AWD #269: There's Something About Toby

A marine and a wing walk into a chapel…

AWD #269: There's Something About Toby
Summary: A marine and a wing walk into a chapel…and discussion some stuff that went down earlier.
Date: 02/Oct/2013
Related Logs: []
Devlin Kostas Leightner 
Chapel - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The chapel is one of the few quiet places to be found on a battlestar. Even rarer still, it's one of the few places that doesn't look like it's part of a battlestar. Heavy blue curtains have been hung from the walls, obscuring the bulkheads. The lights are kept low, adding a certain mystery and gravitas to the space. The central altar is made of a pale grey wood, as are the several rows of pews which extend from it. Laid against the far right wall is a long, low table with several rows of simple white votive candles to be used as vigil lights. Centered among them is a brass plate for burnt offerings from supplicants. Several cushions rest on the floor before the table, where the faithful may kneel to offer their prayers to the Lords and Ladies of Kobol. On the left wall are several compartments which have been sectioned off for private use.
AWD #269

It's been several days now, almost a week and the forward advance from Crandall has managed to lift the spirits of a lot of the crew, especially for those who have had family and friends located in the areas that will now be accessible with the forward base slowly coming into operation. Of course the effects of a steady advance and constant rotating action with shifts seeming longer and longer, has left most of the crew scurying for their bunks shortly after mess when their shifts are over. People catch sleep whenever and wherever they can and sometimes that does not happen to be their bunks.

One such person is Devlin, the ECO having managed to carve out a niche for himself on one of the short pews to tilt his head and have his eyes closed. For all intent and purpose, the man does appear to be asleep. He's reclined in such a way that his feet are tucked into the space in front of him, keeping him from rolling, and while his hands are clasped over his chest in a sort of 'prayer' position, it's likely the man has succumbed to his own exaustion.

Thankfully for Devlin, he's not the only one who has managed to put themselves in such a state as two other would be osmosis like prayer partners have found themselves draped over the benches as well, their snores creating a mini duet that plays about the chamber.

Kostas should probably be sleeping in her rack somewhere else; however, though her eyes are a bit shadowed the marine actually doesn't look too worse for wear considering everything going on around them. Just a brief window of a couple of hours that she's got here, and from the footsteps of purpose that carry her forward, it seems that Kostas is determined to make good on them. She's in fatigues, instead of full armor, bringing a bit of a lighter spring to her step, though one sleeve is rolled up to reveal a fresh compression bandage curing on her left arm.

She makes her way to the table of vigil lights, though this night she lights only one, pausing to stare down at it before bringing the fingers of her right hand briefly to her lips and then holding them briefly above the flame. It's not to Ares' altar that she goes next, or even Athena's. No, it's to Hestia's that she kneels briefly, murmuring something softly that's swallowed up by the sounds of the snoring duet. When she rises, it's to put a small flower on the offering plate. It's imperfect, a few petals bruised and lopsided, perhaps damaged in transport. She remains for a moment, then turns slowly and makes her way back down the aisles. Her expression is stoic in a way, but perhaps there's just a shade more of tiredness in her dark eyes.

Devlin starts awake as he senses the presence of Kostas returning down the aisle. He blinks twice, rather rapidly, and then murmurs quickly, "…Ares watch that our strikes make true…" and continues on as though he were in prayer the whole time, apparently rather embarassed that he had fallen asleep in the chapel area. He finishes probably the second shortest prayer in the history of the chapel and then rises slowly, allowing the blood to slowly return to his head and get the circulation moving before he falls back down again. He's just about to leave when he finally seems to recognize the person whom had disturbed his slumber. His eyes narrow slightly as he focuses on Kostas' form and then notes the snoring duo.

A smirk graces his lips as he steps into the aisle and whispers quietly to the marine, "Ensign, a word, if you will?" He asks her, though he's gesturing to a position in the chapel that's a little more removed from the sleeping beauties. From his tone, it's clear that it's a question that she's fully able to refuse and be taken with grace and his stance seems inviting if nothing else.

Kostas pauses to draw a wadded up piece of paper from her pocket and toss it (She shoots! She scores!) into the discreet waste receptical nearby. It slows her down enough for Devlin to find his feet, and for the whisper to reach her. Her head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing a little bit before she places him. There's a touch of wariness there, though his demeanor is friendly and open, and it relaxes her guard. A smidge. She nods once. "El Tee Jay Gee. Sure thing." She glances down at her chronometer. "I got some ticks b'fore th' shuttle back."

Kostas' gaze moves in the direction that Devlin's gestured, and she nods once, starting to move off in that direction, stretching her good arm a bit to scratch at the back of her neck. "How's th' huntin'?" she asks, of the Air Wing contributions to the Picon operations. "Shit gettin' cleared out?" Her gravelly voice is hushed though, appropriate to the chapel setting. Once they get to the little section in the back, she doesn't waste too much time kicking back in a seat.

