AWD #421: Model Enlisted
Model Enlisted
Summary: Gloria and Niamh talk.
Date: 16/08/2016
Related Logs: None
Niamh Gloria 
Naval Enlisted Berthings - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
Housing a couple thousand naval personnel is never easy, but the fleet has managed for many decades. The enlisted barracks are divided up into sixty-bunk berthings and spread out across Deck Three. Each bunk has a small blue privacy curtain to keep out the light and prying eyes, but at least each individual has their own space. The drawers beneath each bunk and the lockers provide additional storage space. Between each stack of bunks is a single table that comprises a single section, each barracks holding five sections that are divided by thin bulkheads.
AWD #421

In that lull between the end of one shift and the beginning of the next, the bunks are reasonably quiet. Kind of like the calm between storms. Niamh is sitting cross-legged on her bunk, notepad open on her knee. She's clearly supposed to be going on shift soon since she's clad in her orange coveralls, her usually messy hair looking reasonably neat for a change, though that's probably because it's still damp from her shower and pulled back into a braid. She's not really paying attention to the people still coming and going, her entire concentration focused on her notepad and whatever it is she's drawing in there. Or writing, it's not possible to tell right off.

Gloria has just come off shift, and so has some free time before hse needs to hit her rack. By the look of things her first port of call has been the head, and now she's back, hair damp, and decked out in her off-duties. With so few people about she has the chance to nab a spot at one of the section tables and continue working on her scale model of fleet Battlestar. The hull looks largely complete, but there's still a fair amount of work to do on the engine area though, and thats where she starts working.

The Crewman barely twitches a muscle, her hand moving the pencil back and forth on the page, her brow furrowed in concentration. Occasionally she'll look up and let her eyes roam the bunks, but they don't really see anything in the here and now. Looking back down at her notebook, a small grimace touches her lips and something is erased, then redone. Apparently satisfied, Niamh finally pulls the page from the book and folds it up, putting it into a pocket seperate from her notebook before pushing to her feet and actually looking around. Spotting a vaguely familiar face, she heads toward Gloria's table, the beginnings of one of her habitually cheerful smiles touching her lips.

Gloria finishes gluing on a particularly finikity bit of engine cooling, then glances up as she notices Niamh's approach. "Hey," she greets quietly, there are some people asleep after all, "you need me to move any of my stuff?" It's taking up a chunk of the table, but there should still be some room available. "You're Deck right? Not engineering? Your new Chief settling in okay? Had to go ask her for some help yesterday and she seems decent enough."

"Oh no…" Niamh drops into a vacant chair, shaking her head slightly. "It's fine. I don't need the space, just thought I'd stop by and say hi. I go on shift soon and have to run by the Marine barracks before." Which means she'll probably be late. "Yeah, I'm Deck, and Chief is … she seems nice. I mean, she's different to what I'm used to, but I think that's okay." One shoulder lifts in a shrug and the Crewman gives a bright smile, turning her attention to the model being built, head tilting slightly as she studies it with a critical eye.

It's a kit model, rather than something Gloria is building from scratch, so the accuracy isn't too bad, all told. She sets it down for the moment though, to allow the freshly applied glue to dry, then looks across to Nimah. "Via the marines is it?" she asks with a mischevious grin, "found yourself a hulking corporal already? I tell you, I danced with one Lance on Saturnella, Mahoney I think his name was, well, he'd be welcome to drop by any time, if you know what I mean."

"What!?" Niamh blinks quickly, then blushes crimson and shakes her head rapidly, "N-no… no. Nothing like that." She looks down, her gloved hands run over her pockets, checking the fastenings three times each. "I uh, I don't think that's really allowed anyway, even if that was the case, which it isn't. I need to find one called Kapali to talk to her about a project I'm helping with, and I need to drop something with one of the MPs." Now she's definitely keeping her gaze fixed on the model, because studying it keeps her mind off of other things, she does laugh at Gloria's recounting of her Mahoney, though, and shakes her head slightly.

"Oh, trust me," Gloria replies, apparently highly amused by Nimah's reaction, "it's allowed. Happens all the time, trust me. You don't get a crew in a confined space for months or years on end without it happening. No one cares, well, as long as it isn't frat. And lets face it, if you're going with someone from across the hall, that's not frat. Can't be." She at that, then lets the matter drop, although only because she doens't know this 'Kapali' and so can't tease Niamh futher. "They've got you roped into project work already have they? Didn't waste much time did they. Hope it's a good one mind, you get some that are, but some suck."

"Well, it could be pretty amazing if it works out." Niamh happily drops the former subject and latches onto the less.. scarey one. "So do you build these models often? What do you do with them when they're done?" She runs the tip of her finger lightly over the frame work, being very careful not to press to hard, examining the structure intently, probably noting any faults. "If these could get made to a hundred percent accuracy they'd probably be really handy training tools." She muses this more to herself than Gloria as she leans forward in her chair, getting a closer look. "What is it you do again? I think you told me before, but I forgot. I'm not really good at remembering what people do."

"Sounds like a good one then," Gloria replies as she leans back in her chair, watching as Niamh reaches out ot the model. "Have done since I was a kid. My mum was with the fleet so we moved around a lot, it gave me something to do you know. When I'd done my schoolwork." Pointing back to her bunk she adds, "the ones I've finished are in there, or some of them anyway, the rest are in storage. I work with the brass up in CIC, keep track of the ship's DRADIS, run countermeansures if we're engaging basestars, and keep track of a few bits of project work that end up crossing my desk."

"Ah…" Niamh nods slowly, nudging the model with her finger, turning it slightly, to look at it from a different angle, again being careful not to dislodge anything. "That's right. I won't forget again. Do you like it? It seems some folks don't really like what they do, but they do it anyway. I'm glad I love what I do." There's a pause, followed by a rueful smile, "I'm also glad I'm not in charge of anything super important. I mean, taking care of the ships is super important, but all I have to do is go and do my job to the best of my ability and … I dunno. I just think it's alot of pressure to be in charge of stuff."

"It's not what I wanted to do," Gloria admits as she starts to cut the next bit free from it's sprig, "I always wanted to be an ECO. All the glamour of life in the wing, strutting about with my golden pins, being paid to get a college degree.. didn't work out though sadly. I do enjoy what I do though, definitely, although it can get intense at times, especially when we jump into combat."

Niamh grins at that and nods her head, "No kidding. Things get pretty intense on the Deck when that happens too." She laughs, then pushes to her feet. "I should probably get going though, because now I'm going to be late for shift and will probably get in trouble." Not that, that seems to bother the Tauran much as she gives Gloria a cheerful finger wiggle in farewell. "It'll be nice to see the finished product of that. Thanks for the chat." The clumsy Crewman actually manages to not walk into anything as she heads out.

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