PWD #20: They All Fall Down
They All Fall Down
Summary: In a rather ugly and brutal fashion, Daniel and Ceres break up.
Date: 19/12/2012 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Indiscretions
Ceres Aios 
Observation Deck - Battlestar Orion
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.
Dec 19, 2004

Obs Deck, the place to not be - well at this hour. Ceres and maybe one other person are enjoying the view in relative silence, the former curled up with a book and piecing through a page, slowly, if distractedly. Her head is buried in it but her attention is obviously elsewhere with the way her eyes passively move over the words. That worn afghan hugs around her lower half as she is somewhat sprawled out sideways, leaning into the arm of the couch. A faint smile curls her lips and then is gone rather quickly as her brows furrow. Her head finally lifts out of her book, her gaze shifting its attention to what is outside past the viewport and into space. She chews the corner of her mouth, a finger brushing at the accosted area for a second before it falls away. Eyes close and she sighs, leaning her head over to rest on her arm.

For all intents and purposes, she seems to be dozing - or in the process there of.

The door to the Observation Deck opens quietly, a brief gasp as the carpet brushes the underside of the heavily reinforced door. The man who steps through, none other than Daniel Aios, does his best to close the door behind him without distressing the others in the room. His notebook, the one he is rarely seen without, is under his arm and he has once again brought it to its regular place for a series of additions. The Obs Deck…is the home of the man and his future work.

But he slows his steps at the sight of Ceres sleeping on one of the sofas. His eyes trace over her features and a soft frown crosses his lips. For just a moment he hesitates and glances back towards the door. Their relationship has been complicated at best as of late, and some would say it is on the verge of expiring. Just then, something stops him and he turns back towards her sofa. A vein of strength rolls through his shoulders and he quietly crosses the room to come to a stop next to the very piece of furniture she reclines on. The words, for better or for worse, come out as a whisper.

"Are we, you and I, at the stage where we are dividing the room?" His humor is drier than normal these days. "Or shall I crumble paper and throw it at you from over there?"

The door opening or closing does not seem to phase her, not in the sense that she is expecting anyone to walk up to her - which in turn happens. The voice though, that makes her tense and with a drawn breath her eyes open. Twin dark pools pin him with her gaze and her mouth catches, twisting in on itself as she fights between humor and discomfort. Ceres pushes herself up from the arm to more readily respond. "I am not about to stop you from going where you want to go." She murmurs and then pushes a hand through her dark hair as her stormy gaze slips at a distracted attention to the space beyond. "You are welcome to sit where you like." She pulls her book to her. "We are adults, after all." It is a reminder that has some sort of spurn to it perhaps, but she deftly shifts and settles her attention back into the lines of her book.

"How have you been?" The question may come as a surprise, but she doesn't look up.

He stops, teeth biting down softly on the inside of his lip at the sheer discomfort of the cold war that is progressing between them. His pale eyes meet hers and he weighs the empty space between them. The notebook in his hand is forgotten, mentally set aside in favor of the looming issue at hand. She is a pain that, for the moment, he forces himself to endure til the bitter end.

"It has been quiet. I went down to planetside for a day to see the snow, but the majority of my leave I've started to bank." He replies, crossing her field of vision to set on a soft chair to her immediate right. He's close. He intends to talk. It's a statement of purpose wrapped in such a simple act. "How have you been? I haven't see you around." He adds, curious with a hint of defensiveness as he seeks for answers from her.

He sits down next to her and her eyes can not help but look over to him. There is a tension to her jaw but she offers him a faint nod. "To go back to Caprica. Good idea." She turns the next page of her book and has to pause to answer his question. That cold air seems to grow a bit more stark. "Fine."

A simple answer. Far too simple before she continues, "Been plugging more sims time as requested by our new DCAG, you have heard, right?" She asks him, looking up again from her book - making a connection that she seem so adamant to keep limited. "We just seem to be on different schedules, I am sure we will have a CAP again together sometime soon." Strange that, that they haven't.

"You wanted space, so I've penciled in some arrangements with Hedgehog for the last few CAPs." He replies. Yes, it is because of him that they have kept separate schedules. He has been working behind the scenes. "I figured we both were in the mood for patrols that aren't deathly silent and uncomfortable while we figure this out."

