noticed, goes uncommented upon.

Phin's posture does tense when Thaddeus greets Iphigenia as 'Sister,' but it's at least a subtle thing. Hard to tell if it's bristling or extra-propriety. Or some combination of both. He does shift a look to Theo, before commenting on the bobbles. "You mean the maenads?" This to the ECO and Thaddeus both, and he can't help but grin. "That was a trip. I think that was only the second or third time I'd cracked into a cockpit, and there she was. Thought the joke was just one me until one of the guys going out for an orbital flight tried to rip his out with his bare hands." He shrugs at the chaplain and her book. "Whatever works, sir. The anchorage terminal has a bunch of cheap paperbacks of a lot of the classic stuff, if you're looking. I'd like to hit a real city again before we break orbit, though."

Thaddeus's poor sat-upon, slowly-falling-asleep legs. Finally, he twitches them, 'encouraging' Theo to stand up. "Fine, here," he mutters, rotating a little so his couch — /his/ couch, you hear — is generously, selflessly, and magnaminously shared. As he resettles himself, his eyes keep sliding back and forth between Theo and Phin. Each time, his eyebrows creep up a tiny bit higher. Finally, with a sigh and a lopsided half-grin: "Problem, ladies? I go to Chapel. I don't drag anyone else there by the short-and-curlies, I assure you."

Theo grunts at Thaddeus. "No problem at all." He says a touch flatly, and reaches for the nearest book to bury his nose in. He does look up at Phin, noting, "Better hurry. We've got two weeks and counting. Ragman is also increasing responsibilities to get people in top form, so you may not have time if you wait too long."

The book, having been held out in offering for Phin's perusal, is withdrawn back to Iphigenia's lap. She appears unruffled, and remarks with regard to her status with a simple, "I don't bite. Except during certain holidays sacred to Dionysus and Aphrodite." Her expression is so placid it may be difficult to tell if she's kidding."

Uh. Blink. Wince. Phin does not exactly relax his stance after that from Thaddeus. Though he tries not to cringe too much. He fails a little, but he tries. "I'm good, sir." His next shrug is a half-shoulder at Iphigenia, in a semi-apologetic sort of way. And then, in a semi-ham-handed attempt to play it off, "It's not like I have one of those hard-ons against Virgon manor lit or anything. It's fine if that's your thing. That one with the orphan chick who's into the dude with the crazy wife locked in his attic isn't half-bad." Not that admitting to having read that is really helpful in him recovering his dignity. Esepcially when the chaplain mentions biting. Umm. He looks at Theo. "Uh. Yeah. That's the impression I get. Not that I mind getting right into things. I don't think Major Wisdom's quite convinced I'm house-broken yet." Said wryly. It wounds his little ensign pride.

Thaddeus goes off to take care of some urgent business, leaving two ensigns alone with the chaplain. "Better than me. I think he figures I'm the one that planted the bobble-Maenads in the cockpits." Theo's massive ensign pride, apparently didn't take any injury. He looks the way Thaddeus left. "I mean. Clearly it was him." That lie blithely stated, he wrinkles his nose.

"I'm gratified you've validated my literary tastes, Ensign." Iphigenia's amusement increases; she's not really offended even if a bit of wryness creeps into her tone. "That's a rather enjoyable one, yes. Delightfully gothic." She merely mmms to Thaddeus' accusation regarding the bobbleheads and casts him a sidelong glance. Fibbing. Tsk. It's not terribly serious, but it could be, right? As serious as he wants to make it. She isn't.

"I'm gratified you've validated my literary tastes, Ensign." Iphigenia's amusement increases; she's not really offended even if a bit of wryness creeps into her tone. "That's a rather enjoyable one, yes. Delightfully gothic." She merely mmms to Theo's accusation regarding the bobbleheads and casts him a sidelong glance, then making no effort to hide her grin. NO JUDGING HERE, REALLY.

"I mean, I'm not saying I liked it," Phin goes on to justify his experience with the gothic romance genre far more than probably is necessary to Theo and the chaplain. "Just, it was part of a Classics course at the Academy, and it wasn't half-bad." He makes himself stop talking about this. His brows do arch at the other ensign about the bobble-heads. All, 'Did you?' Not that he asks. "Hey, I don't want to know. I don't want to get caught up in some kind of Viper-on-Raptor retaliation campaign. That's how all bloody civil wars start. Sad shit, man." He crooks a slight grin. Though he quickly adds, abashed, "Excuse me language, sir." He won't call her 'Sister,' but swearing in front of a chaplain apparently makes him flinch.

