MD #220: Words Over Breakfast
MD #220: Words Over Breakfast
Summary: Emily and Leander meet in the mess and swap stories.
Date: 14/11/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Emily Leander 
The Mess
It's cleaner than you'd expect.
Fri Jun 01 2049 (MD #220)

The newest Marine recruit is more than a week into her training and its been intensive. No days off, just Sunday morning for prayers - of which she has none, so she had to clean the head. A lovely task. This morning she's already been up and done her PT. She's in cammies and had her shower and is sitting at a table. The young Lady is doing her best not to shovel food but its pretty clear she's hungry. The tray looks like it was piled with food at one point and there are still eggs and some sausage patties to work through. Coop is nearby and probably handling her training. Leander can remember well, 'If it goes on your tray, you're eating it.' Kid looks like she fully intends to do just that. The coffee next to her is still half-consumed.

He's seen the princess around, but Leander has never been on her security detail. Possibly deliberate scheduling by the Master at Arms, given the MP's upbringing on a divided Leonis. But now he's off watch duty and grabbing his chow, and he doesn't care who's sitting at the table. "Gunnery Sergeant," Jake tips his head to Knox in a sign of respect. Then he slides in across the table from Emily and picks up is fork to eat. "Damn," he says when he sees all the food she has piled on. "Don't the Skath feed Princesses?" His accent is back-woods Leonese, the tone is more banter than insult.

"I'm not a Princess and I have never been. Unless you count me a bastard, in which case training may need to be delayed while we move to the gym for a fight." Emily says it with a polite smile, but maybe that's just how she does banter as well. The newfound confidence is giving her some backbone and it seems to be doing her well! She continues cutting up a patty of sausage and then brushes some egg onto it. "I believe I have seen you around. You patrol with a beautiful dog. That is a ..kuh-nine unit?" Close. Not quite 'canine'. The food is scooped into her mouth and she chews, looking at him.

"Don't think Gunney Knox is going to interrupt your training schedule," Leander drawls back. Then he points his fork at her and adds, "But you want to scrap? Anytime." The MP starts eating himself, with only a little less restraint than Emily. Not one to complain about the food. There's a nod for his partner, but he corrects the girl here. "Kay dash Nine. Canine. And Prax is a Marine, not a beauty queen. She'd as soon rip your face off as look at you." Well, that may not be true, but the handler makes an effort to prevent people from thinking of the dog like a pet.

"You may be surprised. Gunnery Sergeant Knox might take some pride in watching me throw punches in anger." Emily purses her lips with a little smile over the food. Yep, she's learning to banter. "Ah. Canine. K-dash-nine. Thank you." The mention that the dog is a Marine actually brings a pause to her attempted food shoveling. "Your dog is a Marine? It has a rank? …Your K9 outranks me." Blinkblink. There are dogs that are better, mroe experienced Marines than her. This? This is a point for consideration. "So she is a guard dog? It does not sound like a guard dog. Is there a better word or term, perhaps, to describe her job?" At least she is asking. "I am going to guess I should avoid petting this dog?"

Leander hmmms, shoots a questioning look towards Knox, and then back to Emily. "Let me finish my breakfast first," he says. And true to his word, he keeps digging in. "Mmmmph," he makes an affirmative noise when she asks about the dog's rank, but doesn't answer until he finishes chewing. "The dog's a Lance." And technically ranks him too. "Not that she'll be giving you any orders, but that's how it is. Offical designation is 'Dog, Patrol and Security,' so she's a little more versatile than 'guard dog.' And no, I wouldn't recommend petting Prax."

Emily snickers a little ot herself at the idea of fighting after breakfast. There's a novelty to all this for her, even if it is supposed to be serious. "Two months ago I had everything I could reasonably ask for. I had servants. But I lived in fear, constantly, sort of like a prisoner. It is strange that I came here, became a real prisoner, then find freedom in training to fight." She smiles while she says it, looking down at her food while she cuts the rest of the patty into pieces. "I like your dog already. She sounds like a Marine. Admirable, can be counted on, follows orders, mean as can be if needed." Emily holds her smile, then chews a big bite, looking over Leander. After its swallowed down, "What land do you come from? You do not sound Pican."

"Welcome to reality," Leander quips after hearing Emily describe her journey so far. "Where life is hard but you get to make your own choices." He resumes stuffing his face for a time, merely nodding for what she says about the dog. He respects the animal, but he has a working relationship — and an emotional distance — to maintain there. Then he grins a little when the inevitable 'where are you from' question comes up. It's a thing everyone asks in the service. "Leonis." He puts his fork down long enough to take a drink of water. "Mama and Papa fought the Cylons, and we all fought the Ap-Fraks. They fought the Skath too, I imagine." Which brings him up to present day, and his face sobers. "Dead now, I expect. What did your folks do?"

"I will take hard and free. This life has taken a lot to get used to. I am scared," she admits quietly. "But I am confident I will also find my way. I realized I will not always be lost here. And I can ask for help or direction. So while I am scared now? This is why I train." Emily's voice does have a modicum of pride to it. She'll get there! Its a tough climb for anyone. The idea that his parents fought the Cylons is met with a blink, though. But.. right. Yes. There is some time mystery involved with the ship. "I have been learning more of these Cylons. And this APF. Much of this training is knowledge I did not expect to learn. I am sorry for your loss, but perhaps it is better to fight than to give in." She drinks down a gulp of her coffee and shakes her head. "I never met my father. He left before I were born. My mother died when I were eight. The Clerics decided that she would be more useful as a Queen that did not question the Skath and believed I was adopted. So I consider my mother to have died many years ago. My only family left is Mister Rance Hood. He is my grandfather, though I find it better to think of him as my father. In his regard? He is a civilian contractor." Leander is probably well aware of whom Rance is.

Leander chuckles darkly and gives Emily a pointed look. "You think you're scared now, what until there's a pack of Skath shooting at you." Sure she's on a life journey, but if she's going to be a Marine that is where it's headed. Then he goes back to eating, looking up to offer a grateful noise when in return for her condolences. "Thanks. That's how my family lived." To fight and not to give in. To imagine anything other than 'they died fighting' is unthinkable to the young Marine. Emily's own story is given a skeptical look, and then Leander shakes his head at her mother's fate. "Damn." And then it's his turn to blink in surprise. "The Seven? That Rance Hood … is your Grandpa?"

"I have seen the Machines use their weapons of war against people. It is one of the many things the Clerics ensured I would forget, so I could live innocently and be pure. It would seem I am more docile when I believe in the Metal." Emily says it with a rather low opinion of that whole 'handling' of her. She finishes up the breakfast and drowns it in her coffee, slowly rising. "Yes, so the tests and evidence suggests. His daughter has the same name as my mother did. A test to my blood says that a Seven is my maternal grandfather. While there could be some potential doubt, I believe we choose to find each other regardless. I welcome a father, he has own failures with my mother that he wants to make up for. I believe that I am better understanding the concept of choosing my family here." She smiles, taking up her tray. "Thank you for the words." She dips her head in respect and moves off. There are books to read and miles to run today.

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