AWD #270: The Gods Are Invested In Us
The Gods Are Invested In Us
Summary: The chaplain takes the long view of the war, while a few pilots take a brief rest in the chapel.
Date: 03/10/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: The content of Chaplain's Address is referenced.
Bennett Iphigenia Phin Taylor 
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 #270

Evenings in the chapel are often slow. Iphigenia takes a break from her paperwork to set the place to rights; just little things. Making sure hymnals are stacked. Scraping at the remnants of candles. Dusting the idols with careful reverence. She's the head of her sub-department and yet she's not leaving these tasks to the chaplain's assistants. At least, not for the moment.

Phin slouches into the chapel. Possibly just from the showers. His hair's still wet, and he looks freshly scrubbed. He's just changed back into his flight suit rather than off-duty gear, though. He has the sleeves pulled down and looped around his waist, but that's as casual as he's comfortable getting right now. He looks exhausted, but he's hardly the only one. "Oh. Hey, Sister." He doesn't approach any of the altars, but just slumps onto one of the benches.

"You look tired, Lieutenant." Iphigenia says softly with a darted look toward Taylor. "It seems quite a few are seeking the chapel for a bit of quiet and rest."

Taylor is, for his part, already slumped low into a bench, his head laying back. The one place he can find peace and solace he has escaped to. He ignores the bustling around him, as he usually does, his head resting and his closed eyes raised to the cieling.

There's a look of some surprise from Phin to see Taylor here, but it's muted. It's not that surprising. "Yeah. Well. Lots of flight hours," he replies to the chaplain, as to his tiredness. "I thought I might catch services but I've kind of lost track of what time it is. It all kind of blurs together after awhile." As for many seeking the chapel, he nods. "Yeah. I'll bet. It's nice here. Gives you room to think."

"The chaplains are on rotation down on Picon. I've some idea of the strain and expect I'll be experiencing it shortly." Gen admits gently. "I don't mind anyone taking advantage of the quiet so long as it doesn't disrupt services. The next isn't for a few hours, I'm afraid. Are you allotted any rack time?"

Taylor doesn't stir as the two carry on the conversation. His soft breathing betrays his obliviousness to the world. He is probably asleep, as strange as the position he may be in is. Thankfully he's not snoring, since that would probably get him the boot.

"Yeah. It's kind of catch as catch can, though. If they need everyone to scramble, still got to go." Phin tries to keep his voice down, given Taylor's sleeping. "What's it like down there? Picon, I mean. I haven't logged much time on the surface, except to put down my Viper a few times before flying back up."

"Chaotic." Iphigenia confesses. "As I understand it, the Centurions are targets that can be contended with, but the skinjobs are a lot more difficult."

Taylor smacks his lips once, taking a deep breath in his sleep.

"It's easy with the Centurions. Raiders, too. You always know you're shooting a robot. The skinjobs are…I don't know." Phin takes a minute, not sure at all where he wants to go with that. "I still don't understand them. Why the Cylons would've made them, what they made them for…Sergeant Knox talks about his 'line' sometimes. So did Redux. The one time I…talked to her about it. Like they're all supposed to be kind of made from the same materials. Except not, because the Cylons tried to make them like humans, too."

"Are you holding up, Lieutenant? Though I suppose it's a redundant question, you'd tell me you're fine no matter what. To keep flying. Yes?"

Taylor rolls his shoulder slightly, his head falling to the side as the conversation continues.

"I'm fi…" Phin pauses, cracking a slight, sheepish grin. He would indeed. He shrugs. "I guess I'm doing as OK as anybody else. It's hard, but that's kind of what it has to be right now. Not like we can stop fighting. I mean, we can but, not really a choice. War or death. There's not much else out there." He shifts a look to Taylor but, seeing the other man still sleeping, leaves him be.

Gen regards the sleeping young man - she seems ill inclined to disturb him, so unless he plans to wake up on his own, he'll be left to his own devices. And most likely awaken with a crick in his neck. She turns back to Phin. "Have you been leaving offerings for Aurora?"

Taylor continues uninterrupted, though his breathing becomes slightly more irregular.

"I have, yeah. Ares, too. Sometimes the other gods." Phin doesn't specify which other ones, though. "I'm not sure how much the gods actually listen to prayers, to be honest. It seems like they have their own ideas about what they want, and we're all just kind of along for the ride. If she's the one that shows us the way home, though, I want to at least try and keep that in my head."