Theo scratches at his upper arm as if it were starting to itch. "Eh. It was just some harmless fun. Long, isolated cruise like this, you have to do what you can to improve moral and keep people cheerful." It's a lovely sentiment, but.. They haven't even left anchorage. Theo continues on, blithely ignoring that little fact. "The little bobbling Maenads were actually a compliment. You attended a religious school. You know what role they played in the worship of Dionysus. Fitting for Vipers, don't you think?" He then gets to his feet, "I think I'm breaking out in hives. Best go see if the sawbones can get me squared away. Later man!" He shoots the priest a quick look. "Sir." It's civil, and he doesn't wait for a reply, turning on heel and leaving poor Phin alone with the priestess.

Iphigenia chuckles a little. "I don't make a habit of finding casual cursing offensive." she says. "It's too much a part of the daily life of the Fleet to try and circumvent. and really, what's the point of getting distressed about it? They have the power you give them." Leaving it at that, she offers, "I'm Geni Arden." She talks to him like she's his rank, but then that's normal for a chaplain. She pronounces her name like 'Jenny'.

"The Fist was kind of short on Dionysus' raving, flesh-eating handmaidens, Peacock," Phin says wryly. "Would've been more fun with them, I assure. Anyway. No sweat, man. I thought it was funny. Whoever did it. I'm keeping mine. Later." He inclines his head to Iphigenia when she properly intros herself. "Ensign Phin McBride. Good to know you, sir." He seems to take some solace in being able to 'sir' her. It's a nice, secular form of respect to her rank that doesn't imply anything else. "I just came aboard when the battlestar docked. Starting my tour. Are you one of the officers who's been stationed on Pireaus for awhile? Got to admit, I'm still not sure what to expect, even after getting the intro briefing."

"I've been here a few months. And yes, it is a very remarkable - well, that's a word, isn't it? Assignment. It could determinedly be a very important tour, or a very dull one. Of course, 'may you live in interesting times is a curse, isn't it?" she observes, and ah's at mention of the Fist. "I've sat in on lectures by a few priests of Ares in my time. They tend to be very powerful speakers."

"I don't mind the idea of boredom…so much," Phin says. Unclear if he means it. "I've got a brother in the Marine detachment here, so I figure we were lucky to get the same assignment. I'm looking forward to it." That he certainly does mean. When she mentions Ares, his mood tenses again. He's still polite, but it's clearly not a subject he's enthused to talk about. He crosses his arms, which has the effect of making his tattoo a little less prominent. He seems to have just remembered it's visible. "Certainly can be, sir." A beat, as he searches for…pretty much any other topic. "Is this your first military assignment, or were you hitched somewhere before?"

"Second." she admits. "I was stationed aboard the Exemplia previously. You have a brother here as well?" That sparks her interest. "It sounds like you find that more of a comfort than a concern; that's good. You're…" she trails off eyeing him thoughtfully. "Air wing. What do you fly?"

"Yes, sir. Sergeant Bear McBride," Phin says, with no small amount of pride. The name wouldn't be familiar, but he might also be among the new personnel coming aboard at the anchorage. There's no shortage of them. "And I guess. We wanted to serve together, with him agreeing to go off to the middle of nowhere for the next two years. Give or take. And I'm a Viper pilot, sir." He grins as he says it. "Just finished my flight quals on Picon. What was the Exemplia like? She's an…escort carrier, yeah?"

"I had been pondering a feeling I've seen you before; if there's a family resemblance perhaps I saw your brother." she remarks, and muses thoughtfully. "That's a good question." she says brightly and after a moment's consideration, she admits, "The Exemplia felt bigger in a lot of ways even if it's not necessarily so in actual measurement. More room to breathe, but I think a battlestar has a much tighter sense of community."

Phin chuckles. "We're twins, sir, so maybe," he allows. Another shrug, about the size of the battlestar. "So far it seems big. Though I imagine that changes, once you get…acclimated. I'm still working on that." On that note. "I should probably get some rack time. If I'm late for my shift, it's still not much effort for the CAG to toss me back onto the anchorage. Nice meeting you, sir." He sounds like he mostly means it.

"A pleasure likewise Phin, or…perhaps there's another name you prefer I use?" she asks with a bright eyed smile.

"Phin works," said ensign says. "Later, Lieutenant." It's vaguely friendlier than 'sir'. Vaguely. Off he goes.

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