PWD #34: Prairie Dog Holes
Prairie Dog Holes
Summary: Noble creates a new laundry room game. Plans are set for Triad night.
Date: 02/12/2012 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Noble Duke Andromeda Sera 
Aboard a battlestar everyone except Command Staff does their own laundry, from ranking officers down to the lowest enlisted. This is one of many rooms just like this throughout the ship, and each one is nearly identical. There are baskets for holding clothes when they are pulled from the dryer and long tables for folding that run down the center of the room. Chairs sit along one wall and some magazines are stacked on a small book shelf near the door.
December 12, 2012

No one ever said that doing laundry had to be boring. Of course, anyone who would have said so would have probably had access to some other form of entertainment, a means to escape, or enough wealth to find someone to monitor the laundry for them. For Simon Noble, a Coporal with the Colonial Marine Corps, absolutely none of those get-out-of-jail-free cards exist.

All alone in the laundry, the tall and red-headed marine has opened every top-loanding washing machine's lid and has moved to the corner of the room. With a trio of small, soft plastic pyramid balls, he's taking turns throwing the balls through the air in hope that they will land in the circular basin that clothes are usually dumped into. With a slightly annoyed smirk on his face, he raises his arms and lofts one of the balls through the air. It bounces off of the lid and rolls toward the door of the laundry…

Actually, yeah, it can be a pretty boring activity but when you are locked for so long in the sardine can, you don't want things smelling. Because bad smell…well. So to do his own Laundry, we find Richard Duke, stepping inside the room, carrying a bag over his shoulder, one that is promptly dropped on the floor when he leans down to catch the ball that is rolling towards him. He picks it up, tosses it up, just a couple feet away from his hand and takes it again, now looking around to see the owner. Given that at this particular time, Noble is the only other person here, finding the owner would not present a difficult task "Catch" says the man now, tossing the Pyramid ball towards the tall Marine. He grabs his bag and rests it on one of the table, now checking just /what/ machine he can use.

A small 'smack' resounds from the corner of the room when Noble catches the ball. Dressed in his off-duties and keeping it real, Simon takes in immedaitely from Duke's style of dress and bag of laundry that he's there as a regular human being and not there to push command. Because of this…Noble raises his arms, steadies them, and throws the ball across the room. This time there's a hollow 'thunk' sound as the ball finds paydirt and stays in the basin of the top-loading washer.

"Thanks." Noble takes one of the balls and plants it atop a table, motioning to it. "You want in, be my guest. This room's about as fun as the brig, ain't it?"

Duke is there to command the dutiful washing machines to do his laundry, wash wash wash. "You're welcome" offers the Viper Pilot now, opening his bag, starting to pull clothes to throw them into one of the empty baskets nearby. Then again, it's all about separating things right? At this moment, the man just looks as his stuff and shakes his head "I swear, only one cycle, put everything in and that's in…but no…they had to complicate things for people. Whites, colors, fabrics….what the frak" Now, he looks up at Noble and with a half smile he adds "My Pyramid skills goes as far as being able to throw a ball ahead of me, that's it" There is a bit of a chuckle there and then he pats on one of the machines "Mind if I use this one?" Then again, he does make a comment on the brig "You spend a lot of time sitting down, on both…so I would say you are right" Which means he was probably sent to the brig, at least once.

"Shit, man, you've been to the brig? Consider the offer revoked, convict." Noble smirks and then scoffs, lifting a shoulder towards him. "Whatever, man, it's cool. I'm just kidding. Pick whatever one you want. The one next to that one's a little shakey, though. I don't know if they got it repaired or not but it kinda chewed up one of my tanks a few days ago." Noble adds, taking another shot. This time, he tries to bank the ball off of the wall and into a washer, which fails. He starts to walk past Duke to go collect his spent ammunition.

"I'm Simon Noble, CMC. I spend a lot of time standing down. They don't give us chairs."