He shifts in his seat, turning to face her more fully. Here it comes.

"Ceres, I think we should talk about this. We didn't list an exact date but agreed to not make any destructive decisions until we had taken some time to think it over." His eyes bear the weight of an unsaid question. Had she made any destructive decisions in his absence? He doesn't ask, but he lets her see that he has thought it. "I think what we are doing here, you and I, is reactionary and animalistic, and I think we are making some grand assumptions that are tearing whatever this is apart."

Dark eyes gleam slightly in something of anger as she can see that unspoken assumption in his gaze. Ceres cleanches her teeth and she shifts up, legs unfolding and feet eventually finding the floor. "Whatever this is…." She lets out a short, clipped and wry laugh. "Frak, Daniel.." She lets out a long sigh and leans her head into her hand.

"I know what you are thinking. I haven't done anything, okay. I am not a heartless bitch as I can be painted at most times. At the best of times." She rests her head in her hand and lingers in silence for a moment before looking up at him. "Look, I don't want to hurt you and I can't do this. Eventually you will want more and I can't do it. I won't. So perhaps we should just end this conversation here and wish each other the best."

Daniel's eyes don't even blink as she makes the suggestion. Instead, his perceptive eyes level upon her as if already having seen this part of the conversation taking place. He is calm, perhaps calmer than he should be, and unafraid of treading these waters.

"I don't think that you'd done anything, I just was trying to get an idea of how hard a break, if any, you wanted." He replies calmly, and then brushes a hand through his hair as the back of his neck grows warm and he bares his teeth, frustration forming. "Gods, Ceres, you're not making much sense at all. All I did was suggest that after this next eighteen if you and I are still seeing each other that we look at keeping each other company further still. I don't know what bloody idea you've built up that I'm asking you to be Jamey's mother or follow me about with some sort of crying pillow. That's preposterous. Are you truly against the idea of being with me, because all of this seems far more to be your issue than anything at all that I've asked for you. What exactly are you tying to accomplish, if anything at all by this?"

"Yes, Daniel, it is my issue. Apparently not yours at all. I want out, you don't. I don't want commitment, you do. I am the one pulling away." Pause. "I never wanted to pity you, I wanted to protect you from that vicious soul sucking ex of yours…but that bit about Caprica? I know what it means, what it really means. Its not about just seeing each other, there is more." She makes a motion with her hand outward. "So what..after eighteen weeks we put in for the same stationing, we follow each other around? Might as well be married to make sure it happens." Pause. "I am a lifer, my job is my life. I don't want anything more than what the Fleet can give me. I can't make other commitments."

A bunch of excuses perhaps. Ceres draws her hand up, running it through her long ponytail and then lets bites her lip. "Daniel…" Her voice trails off. Frustration mixing with uncertainty.

"Frakking fine." Daniel bites back harshly, raising his voice just enough that the other occupants in the room decide that it is time to leave. He glances over Ceres to catch their movement, eyes flashing back to her. "You want out? Then be out. I'm not some child that is going to cling to your leg and beg you to not leave if you've decided this isn't where you want to be. I've got far more self respect than that."

He shakes his head sharply, which does little to conceal his frown.

"I never once suggested marriage. I never suggested forever. All I knew is that I had an idea of where I needed to be in eighteen and I have the burden of needing to consider what I've got here that I want versus a series of bloody responsibilities that I will always have! It's not as if I could cast aside my life, Ceres, and there are times that I bloody wish I could leave them all behind." His hand shoots out, pointing towards Piraeus in the distance. "Gods forbid I nudge your delicate boundaries and inform you that I liked things with you as they were and you decided to paint me as some bloody opera figure."

He starts to move away from her, at first it is just a lean away from her personal space.

"Lifer." He snarls under his breath. "That's bloody unrealistic and you know it. I wish I could have words with whoever made you fear having shit."

Ceres focuses on him as he raises his voice and her lips press together in a thin line. She's gone quiet in the face of his frustration. It's obvious by her gaze that her own anger is rising, bubbling below the surface. Her usually own biting demeanor is lost to something collected, composed and most likely bottled up if one were to truly prod deeper. "Yeah, I want out." She murmurs in response, but not enough to stop him from going on.

