Delilah's Awakening

Wires and Pregnancy - IC Time: April 10, 2518

2008-05-06T16:01:19Z

This log will have to be updated later, as I seem to be missing the end of it.

The cockpit of the Compass looked like a slowly corroding monument to a post-apocalyptic junkworld not two days ago. Today it looks like a jungle. Every surface or surface-like space available is strung with multi-coloured wires of what may be hundreds of makes and functions. Nestled amidst the wires at seemingly odd intervals are circuit boards, their gold wiring inlaid into their green, purple and blue surfaces adding to the visual noise. It is from somewhere within this mass that the unmistakable sound of zip-ties being secured can be heard, and close inspection would find Ashlyn almost literally buried in the mess, half way inside a section of the flight controls, the panel usually barring entry to the ship's innards lost somewhere under the wiring. Every now and then the sounds are punctuated by the soft 'snap' of an electric soldering iron turning on and off.

Cid appears at the doorway to the cockpit, leaning against it with a hand. It takes him a moment to realize just where Ashlyn is amid the electrical debris, and that draws a smile from his scarred face. "Hey," he says to the moving pile of wires under the console with the two feet sticking out from under it, "I finished that last bit on the pulsar monitor. Got anythin' else unskilled labor can do?"

Delilah pokes her head inside from just outside the door, standing next to Torres. Her expression looks mournful. "I jus' got a WAVE from my Pa," she sighs. A personal PDA is waved in the air, as though to offer proof of this statement. "He says he's sick with the flu, he's makin' travel 'rangements for yer weddin', an' he wants ta know iffn' he'll be havin' any granbabies soon." She slumps against the door. The wiring jungle is lost on her. "What are y'all doin'?"

"Really?" Ashlyn asks toward Cid. "We'll be outta here sooner'n I thought!" She scoots out of the console, which seems to have some kind of portable illumination somewhere inside of it as once she's out of the way, a soft yellow glow eminates from within. She has a soldering iron in one hand, and her pockets are filled with zip ties. "Um... you know how ta re-wire a console?" At Delilah's mournful expression in conjuction with her mentioning a WAVE from Lilac, Ashlyn stiffens, but seems to visibly relax as the story comes out. "Oh, jeeze Del, for a minute I thought ya were `bout ta say somethin' `bout..." She doesn't finish the thought with 'reavers' but the word very nearly hangs in the air. "Fixin' up the flight controls. Wouldn't do ta have everthin' workin' but no way ta use it," she explains with a grin.

Cid turns to Delilah, eyes narrowed in seeming bemusement at her mood. "So, your pappy wants grandkids so bad he'll take anybody's?" Pause for thought. Practical thought. "Heck, I'll help ya," he murmurs as he looks aside. "Might help ta ask Lu first, but knowin' her, wouldn't be surprised she said 'yes'. Practical woman, that one." In reply to Ashlyn, Cid shakes his head. "Never done that before. I can zip-tie somethin' fierce though."

Ashlyn hooks her thumb toward the tangles mess beneith the console she's just vacated, the left half carefully secured in bundles, while the right half resembled nothing more than a rat's nest of cables and wires. "S'a good skill ta have," she says to his zip-tying ability. "Gotta be able ta reach in there an' still be able ta get my hand out again," she says. At Delilah's reaction to Cid's words, she simply sits there amid the mess and watches curiously.

Cid folds his arms across his chest, leaning his shoulder against the doorway now. A smirk is cast Ashlyn's way before it's wiped off for something more nonchalant. "You want me ta make sense outta them wires," he says to Ashlyn, "just tell me where ya want 'em. I can do the rest." Looking askance at Delilah, Cid shrugs easily, goading, "It ain't rocket science, woman. Ya get a room, find a feller who's nice enough ta look at, wrestle in bed for as long as it takes, and, presto, bun inna oven."

"/Miya!/" Delilah hisses again, her eyes wide, her face pale, and her cheeks coloring in embarrassment. "Ya know I ain't like - don't ya? I mean, I thought, but then you said, an' now it's all...wrestle in bed?!" She gapes for another moment before starting again. "I don't wanna wrestle in bed! I wanna be with somebody what loves me an' thinks I'm the greatest thing in all the world, not somebody what I can tolerate lookin' at!" Giving a sideways glance to Ash, she takes a step forward and hisses once more, only this time at a much lower volume level. "Are you askin' fer me ta do /that/ with ya?!"