"The idea of all of this happening before and due to happen again can often feel overwhelming." Gen admits. "But I try to take the long view. If this has happened before, and we are still here? Then our victory is inevitable."

Bennett arrives from the Fore Corridor.

Taylor jumps with a start, his leg kicking out and making contact with the bench in front of him, which he also grabs onto as he sits up suddenly, eyes afire and looking around. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out as he recognizes his surroundings again and he sighs deeply, sitting back in the seat and bending over his knees, running a hand over his short-cropped hair.

"So you think this'll be over some day?" Phin can't help but sound skeptical. "Don't get me wrong I'm not…it's better to keep fighting than give up. Only way you can live. But I can't help but wonder…they've got every one of the worlds, including most of Picon still. The ones they haven't just destroyed altogether. I think about that, and I think that, even if we do win someday, it'll probably be years and years and years from now. If any of us are alive to see it." It's one of the quieter hours in the chapel, between services. Phin is slumped onto a bench, talking with Iphigenia. Taylor sleeping on another bench.

Or was sleeping, until he suddenly woke up.

Bennett slips into the chapel, tanks and fatigues-clad, her dark hair pulled into a hasty braid draped across one shoulder. Rather than disturb the others present here, she skirts around the benches and drifts toward the far end of the room where the votives are laid out. Fingertips on the low table, she slips her boots off and kneels.

"I do." says Iphigenia with quiet certainty. "And I believe we are meant to see its end some day. This battle is…the Gods are invested in it. They want us to succeed. I know this."

Taylor takes a deep breath, still hunched over, and looks up in front of him.. which happens to be in the direction of the statue to Athena. He runs a hand over his face, pausing for a moment to let the sleep fall out of him. With another heavy breath he leans back, looking around the chapel, and is surprised to see Phin and the priestess nearby, with Bennett sneaking around in the background. He raises a hand to them, offering a weak smile.

"I remember you saying something once, about a vision you had. About Ares, and the skinjobs, and…" Phin seems nervous to ask about it, yet he plainly wants to. He trails off at the sound of Taylor waking, though. It makes him more generally aware of his surroundings, and he notes Bennett's entry and passage up to the table. He offers the Raptor captain an absent nod she probably doesn't see, but no verbal greeting that'd interrupt her. Taylor's likewise given an inclination of his head when the man stirts. "Hey, Violet." There's just a hint of humor in the smile he returns.

"I hope you slept well, Ensign." Gen offers to Taylor with a smile. She notices Bennett, but since the other woman is on her knees, does not call out to her. She focuses her attention on Phin. "Yes. All of the Gods were present, but it was Ares who showed me what was to come in his shield, and Aphrodite touched me."

Bennett's eyes alight upon Phin for a moment, and the priestess too, but there's no smile on her lips as there often is. Her mind, perhaps, is on the gods at the moment. She slips off her jacket, then rifles about in the pockets until a small object is found, and withdrawn. A thistle flower, recently picked from the look of it. And a traditional offering to Dionysus, whose statue she's knelt in front of. It's placed in the dish, and a match struck and touched to it, to set it to burning.

Taylor shakes his head as Phin calls him by his, apparent, new call, having resigned himself to the fact. "Good morning, Priestess. Dolly, what's the score?" He stands, stretching deeply, resisting the urge to groan with it as he notcies Bennett's offering prayer.

"Evening now," Phin says to Taylor. "Not that it matters too much. Not like we've got night or day duty up here. Hope you got some decent sleep. Doubt today'll be any quieter." Much of his focus remains on Iphigenia, though. He thinks on her words. "Ares and Aphrodite. Whoa." Phin sounds not a little sympathetic for the priestess. "They always made a weird kind of sense as a couple in the stories. Not a good couple but…" He shrugs. "Passions that kind of go together, better or worse. What'd they show you? What'd you see?"

She's recounted this story many times. "Ares showed me what I know understand to be jacked troops." Iphigenia explains. "Aphrodite's message was about hope. It was part of why I know we will live to see this war's end."

Bennett spends a few long moments lost in prayer, or thought, or perhaps simply silence. Then finally her lashes flicker and there's a soft sigh as she climbs back to her feet. The offering is left to burn out on its own. "Sister. Doll. Good evening." Her greeting is soft, and her eyes linger upon Iphigenia as she settles onto the same bench as the pair, with a polite distance in between.