"Yeah, I had to cut an imaginary cellmate just for the reputation" says the man, showing amusement as he says this. Now, when Noble tells him that any of them is available, he just nods his head and starts dropping stuff into one of them, after doing the selection process, which is annoying. Really. When the other man introduces himself, Duke extends his hand for a shake and says "Richard Duke, Air-Wing" He smiles at this and then moves to another machine, dropping some more of his stuff. He closes both doors, sets the programs and kick-starts the cycles on both of them. He rubs both hands over his face as if trying to wake up and then shakes his head, blinking a couple times "They say that sitting down all day is bad for your health anyway"

Noble turns quickly after passing Duke and gives the pilot a firm, peace-time handshake accompanied with one of those flat, gentlemanly flat-lipped smiles. "Nice to meet you, Richard. Yeah, I've seen you around from time to time, but you know how the halls get. Everyone's two ships passing and all." He steps aside and tosses the soft-plastic pyramid ball through the air back in the direction he came. It sinks into one of the top-loader washing machines, and the tall marine gives himself a little fist-pump of victory. It's off-duty laundry time, and Noble is spending it playing improv games in the presence of Colonial brass. "So what's that like anyway? I always see you pilots carrying notebooks around everywhere. Is there some sort of constant study thing involved or are you guys just officers so everyone expects you to remember everything you're told?"

Sera, who is apparently not very much of a morning person despite spending the last decade and change in the military, shuffles into the laundry wearing her off-duties and vaguely dazed expression. One hand is wrapped firmly around her laundry bag, while the other is busy trying to rub the sleep from her eyes, palm pressing firmly into one eye socket. With both of them thus occupied, she doesn't have one free to cover her mouth as she yawns. Classy. There's a vague grunt of recognition aimed at Duke, which seems to be all het gets by way of greeting when Sera is trying to sleep off the night shift.

"These past 18 months have been chaotic, and I believe the next 18 will be pretty much the same." says Duke, nodding his head at this "It's pretty much what you say. I mean, you get to meet some folks here and there but then, basically speaking, you are locked down by areas I think" He shakes his head a little at this fact, not really finding it 'correct', but still. When he asks about the notebooks, he looks up and says "Flight logbook. Pretty much record every hour that you are out there flying. Every CAP, with who did you fly, status on the birds…things like that" He offers a faint smile and adds "It's just a way to know exactly what we did at what point. Then you mix that with your gun cameras and you have all the details you need to study and self-critique your own flying. At the beginning is a real pain, I remember when I started flight school and even knowing that my father had taught me the use of the logbook way before, it was still…a pain"

And now Sera is there. Duke looks at her and chuckles at that grunt, returning a "Grunt for you as well, Sera. Long night?" There is a sign of familiarity here, indeed.

Andromeda also arrives in the laundry, looking less than coherent. The corpsman is in off-duty duds, and has a bag of laundry slung over one shoulder. Apparently being exposed to flesh-liquefying whatever isn't a sufficient excuse to get out of doing her own laundry. Besides! The laundry seems like a good place to avoid the curious georges with their questions of what went on in the super-dramatic away mission.

With the addition of Sera and Andromeda, Noble turns to watch them enter. Friendly enough, he lifts one ball-carrying hand and waves to them. Wide awake and fighting his boredom, he bounces the ball against the floor and steps back over to his washing machine. He hops up onto it and throws another bank-shot towards the washer across from him. It misses and bounces off towards where the newcomers are. Noble curses under his breath.

"I guess that makes sense. I mean, at all different ranks there's always some kind of boring-ass paperwork that comes along with the territory, for good or for bad." He sighs, then looks over to Sera and Andromeda. "Did…the mess kill off the coffee feed again?"

"Got stuck on the balls to eight shift with the rest of the skeleton crew," Sera mumbles as she swings her bag up onto one of the tables, promptly yanking it open to dump out a heap of clothes — mostly civilian clothes, left over from their early departure from Seventh Anchorage. She begins sorting them carefully, separating her things into… eesh, what looks like it's going to be three loads. There's even a black dress in the mix, which she carefully tucks into a zippered mesh bag before tossing it onto the appropriate heap. Bit of cognitive dissonance there, given the amount of time the little grease monkey spends covered in engine oil and tylium fuel. "Swing shift ain't so bad, but man, slummin' the overnights is just totally goin' to frak with me all afternoon."

"At all points you get stuck with some sort of paperwork, there's no escaping from it" says Duke to Noble, just nodding his head. He rubs his hands together and leans against the washing machine, now letting the entire process run, knowing that it's going to take a while. His attention drifts towards Sera and offers "The night shifts in general are hell, it really does a number on everyone" Hell, he has done night shift CAPs, and those suck, big time. Specially when you are sitting in a Viper and can't frakking move. Now, Andromeda is the one he is looking at "Hey, heard you got stuck in the quarantine room for a bit?" Not that he is fully, fully aware of what happened in that ship, nope.

Andromeda's gear is apparently all work clothes. Although there is a flash of something red that gets shoved in a bag quickly. "I was kept locked in a room with the JTACCO and several marines that were afraid they were going to melt into goo." Andro says with a completely straight face. "Have you ever been locked up with a marine that things they're about to turn into goo? It's not fun." She catches the ball, and gives it a toss towards the 'goal'. She lifts her chin in silent acknowledgement of Duke's question, answering an affirmative.