Burger, Bourbon, and Beer - IC Time: April 9, 2518

2008-05-06T15:56:11Z

============[The Scrapheap]=====================[Assam City - Boros]==========
Built into a towering, heaped mound of scrap, several narrow cargo containers converge on a central container. Doorways have been cut out with plasma torches and sheet metal has been welded to join one container to the next. The floors, walls and ceilings are rust-stained in rivulets and flaking at the joints. Bare halogen bulbs are suspended from the ceiling, a cable looping from one to the next in a line leading back to a singular power source.

The furnishings are improvised from salvage out of the junkyards and tables are often nothing more than upturned crates, with smaller crates, or occasionally a ripped out jumpseat, serving as chairs. The bar is set across the entrance to one of the adjoining containers and appears to be constructed from an entire flight console.
==============================================================================

Delilah wanders into the bar, making a face and scrunching her nose at the cloud of smoke. Looking really out of place in a plain white tank top and skirt, she tiptoes to the counter timidly and begins asking the bartender various questions about his bourbon stores. It seems the Compass crew is having bourbon chicken for dinner tonight - if Dela can figure out the right kind of bourbon to cook with.

Lucinda follows Delilah, though her steps are a bit more hesitant which usually occurs when Lucinda enters a public place. At least she's been here before, and knows a bit what to expect. The antibacterial gel is still drying on her hands.

Ashlyn looks just as out of place wandering in behind Delilah, not a usual denizen of bars, either, it seems. She approaches the bar with a little more confidence than the cook and doctor, at least. The flight console-turned-bar seems to warrant more attention than the alcohol behind it, however, as she steps up beside Delilah, tapping the machinery with her fingertips as she settles against it, watching to see if for some novelty reason any part of it remains active. At a pause in Del's questioning, she catches the bartender's eye with a small wave, already drawing a crumpled dollar bill out of her pocket. "Can I have a cola?" she asks before turning to the rest of the crew. "Anyone else want somethin'?"

Sujiko enters the bar last, admiring the... architecture? It's a little more grungy than he's used to as of late, but it doesn't bother him terribly. "'m all set for now," he replies to Ash. His hands get shoved in his pocket, and he follows after the others.

Delilah sneaks a look at Ash with a grin as she pokes at the counter, but she quickly snaps back and focuses on the bartender as he comes up with apparently the correct kind of bourbon for cooking. Money is exchanged, and Delilah turns back around to survey the room while Ash gets her cola and Suji and Lu are noticed. "Y'all wantin' ta hang 'round?" she asks.

Lucinda fishes in a pocket of the jeans she's still holding hostage from Delilah, pulling out a credit chit. "I'll have the same, a cola." At least she doesn't insult the establishment by insisting it come in a sealed-by-the-manufacturer container. No no, she learned her lesson last time. Seeming how its either hang out at the bar, or return to the ship for more work, the choice is clear. "I am content with whatever everyone else chooses." Deflection for the win.

Ashlyn accepts the cola from the bartender, nodding to Sujiko as he turns down the offer to buy something. "Fer a moment, maybe," she offers Delilah and Lucinda. "I ain't never been here b'fore. We ain't in a rush, are we?" she asks. The looks she gives the alcohol Delilah orders is reminiscent of someone studying a strange bug they've never encountered before which may or may not be the unfriendly kind loaded with pincers and stingers. But like all things food related, she's more than content to simply trust in Delilah's judgment.

Sujiko shrugs. "I ain't in no hurry," he says. "If'n we're stayin' I might jus' have somethin' after all." He doesn't order yet, though, and instead waits for the consensus of the others.

Delilah inspects her bottle of bourbon as well, frowning as she does so. "Guy said it were good fer cookin', an' ta save the rest fer the worst night of my life. 'Parently it's good fer curin' heartache." She beams, not having had a drop of alcohol in her life. "I think they got food here, too," she adds, glancing behind her to look for menus. "Iffn' anybody's hungry. I ain't been ta the market yet, there ain't much lunchtype food on ship. I can't vouch fer the food, but it's gotta be a sight better'n those vendors what sell fer a day an' then pack up an' move on." She grins and plops into a bar stool, never mind that it's likely filthy and she's wearing white. "Least here iffn' they make somebody sick, they'll be here ta deal with the person the next day."