Devlin's footsteps take him to the indicated corner when it becomes apparent that she's going to join him there. His hand rests at his side while the other traces the edge of a picture along the wall, seeming more interested in the gilding of the frame than the actual contents of the picture itself. He turns and nods to Kostas when she speaks, "Indeed, name's Devlin. Durnst," the last name he adds after a pause, and then continues, "Hunting isn't too bad, slowly making the rounds and the sweeps get larger and larger with each pass. Soon we'll be making room for the closer towns and places. Perhaps we'll have a secure perimeter soon enough. That should offer everyone a chance to catch their breath and get some rest." Devlin breathes in a bit and sighs.

"I guess I could tell you about all the wonderful things that are happening down there from the skies, but I think, after the shit I've been through here on the ship, that something should at least come out. I was trying to chase you down the other day, after the mess, but alas I couldn't find you. Now I have though, or maybe you found me, regardless, you remember Shackleton? He's worried around you, I figure there's somethign in the past, not looking for stories, or anything like that, but we're in the last battles fo humanity, if there's something that's goign to keep him, or you from going after each other, what'll that be?" Devlin lets all his words come out in a rush, apparently wanting to get it all out before he breathes and so when the last word leaves his lips, he inhales deeply and seems to relax a little.

"Nice ta meet ya, Durnst," Kostas replies, affably enough, even flashing a bit of a tired grin. She listens to the report, seeming a relieved. "We got excellent cover when we took th' base thanks to yas. Glad ta know you keepin' the fuckers soft. We on th' move again pretty soon though." It's not a complaint—there might even be a hint of relief there. Her head tilts as he shifts the subject, though when Toby's name is mentioned the cautious openness in her expression starts to shut down.

She's quiet for awhile, arms folded in thought, rocking back a bit in her seated position as she considers. Finally she sighs. Maybe it's the sanctuary of the gods thing, maybe she's just damned tired. Maybe it has to do with the crumpled pathetic flower she left on the plate a few minutes past. But there's a hell of a lot wrapped up in that sigh. Exhaustion, exasperation, a little anger, but mostly sorrow. The gruff marine rubs at her jaw for a moment. "Shackleton's story is his ta tell, an' not mine. He been through a fuckin' lot though, and don't deserve ta have folks pokin' at him." There's perhaps a disarming and quite surprising degree of protectiveness to her tone, despite the fact that Toby's got a good decade on her in years, and is certainly a lot bigger and perhaps stronger too. "But did he say that *I* did somethin' ta him? No. Shackleton be a lotta things, but he ain't no liar." She shrugs. "I ain't goin' after Shackleton. *Never* have. *Never* will. If he needs ta go after me, then so be it." She looks up into Devlin's eyes intently. "But you leave him alone about it. If he feel safe here, then I do whatever I can ta keep it that way. He deserves that."

Devlin's eyes open a little wider at Kostas' words though he nods along with her telling of things. When she makes it clear what her intentions are, he nods again, "That seems fair, and like I said, I wasn't chasing stories. We've all got pasts, histories that are riddled with all sorts of things we wish we could take back, or things that we wished we'd never let go of, but that's behind us now, life's moved on and grabbed us up in its most wicked grasp and thrown us to the dogs to deal with the resurrection of a breed of machines we thought gone, and now we're fighting for the very survival of our species. I could make it even more dramatic, but I think you already get the picture, you know what it's like down there on the ground. We're it, the last hope, and seeing the worry between us, the infighting, not saying that you're causing it," he adds, then continues, "it bothers me. We've got too much already riding on us to toss it up with the past, if you know what I mean?"

Devlin also falls silent after his explanation and then leans against the wall, watching her, "So, that all aside, I don't think I caught your name in the midst of all that? Glad to have you on the ground in Crandall, saw you folks doing a bang-up job. Saved a lot of lives nad your squad managed to pull through without any losses, that was some good marching orders on the ground there."

There's a little start to laughter, not quite a snort, but it never blossoms in full. The smile remains, though. It's not a mean one, or even a particularly jaded one, though even that is still tinged with sadness, here in the sanctuary. Kostas' eyes fall on the flower again, before turning back to Devlin. "Some 'f us used t' fightin' for survival," she points out. "A long time b'fore this shit went down. I seen people kill each other for food that've fed 'em both an' then some if they stopped th' fighting. If you fightin' for humanity, then you fightin' for us to do stupid shit like hold grudges an' hate and do dumbass things just as much as we protect an' serve 'an love. Fuck, man. If all we do is perfectly perfect for our own good, every part in it's place no fightin', everthing just so—" she shrugs. "Then how we different from the canners and other machines?" She actually reaches up to pat his arm, gentle marine-bro style. "Don't worry 'bout it none. As long as there's humans, there's gonna be humans being assholes to each other. You ain't never been a little shit to nobody? In the end, we still workin' together. Even if some 'f us not gonna like each other."

Kostas relaxes against her seat after all that. "Silvia Kostas," she introduces herself, offering a hand. "From Canceron. An' thanks. Yeah, Captain Ommanney's the bomb, and we got a PJ keepin' us going. Sure hope th' next op goes like that, but…guess we'll see."