The very moment that Duke mentions Andromeda having spent some time in quarantine, Noble takes a wide step to avoid being out of arm's reach. He lets out a little chuckle to let her know that he's just toying with her, but after he picks up his ball from the floor he opts to remain out of kicking distance. "Godsdamn I love swing shift, because then I sleep past the morning rush and I get the entire night to myself. I keep getting nabbed for graves myself, though, so I feel your pain." He plants the ball down onto the machine near Sera, motioning for her to take a throw.

"So…for, you know, curiosity's sake, what does make a marine think that he's going to get turned into goo?" Simon heads straight on into the five hundred pound gorilla in the room. Really, who could pass it up. "I don't like being locked up with marines period, shit I live in a bunkhouse filled with the dogs, but this I've got to know."

Sera blinks down at the ball, staring at it for a second like she needs a minute to process what to do with the damned thing. Yeah. Apparently, she doesn't do so well when she's freshly awake and as yet uncaffeinated. "Uhhhh, did I miss the rules of the game or somethin'?," she asks a bit stupidly, before cramming her first load into a machine and hip-checking the door shut. And then, with a flick of her eyes towards Andromeda, she simply asks, "Which Marine?". Not 'why goo fears?', but 'who was freaked?'.

This whole 'goo' conversation? Duke stays away from it, at least for the time being. In the meantime, he just takes his bag and folds it, for no apparent reason. His own laundry being washed right now as the machines make loud, pretty ugly noises. "Someone definitely needs to fix those thing" mutters the Pilot to himself before looking at Sera and then at Andromeda, amused by the idea of learning who was freaked out. "And you weren't, Jones? Freaked out I mean." He presses his lips together and nods "Very brave of you" adds the man now, obviously joking of course.

"Frak if I know." That to Simon with a shrug of one shoulder, and a curious once-over. "So y' gunna be one o' m' boys, eh?" Her deep backwater Aerilion accent begins to slip through, sign of her own exhausted state. "PO2 Andromeda Jones, Navy Corpsman." And with a snort to acknowledge his kidding-but-not-really distance, she lifts her chin in greeting. "Eh. Just about all o' 'm." She then eyes Duke, as if attempting to figure out if he's mocking her or not as she throws her gear into a machine. "Freakin' out don't solve nothin', aye? Been in worst spots w' t' CMC."

"I'm just throwing 'em. No points. No money. No competiton." Simon Noble replies to Sera. As if on queue, he takes up the ball that Andromeda just threw into a washer, holds it over his head, and throws it over the rest of the group towards one of the unoccupied washers. There's a small squeaking noise as it bounces off of the washing machine, flying towards the back of Sera's head. "Oh SH— look out miss…" Simon gets out, suddenly looking away as if it'll clear him of guilt should the ball hit Sera.

"Frak." Simon says under his breath, and then nods suddenly upwards to Andromeda. "Corporal Simon Noble. I'm one of the jobber riflemen. So yeah, I'm gonna be one of yer'boys." He smirks, nodding over to Duke. "She's right, you know. Freakin' out's bad times."

Wham! The thing cracks Sera right on the back of the noggin, making her head jerk forward and her ponytail sway. "OW!," comes her cry, which is more one of alarm than of pain. One hand — the tips of which seem to be stained a near-permanent grey despite being freshly showered — flies up to clutch the back of her head, rubbing at the spot under her hair. She swings around, glaring, and promptly pronounces, "What the frak, genius? Did you grease up your hands before comin' in here or did you just never grow out of punchin' girls in the arm to let them know you liked them?"

Ball flying, direct hit! Duke watches the whole thing and then looks at Sera for a moment as she snaps at Noble. The man opens his mouth to say something but then again, he knows Sera well enough to realize what the outcome would be, so he just chuckles softly and shakes his head. The man just hops on one of the dryers and sits there, slumping forward, tapping his hands on the metal edge as if drumming a little. Yes, doing laundry is fraking, fraking boring. Now, he clears his throat and says, nothing.

"Well if you must know, I greased my hands first." Noble fires back to Sera with a cringe and a full barrage of sarcasm that he immediately realizes is probably a bad idea. Immediately switching over to the half-apologetic I'll-pay-for-the-damages act that most men fall into after spilling their drinks on someone, he steps over towards her. "Did it get you bad? Seriously, I'm sorry about that. I was aiming for the…" He motions to the washing machine in the corner…the only WAY over there. "…thing." He frowns over to Duke, looking for a little back-up.