Lucinda smiles as politely as possible as her cola is delivered, blissfully in the can. She taps the top a few times with one of her perfectly manicured and very short nails, before cracking open the tab to release a hiss of carbonation. "I have nothing to hurry back for." She answers Ash's possibly rhetorical question. But as to lunch, she declines with a shake of her head. Its enough that she's mentally recalling everyone's medical charts to confirm they are current on tetanus shots, risking actually /eating/ here would be too much.

The fact that Ashlyn is actually agreeable to stopping for a minute to procure eat is suggestive of one of two things: The ship is almost ready to lift off, or the ship is so far from being repaired that she's finally decided there's no reason to work to the point of starving herself. "Maybe somethin' ta go then?" she suggests, looking up at the menu. "Like some grilled cheese sandwiches or some burgers?" She looks to the crew for some kind of yay or nay on that as she sips her cola. She continues to eye Delilah's bottle of alcohol warily. "I think I'd trust aspirin more," she offers to it's reputed headache cure.

Looking around at his surroundings, Sujiko seems unkeen at the thought of having grilled cheese from such a place, let alone a burger. "I'ma jus' have a beer I think," he says. "Don't need nothin'a eat." He leans on the bar and looks over at Delilah's bottle of alcohol. "'s a mighty big thing o' liquor," he comments. "Reckon it might cure more'n a headache the looks o' it. Might be a right shiny cure fer consciousness, too."

Delilah starts to grin at Lu, but her smile gets brighter when she realizes that Lu is still wearing the clothes she borrowed from Dela. "How's those jeans fit, Lu?" she asks with a wink. Ashlyn and Suji get a look of confusion as she clarifies, "Nah, he said it would cure heartache, silly, not headaches. Far as I know, it'll jus' give ya a headache, not cure it." Swirling around on the stool, she beams at the bartender. "Can Ash an' I see a menu?" she asks, completely excited at the prospect of eating food that is unlikely to be puppies. "We might be gettin' a cheeseburger. Beef burger, I mean. Cow. Moo?"

The bartender just blinks.

Lucinda lowers her chin just a bit, her loose hair partially obscuring a face that is touched by a light blush at Delilah's question. "Just fine, thankyou." All in all, Lucinda finds them too tight, but she would never complain. Besides, others haven't either. "I should see about buying some of my own...appropriate clothing." Egads, she's contemplating owning something other than knit sweaters and trousers. "You know, heartache, otherwise known as Acute Stress Cardiomyopathy is an actual medically proven condition." She says, offhandley, before sipping her soda.

"'ll have a beer," Sujiko requests, paying little mind to girl talk, and smirking only when Lucinda, not unlike himself on occasion, finds herself living and breathing her profession. He waits in quiet bemusement as the bartender wanders off to fetch him a beer, and returns moments later. "Thanks," Sujiko says, handing over a few bills.

Delilah accepts the menus as Suji gets his beer, and she wrinkles her nose at him while looking over the food quickly. "What's that taste like, Suji?" she asks. "Anytime I've smelled it, it smells awful." Wait. Did Lu just mention clothes shopping? On her own? "Really, Lu?" Delilah marvels. "I...could take ya shoppin' iffn' ya wanted? I think you'd look awful nice in some kinda red..."

Lucinda was actually happier talking about the health implications of 'broken heart syndrome' but, alas, Delilah runs with the former topic. "I would like your company, yes. As well as your imput. I'm afraid I'm never quite sure what will allow me to 'fit in' more appropriately. A male opinion would be preferable as well, but not Torres. He's biased." She even smiles slightly this time.

Sujiko takes a swig of his beer, and makes a face that seems to suggest it's not incredible. "'bit like piss," he says, looking at the bottle and taking another swig, the face this time a little bit less pronounced. He avoids the bartender's gaze, realizing that he's still standing right there, but the man doesn't seem to mind. It's not hns beer, after all. "'s good if'n ya' like the sort o' thing."