"Any time you wake up it's mornin'. Even if it's only twenty minutes." He smiles. "Keeps everything in perspective." He nods to Bennett as she sits near the two on the other bench. "Mornin' Captain." He sets back on his own bench, though now turned to look at the others.

"Aren't in time to see the sunrise today, though," Phin observes to Taylor. Not that he argues with the other pilot's pronouncement about mornings. "Hope…" He considers that from the priestess. He definitely takes something from it, but it's hard to tell what. Maybe just something to think on. "Hey, Butch. How's life?"

Taylor gets a smile from the bus driver for his wisdom, and then Phin pulls her attention away. "I think I am running on fumes," she answers, pressing her thumb and two fingers into her temples, and closing her eyes for a few moments. "And when I say fumes, I mean the disgusting socks people keep leaving on the floor in berthings."

"I've heard that argument before." Gen remarks to Taylor with a faint smile. "You should help yourself to coffee in the mess. Has the CAG started advising stims yet? If she hasn't, I'm certain she will soon." To Phin, "More pointedly, she said Be strong for each other. You will need all in the time ahead. Do not lose hope in the darkness." Iphigenia remembers it word for word. Only then, "Good evening, Bennett. I hope you're getting enough rest."

Taylor waves a hand dismissively, yet respectively, at the sister. "Don't drink coffee. Can't stand the taste.. never could. Settle myself down with some nice cereal, or tea." He listens to the scripture, smiling absently, and he murmurs half to himself, "Apropro, for we fly in the darkness."

"Yeah, Major's given the OK for Medical to start handing them out," Phin replies, as to the stims. He does not look like he's partaking yet, for better or worse. "I think if I cut myself I'd bleed mess coffee at this point. It's not bad. Just needs sugar and…dead taste buds. But that's no worse than usual."

Bennett's gaze wanders back to the young ensign, perhaps having caught some of what he murmured to himself. The scent of the burning thistle has begun to infiltrate the air in here, pungent and grassy. "You should come by my bunk some time." It is not a proposition, though it could be mistaken for one with that easy smile of hers. "I have a box full of odd tea bags I've collected." Then to Iphigenia, "Sister, I.. would like to speak with you. Soon. If you can make the time for it." As to whether she's getting enough sleep, the dark circles under her eyes and the permanent bruise where her helmet's hardseal digs into her neck should be testament enough.

"I can make time for you right now if you're not in a rush, but otherwise, yes, I'll make time for you." says Gen, suddenly inhaling. "Thistle. Dionysus' offerings are so rare, but welcome." She looks at all three of them. "I know how precious rack time will be for you all these days."

Taylor blinks a couple times, looking at Bennett. "Uh.. sure, Captain.. maybe I'll swing by.. been a while since there's been any good tea." Meanwhile it stretches again, rubbing an eye and fighting off a yawn. "When's next rotation, anyway?"

"I'm on duty in the morning, but gods only know when we'll have to go up again," Phin replies to Taylor. The 'scramble now' sirens have been common. With a groan, he makes himself stand. "I should go get reacquainted with my bunk while I still can."

"I am on medevac duty again tonight," Bennett answers softly. There's a faint note of disappointment, blue eyes slipping away from the priestess as she shrugs back into her jacket, and begins to pull on her boots. Her socks have pink hearts on them; not exactly military issue. "Fourty-five minutes," she tells Taylor without looking up. Phin, though, gets a glance and a smile as he makes to leave.

"Get what rest you can." she advises the lot of them, and then, "Bennett - are you sure you can't stay a bit longer?"

Taylor nods and stands. "Probably head that way then. Maybe even land me an extra spot, if no one notices anything." Which of course, he seems obvlious to the fact he just stated that in front of the captain. "It's still there at least, Dolly. Milkshake hasn't raided it of all your pillows or anything. Yet."

"I somehow doubt Milkshake's going to be raiding my pillows," Phin says wry. "Night, dude. Or morning. Whatever." He goes to the table to get a votive, which he'll ligth and place in front of the space dedicated to Aurora. Then a respectful nod to Bennett and Iphigenia, and off he goes.

Bennett pauses at the question from Iphigenia, and studies the priestess for a time. A nod, eventually, as she resumes lacing her boots. "I can stay a bit longer." Whatever else she has to say will likely wait until they are alone.

"Gentlemen. Good hunting." Iphigenia offers at their departure, and goes to sit down next to Bennett.

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