"You may not have suggested, Daniel…but its there. You are a man who wants those connections and needs them. Its what makes you so damned amazing, the fact you still try for the sake of them even when you want to go." Her face pales a little at his last words and she pushes herself up to look down at him. She's never shared with him, but now there is a break, just a moment. "The one woman that ever meant a damn in my life and gave me hope to aspire things is now dead, alright, nearly two years now." Her finger juts down, pointing at the deck. "I am here because of her…she died of a broken heart because of a man who was too selfish and too self destructive to notice what he had." She growls at him and then takes a moment, drawing a breath to compose herself.

"You want to talk to him, go to Virgon. He's there. Probably drinking his god damned body into hell and back."

"Don't you start to tell me about how I'm amazing." He stands, moving to his full height so that he isn't crowded into his chair by her looming presence. He turns his side to her, staring out of the viewport. "Just…don't do that. I'm sure right now it might seem soothing to whatever rends you feel you're causing, but its unnecessary. Truly."

He shakes his head bitterly, then looks back to her.

"So you've thought this through, have you? Ceres…" He turns the rest of his body back to squarely face hers and rubs at his brow. She is aging him by the hour at this point, and his last futile attempt to talk her out of her decision begins. "…whatever happened to these people is not your doing and suffering this lady's fate doesn't win you any prizes. There is no such thing as a lifer anymore. You, like everyone, are going to grow old until your bloody Viper skills are no longer required and you are replaced by a younger model. Meanwhile, everything you give a deal about is going to age, wither, and fall to shit while you're what, fighting the good fight? What sort of bloody penance is this?"

He quiets, eyes filled to the brim with his particular blend of surly bitterness.

"You deserve better than you're giving yourself." He sighs, shaking his head once more.

"I am not suffering anyone, I am learning a lesson that I would have otherwise stumbled through. Believe me, Daniel, what I am doing is for the better of us both. I deserve nothing more than what I want and its easier this way. So lets just cut the frakking crap." Ceres breathes, her voice rising.

Her eyes close as he talks about growing old, of aging and being no good. "Yeah, well, times change and I don't plan on being in a cockpit forever. There are desk jobs. I do what I have to do, like this. Look at us." She says to him faintly, motioning about them as her voice lowers. "Look at us! How messed up we are, the way we are fighting, hurting each other. I don't need to hurt you anymore than you have been hurt…even if that blood sucking ex of yours is still on my list of people to visit after this tour." She says to him, meaning it entirely.

"Daniel. We are not the last two people int his world, just because we enjoyed each other's company doesn't mean its going to work out. Lets not go down this road." She seems overly composed, as if she's putting on a face suddenly. "Let's just agree to part ways. Please."

Daniel's eyes lock onto hers, doing their best to pierce his gaze through her mask. He too wears a mask, though its fragile coverage lets his frustration and hurt bleed through his anger with her.

He stares. His teeth, clenched beneath tight, conflicted lips fail to part to return any wisdom towards her. His words are spent. They are done.

Without another word, he tucks his notebook under his arm and turns for the door.

…and then he says it.

"Stay away from Penelope and David. If my bloody son even remembers who I am there may be at last one h—" He finishes his sentence, sparing himself the humiliation of wallowing. She doesn't have the rights to the explanations any longer. "Don't you dare rob me of that."

The wind is literally knocked out of her, his accusation causing her to rock back a bit on her own feet as if from a blow. That mask nearly crumbles until she quickly grasps at the pieces to settle it awkwardly and rather rushed into place. Her jaw clenches, then releases as she tries to push past the sudden tightening in her chest.

"If that's what you want…so be it." Ceres says, somewhat strained, her throat aching as she swallows and lifts her chin. "I wouldn't dare steal that chance from you. Ever." She says to him.

Slowing, Talkshow's head dips down to slip a cigarette between his lips and lights it. One long, deep drag is taken into his lungs, flooding his system with the stimulants he so desperately needs to bleed off the tension.

He looks back to her, his face a mask of empty features as if some vital part of his personality has been severed somewhere far upstream. He casts one more hard stare into her eyes, likely his last eye contact with her for quite some time.

"This conversation was never about what I wanted." He says flatly, and then turns to the door. Yanking it open, he steps out into the hallway, his voice faintly heard from a distance telling someone to make a bloody hole.

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