Ashlyn grins at Lucinda claims of Torres being biased. The rest of the crew might be put off by the dubious sanitation of a bar literally made from trash, but Ashlyn seems rather indifferent. "Can I get a grilled cheese sandwhich, too?" she asks, laughing a little at the description of the taste of beer. The bartender nods and barks something toward the carco crate making up the back room behind the bar where presumably the kitchen is located. "An' that's why I still just order cola, she says back to Sujiko as she hops up on a ratty barstool and futzes with the straw in her drink. She eyes Lucinda up and down. "Well, I ain't much fer fashion, but I think green might suit ya more'n red." Said the girl who generally looks like a walking colour explosion.

Lucinda wrinkles her nose at all these conflicting color opinions. "And I suppose black and grey are going to be off-limits? What about a nice blue?" She offers, that color of course being that of the scrubs she tends to wear when operating. Nothing like sticking with what you know.

"Don't see nothin' wrong with blues," Sujiko comments, referring to his own blue polo. Though it'd be a bit misleading to refer to Sujiko as a fashion expert, he doesn't come off as entirely unpresentable. "'less there's somethin' 'bout yer eyes or somethin'," he half mumbles, looking to Delilah who clearly knows more on the topic. "There a rule 'bout that?" he asks, taking another swig from his beer.

"Ain't no rule," Delilah explains, wrinkling her nose again at Suji's description of beer as pee. "Jus' think that girls with dark hair tend ta look good in red. Blue's good too, Lu." She surveys Lucinda thoughtfully. "But it'd need ta be a good blue color, not somethin' grey-blue. Somethin' ta bring out color in yer hair." She laughs as she asks the bartender for a cheeseburger and no fries. "M'not really an expert with clothes," she adds, "I jus' like 'em. An' I know with my hair, there's colors I can wear an' colors I can't. Suppose it's stuff ya learn when yer lookin' ta find menfolk what are attracted ta ya fer when ya want a husband." There it is, that topic again. "I hafta say, other'n boys wantin' their mothers ta meet new girls an' dark menfolk with good watermelons, this'd hafta be one'a the most borin' planets we ever been on."

Lucinda frowns slightly, "There is no blue in my hair." The statement is simple, concise, and as if Lucinda vehemently believes in it. "And I found Jonas pleasant." There. That's about all she needs to refute of Delilah's. Next her attention turns to Sujiko, as if she just -might- have something to add about the comparison of beer to urine. But thankfully her brain filters the comment out as 'impolite for casual conversation' so she just ends up starring blankly at the man.

Ashlyn chuckles at the whole exchange as a very greasy looking grilled cheese sandwhich arrives without ceremony beside her soda. "What's colours gotta do with..." she starts asking, looking entirely confused by Delilah's ascertation. "I mean colors is just colors. Wear one on the opposite side a the wheel ta make another color look brighter, an.." Here she gives up again, obviously as much a fashion expert as she is a food expert. To proove a stark point to that last she takes a bite of the sandwhich and looks like she actually enjoys it. "The /both/ a you should take Bishop out ta buy a tux," she says, looking like she's trying hard not to laugh at the image.

The sudden realization washes over Sujiko like the conclusion of a bad day with a faulty high-pressure hose. Bishop... in a tuxedo. Taking another sip of his beer, he seems to find the image just as amusing as Ashlyn does. "He gonna get all fancified?" A broad grin spreads across Sujiko's features. "There's gonna be pictures, ain't there?" His expression grows slightly more mischievous. "There better be."

"Oh, he'll be fancified, an' there'll be pictures," Delilah beams some more. "I'ma make sure of both of those things." She looks smug, like she's talking about climbing a high mountain, or cooking an incredibly difficult meal. Her cheeseburger arrives as well, and she's so busy looking proud of herself, she doesn't even give the grease a second glance as she bites into it. "Is too blue in yer hair, Lu," she confirms around a mouthful of food. "Jus' gotta find the colors ta highlight it. An' Ash, fer example, iffn' I wear red, it makes my hair look brown. Iffn' I wear purple or green, it looks real red. Jus' color stuff I learned long ago, I guess."