Duke does catch a glimpse of how Noble looks at him and then just nods his head, lightly raising one hand to chest level as if to call for attention "It was an accident, Sera" says the man, knowing that it was an accident, or at least convinced by the idea that it /was/ an accident. He licks his lips and taps a few more times on the machine, now moving his gaze to pay attention at his laundry that is currently going through the last stages of the program. "I think people are not so angry anymore, at leaving so soon" adds Duke, as a way to disable the situation and divert the conversation to another area.

Giving Sera a wary look as he stops at a nearby washer, Noble opens the lid and grabs the wet contents from inside. The large armful of wet clothing includes whites, delicates, duty uniforms, and the occasional pair of boxer briefs, which he carries over to a nearby dryer and toes open the trap door. Like throwing baggage onto a commercial spaceliner, he throws the clothes in and turns the dryer on without a dryer sheet. Noble…is a laundry specialist.

Brushing his hands clean, he steps back over to Sera and leans to the side a little, trying to get a look at the back of her head. "Seriously, though, did that actually hurt?"

And there's a BEEP, coming from Duke's washing machines, signalling that the quick-wash mode has been completed. He stands up, takes his basket and marches towards the machines, opening both doors, pulling his stuff into the basket. Well, awkward silence is awkward, so the man just closes both doors and walks towards a dryer, pulling the cover open and throwing his stuff there, very much like what Noble just did. He is by no means, an expert in laundry so he looks at the different options for a moment before finally making up his mind and selecting one.

"Frakkin chores, right." Noble grunts, giving his dryer a little kick. Reaching past Sera, he collects his pyramid ball and then leans back on the dryer with a frown. "So, yeah, Richard I think you're right, no one's really mad anymore about the early pull-out. I don't know why I signed on for another eighteen? I think the last eighteen was easy money, to be honest. I would have liked to get a little more leave between now and then, but the money's through the roof." He smirks, tossing the ball into the air to play catch with himself. "I'm probably going to get me a new car when I get home. Drive it up and down the street then…park it and go inside and do something else."

"Sounds like a good plan" offers Duke about the idea of buying a car. "Money, of course" says Duke, nodding his head and then adding "Or, well…whatever reasons each one might have. I know I can use the money so I signed up for the extended stay, then I figure I'll send some money back home so we can start thinking about getting new equipment back at the farm" Well, after all, he is from Aerilon. There is also this idea of getting a salvage Viper and work on it as much as he can, he is actually working on this one quite a bit. Or, well, worked on this one while he had his days off, trying to find exactly what he is looking for.

She's still frowning and still occasionally reaching up to feel the back of her head, checking for the possible onset of horribly unattractive lumps. That's exactly what every girl needs to add to her beauty repetoire — a misshapen head. "No. I'm fine," she mumbles as she begins loading up on detergent. And yes, fabric softener. Because she doesn't like her fatigues all scratchy, thank you. "And believe it or not, some of us did still have plans on-world, Bumper. Not everyone locks themselves in their bunk all day and refuses to go outside." There's an arched brow at that, clearly admonishing him for his sad panda-ness after eighteen months on the same ship. "Triad night's Monday. You're gonna come." Statement. Not question.

"Who him?" Simon asks, motioning to Richard Duke, aka Bumper. Triad night? Sounds…like something he's not been invited to. Playing it casual, Noble takes one of the balls and throws it towards an open washing machine that's far out of rebound-fear range, and this one he sinks. Yawning, he starts over to retrieve it. "Bumper? That's your callsign? Dang. That's kind of unfortunate."

"Hey, I still had things to do down in Aerilon, you know that" says Duke to Sera, smiling at her and shaking his head. Not that he didn't spend an awful amount of time locked in his own bunk, feeling miserable. Now, when she mentions the Triad night, the man looks down and shakes his head, smiling at that "Sure, but I hope you are prepared to have your money taken from you" To this, he shrugs casually and winks at the girl. When Noble makes the comment on his callsign, he looks at him and nods his head "Yeah, Bumper is my callsign." Then he shrugs casually and offers "It's kinda the idea, all callsigns are normally given due to something…well…something related to not the best of our moments"

"Don't let him bullshit you," Sera explains as she peeks at the timer on her first washer. Not wanting to be that jerk that has filled up every machine, she's holding her third load until the first one is finished. "We were stationed on the Universal together, about a decade back. My first assignment out of A-school. They called him "Bumper" there because his "unfortunate" incident involved a little 'love tap' to the CAG's Raptor when they were out in the black. Nose of his Viper, right up the man's backside. I think there's videos of it online," she advises Noble with a smirk. "Includin' his 'Oh shiiiii—-' face from the internal cam."