Devlin shakes his head and then there's a sadness that comes over his face, "Aye, you're right, there will awlays be the ones that will never expecte to work together, there's the rfreedom of opinion, no matter how wrong some people will choose to be. It's a nasty sort of life, but I suppose we've got to take the good with the ugly. I mean, I guess there was this one guy recently who I struck upside the head with a fire extinguisher, that's got to count for something, right? Though to be fair, he deserved it…immensely." Devlin's reply is quite sharp upon those last few words, some residual anger from whatever transgression that was in the past seeming to linger. He extends his own hand, taking hers and shaking it firmly before releasing. "Canceron? Do you have any word of the system? I've got nothing but blacked out pages and radio silence from there, sorry."

He bows his head and looks across the chapel where currently there are two interlopers asleep in the seats, leaving himself and Kostas near a back corner, discussing things in hushed voices. "Yeah, well it worked well, that good thing could be exactly what we need to get us through this world and on to the next. We've got a whole system to liberate, one bloody acre at a time."

Leightner enters the Chapel silently, moving to a bank of candles, introspective, as he goes through the ritual of lighting one, moving to place the candle before Asclepius. His tall frame in a supplicant position of prayer before the god of Healing. He notices neither anyone in the back, nor anyone asleep. He is largely inward at the moment.

"Good without ugly is boring," Kostas declares authoritatively, though she's grinning as she does so. "Depends," Kostas says of Devlin's fire extinguisher rampage. "Did ya sneak up behind him so he don't know what hit him, or…?" She shrugs a bit at the mention of Canceron. "Not sure. I been off Picon for…a little over a week now. Hasn't been time to ask 'round. Do we know anything about other places yet?" She doesn't sound super anxious though. "Figured Hades be under glass…either from somethin' like th' nuked places of Picon or from stupid fuckers rioting themselves ta death." She nods in agreement to his last. "And we do it to, ECO. You'll see." She winks at him. "Then we can have a brawl 'r something ta get rid of all that nice teamwork shit."

"WE know about Caprica, we're striking there just as hard as here, so who knows what'll happen, but I have no idea what's going on there now," Devlin replies to Kostas as he looks up from his position of supporting the wall. He turns to see Leightner and nods to the man, even if it goes missed in the other's inward moment. He leans his head forward and pushes off with his hips so that he can be upright once more. "Well, Kostas, it's been a slice, I'll have to take a raincheck on the whole beating each other up and stuff, for now I've got to go save a Nugget from breaking a DRADIS, or two. Nice to meet you," he comes a little to attention, but not relaly, it's sort of half assed before he turns to the side and starts to walk away, waiting for any parting words of her own.

Leightner lifts his head after a few moments, breathing in deeply once and turns, throat constricting in a swallow as he begins moving out, and yeah, people sleeping, okay. He accepts this, but then, yes, NEVER will this man forget a forearm wound. He recognizes the Cancerion Ensign directly, inclining his head, in respect, again, they never seem to meet in a 'Saluting' atmosphere.

Kostas waves to Devlin as he hurries out, and then again lifts her hand to the corpsman as he starts to move down the aisle. Look. She's *resting* even, rocked back on the bench. "Howsit, PO3?" she greets him quietly once he's closer. "You catchin' the next shuttle back too? Not leaving for another little bit. Figured I'd get some time in here, an' then see how much instant coffee I c'n stuff in my pcokets in the mess ta smuggle back down ta base."

Leightner slows, approaching, and settles himself slightly to converse quietly, and nods, "I can help you with that sir. I've been reconning, learning the ship. I can distract a cook with FNG questions, but likely not for long." He brightens a bit with the joke, then sighs, "Paperwork sir, I'm not gonna be on duty for 24." He touches his shoulder, "Immunos. Part of the Transfer Physical, I have to report for a followup."

"You havin' too much fun then, Leightner," Kostas shakes her head. "Maybe you luck out an' get a hot nurse though." She grins, contemplating his offer of assistance. "Well, figured I'd give 'em a chance ta hand stuff over nicely…" she winks at him. "But if ya can see what ya score before you report back down again and ferry another care package, I think you gonna be everybody's even *more* best friend."

Leightner nods, as he listens intently, "Aye sir I'll see what I can do." He takes in a breath, and considers a moment, before asking, "Sir, I've filled out my loadout, conpletely, finished my Firearms Quals, and ready hit dirt soon as I'm cleared by Sickbay." And he wants to go. It's right there. He wants back in the action. There's a nervous energy in him that carried him in battle that doesn't stop here.

Kostas rocks back up to her feet, though she does take a moment to lay a hand on Leightner's shoulder in a brief pat. "Longest 24, I know. But you'll be down there soon, corpsman. I'd say enjoy it up here while it last, but…" she shrugs affably. "Tell ya true, I feel better poundin' th' ground an' hittin' the next objective. She tucks her medallions, three on a chain similar to that of her dogtags, back into her uniform. Aries, of course. And Artemis…and Hestia. "I'll try ta not get shot up too bad 'til ya get back down. See ya soon."

Leightner nods, with a smile, "Looking forward to seeing you on the ground, sir." And yes, he's a Beta type personality, he's wanting to follow, and kick ass doing it. Thumbs up.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License