Lucinda is still frowning over the implication that there is blue in her hair. She's not that old, dammit. At the talk of wedding things overtakes the group, she goes back to the contemplation of her cola, and generally sips at it in an effort to finish it in perfectly measured time with everyone else in their group who is drinking. Wouldn't do to finish too early and be left without a drink, or have the others waiting on her if she takes too long. "Have you set a date yet?" She asks, because that's one of those things you're supposed to ask.

"Oh, if I gotta wear a dress, he's gotta wear a tux," Ashlyn says, taking another bite of her sandwich. She takes a minute to chew so she doesn't have to talk around the bite. "Well, I `magine there'll be photos. It's a weddin' after all. Why, ain't you gonna be there?" At that last she sounds a little upset at the thought that Sujiko might miss her wedding. She shrugs to Lucinda. "Summer. Or when the ship can fly again. Whichever comes second I guess. I don't think anyone'd wanna attend one held in the cargo hold in the middle of a junk maze." The sudden far off look that washes over her might suggest that she's actually giving the idea a thought, however.

Sujiko shakes his head. "Naw, 'course I'ma be there," he says. "Jus' wanna' make sure th' options o' blackmail are open." He shrugs. "Ya' know. Jus' in case." He must be teasing, but he seems quite serious as he takes another swig of his beer.

"Uhhh..." Delilah sputters, panicking at the look Ashlyn gets in her eyes. "No, no. Nobody would wanna attend one held in a cargo hold in the middle of a junk maze, yer right." She eyes her cheeseburger, because clearly, it's the burger's fault all her careful planning is about to go right down the drain. "Ship's really gonna take that long ta get flyin'?" she asks anxiously.

Lucinda ventures. "Can we afford a bit of outside help?" Of course such suggestions maybe blasphamy like someone else tinkering under the hood of your classic car. "Shipyards are better equipped to handle the massive overhauls at a quicker pace."

Ashlyn seems to let the idea go with Delilah's agreement that weddings are not to be held in an ancient ship's storage space. "I'll give everbody cameras," she tells Sujiko with a nod. "Though ain't gonna be much good fer blackmailin' if all a us got copies anyhow. If ya really want some compromising shots, y'all should throw hm a bachelor party." She nods definatively as if it's perfectly acceptable to help someone obtain blackmail oportunities of their dearest loved one. "Oh, it's almost done..." she says slowly. "It's mostly the wirin' in the flight console needs some work. The rest works, it just... ain't pretty. I'd like everthin' ta be in perfect order `fore we even try and touch off. An' we got that man, Ace, helpin' us, too. Don't think it should take too terrible long." The ship has of course been informed of the man's presence by this point.

Sujiko can't help but snort at Ash as he finishes off the rest of his beer. "Might be I'll talk t' Cid 'bout seein what we can cook up," he muses, glancing for a moment to Lu. She may, after all, object to Torres at a bachelor party. "Anyways." He slides the empty bottle away from himself and pushes off his stool. "Speakin' o' fixin', I'ma go see'f there's somethin' I can't do t' 'xpediate the process."

Delilah gulps down her response at the mention of a bachelor party and asks innocently instead, "How's Ace doin', anyways? Ain't got a chance ta meet 'im yet." She seems extremely relieved that the relocation of the wedding has been abandoned.

Lucinda slides her strategically empty soda can on the bar next to Suji's bottle. "I'll walk with you." She offers, or more or less invites herself along.

Lucinda also apparently has no opinion on Torres attending the bachelor party. Maybe she doesn't know that she should have formed one by now.

Ashlyn nods, quickly finishing her soda and popping the last of her sandwich into her mouth. "Sure, sure," she says to mention of continuing work on the ship, standing, and making to follow Sujiko and Lucinda. "Ace? Just spoke with him yesterday. Seemed a'ight, spoke `bout joinin' the crew maybe, but I was waitin' on him meetin' the rest a the crew at least." She nods to the door as if to say she's leaving if that's not obvious, and the conversation can continue as they walk.

Jonas and the Watermelon - IC Time: April 1, 2518

2008-05-06T15:49:02Z

Ashlyn is in exactly the state of disrepair she threatened to go out in, and seemingly entirely unconcerned with the state she's in, most of her exposed skin save for her hands smeared with the accumulative much and grime built up in the life support system over the years. Her black tank top and tan shorts are somewhat less stained, but certainly not clearing 'presentable.' Her hands rest easily in her pockets as the crew makes their way toward the market beyond the Barrens.