With all of the winking and past history joking, Simon gives the two of them a knowing look, as if to say oh, you two know each other. It all seems to make more sense to the marine. As Sera finishes her story, he cocks a seriously red eyebrow towards her and then looks over to Bumper. "God damn, man, you got off easy with Bumper, you know that? If I were there that day you wouldn't have gotten away alive without the name Salad." He laughs, dunking his hand into the dryer to retrive the ball. "Thanks, miss, I think I'm going to have to look that up if I can. I won't spread it around though, man. You're good people."

Duke does a thumbs up sign to Sera and says "Well thank you, Sera…wonderful of you" He chuckles at this and then takes a deep breath, finally looking at the program on the dryer to see how long before it's completed. "The videos are still online, actually…also in the Colonial archives, for whatever reason." Yeah, they will /never/ let him forget that moment. "I did get sent to the brig for a couple days" Which explains what he mentioned earlier today about sitting down a lot without doing anything while in the brig. "Accident happened during Flight School, turns out the CAG there was/is friends with the CAG at the Universal" He shrugs his shoulders at this and then looks at Sera "You and I will have words, young lady" offers the man with a smirk. Oooooh, he's getting all her money now, it is /on/.

"Oh shit, he called you young lady…" Noble throws some gasoline on it.

"Yes, sir," she says with a bright, easy laugh. It's the kind that tends to catch on with others, which is suprising, given her amazingly low tolerance for shenanigans and taking crap. There's even a little salute given to the pilot, even if it only consists of the first two fingers of her right hand. Then she hops up onto her washer and stares at Noble, asking point-blank and with about as much subtlety as on oncoming freight train, "So, are you comin'? Monday, I mean. It'll be mostly enlisted. Or, well, almost entirely enlisted. Except for Captain Duke, because all he ever does is lay around somewhere, snorin' like an old man until he gets a boot to the ass and somebody makes him, like, talk to other people and stuff."

Noble looks from Sera to Duke, then back to Sera. As casually as can be, he lifts his shoulder into a shrug. "Frak it, sure. I was planning on hitting the Rec for some video game time on monday anyway, but I can't be talked out of a good Triad game." He raises a finger, pointing to Sera, then to Duke. "So long as it's a friendly game, you know, not one of those completely frakkin' stressful ones where everyone gets bent out of shape. I operate on a low-drama policy."

"Exactly, that's who I am, the old man…" says Duke, nodding his head at that. He does return the two finger salute to Sera and then looks at Noble now, waiting to see what the man says about a game of cards "Don't let her fool you either, she is inviting people so she can clean house with them. This one is not to be trusted when it comes to a game of cards." Now, he shrugs casually and looks at Sera "Hey, a friendly and fair warning about your plans" He smiles at the girl and then pops the dryer open, taking a shirt, smelling it for a moment and then dropping it inside the basket. And now, he starts pulling all his stuff into the basket.

The little knuckledragger spreads her hands, palms out and fingers splayed. Her intentions? Toooooooootally innocent. "I can't help it if the last ten years in the Colonial Fleet has left me with nothin' better to do with myself than master the game, now can I?" Because, y'know, really. The deck isn't one of the busiest places on the ship. Nooooooooooo. "Personally, I blame command for not providin' us with more wholesome forms of entertainment." She brushes her bangs back from her eyes and advises Noble with a cheeky little grin. "Bring cash. We don't take credit or IOUs on the Orion."

"Wouldn't think of it, miss. Credit, IOUs, and trying to trade off laundry chores for another buy-in are complete little bitch moves." Noble replies, and then the buzzer on his dryer emits a loud, fuzzy BZZZZT noise. Quickly gathering up his three faux-pyramid balls, he drags his laundry bag over to the dryer and opens the trap door. Taking a look inside, he does his best to open the laundry bag and shovel the entire contents of the dryer into the bag with one arm. What he doesn't get on the first pass is easily picked up and tossed in afterwards. The three pyramid balls go on top, and just before he cinches the bag shut, he stops. Reaching into the bag, he pulls out one of the balls and tosses it at Sera. "There's your wholesome entertainment until then. Bumper? It was a pleasure meeting you, and if things work out right I'll see you guys on tomorrow." With an informal half-salute, he heads for the door.

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