Lucinda is in her borrowed jeans and tank top, but still manages to stick out like a sore thumb in some painful way, like her steps are too measured, her back too straight, her smile too practiced. As it stands, she's affixed a polite little one to her lips, which shows no teeth and is barely friendly. She's insisted on bringing her medic pack with her, though the flap is turned to obscure the giant blaring red cross on the side. Thank heaven for little miracles. "I still don't understand the benefit of going miles out of our way just to avoid one man and his produce stand." Was that a complaint? Sure sounded like a complaint.

Delilah half snickers as she practically skips along in her thin yellow and pink skirt, still in the green t-shirt with the smiling strawberry naming her a 'Strawberry Girl'. "Cuz we ain't jus' avoidin' him, we're avoidin' his Momma an' all the rest a his family what have 'pparently decided I'm the girl fer him." She squints in the sun and raises a hand to shield her eyes, trying to remember the way. "I think we're supposed ta go this way," she muses, pointing to a path through the scrap on the right. "I guess it's jus' a local thing, not many visitors come by, so there's lotsa good stuff an' contacts ta be made." It's the contacts Delilah's most excited about, since it's rather hard to find good produce people who ship.

Ashlyn looks in the direction Delilah motions to, pausing for a moment to check her mental map before nodding that it does /seem/ like the right way to head. "All that decided in the space a helpin' you cart groceries?" she says with a slight grin. "You must a made /some/ impression." She pulls her hands out of her pockets, holding her arms wide to balance herself as she walks along a narrow bit of junk running parallel with the path. "I take it he's /not/ invited back once everthin's up an' runnin'?" The slight grin grows a little as she looks over at Delilah, swaying a little as she takes her eyes off her feet.

Lucinda follows after, apparently not having an opinion on which way they should go. Afterall, they're probably better off with Lu not forming one. Otherwise, she might drive them all systematically mad. "For a woman so intent on finding someone to marry, you certainly are picky, Delilah." This all said matter of factly. Maybe's not a good time to point out she has two brothers. Last time Delilah hooked up with a crewmember's sibling, he died in a splatted mess.

Alice enters the Barrens from the direction of the spaceport.
Alice has arrived.

Delilah grins at Ash and continues leading the way. "I think it was more that I ain't from 'round here, an' so I guess all t'other girls had turned him down." She shrugs. "He was cute enough. He jus'...didn't quite have 'it'." When she hears Lu comment on her pickiness, her mouth hangs open for a moment, and it seems like she's hurt - but wait! Delilah's growing as a person! Here comes an unexpected smile. "Yer right, Lu, I am," she laughs at herself. "I don't really wanna have a boyfriend, I wanna husband. An' there ain't no sense in pickin' somebody who don't meet everythin' ya want on yer list iffn' yer plannin' on bein' with 'em fer life." She nods seriously and affirms, "God will send me my husband when I'm ready." This causes her to look behind the group quickly and then glance forward. Who knows, maybe her future husband could have been following them quietly. God works in mysterious ways.

A distance up whatever street the group is walking along is Sujiko, unaware of their presence. He appears to be talking to someone in a casual manner. It may be of note that he seems to have actually found new clothes, and is now dressed in something a bit more casual and a bit less messy, as he's not yet been glomped by messy girls. He doesn't notice the others yet, being faced the wrong way.

How long, though will Suji's close remain clean is the real question. Delilah might be as immaculate as usual, but Ashlyn is pretty well and truely coated in muck and goo of an unidentifiable origin. Only time will tell if an unexpected flying hug is in order. She walks along beside the group, balancing precariously on a bit of junk running parallel the path, her arms outstretched and wavering slightly as she focuses on anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. She grins at the exchange between the other two women before spotting Sujiko further up the path. Lucky for him, it's less a flying hug and more of an engergettinc wave, which sends the small captain sliding right off the bit of wreakage, though this time more gracefully than the last. "Hey, Suji!" she calls ahead of them.

Lucinda continues on with the pair of crewmates, their group apparently picking up another member as they weave through the junk heaps on the way to the town proper. The way they are talking, their either in the market for produce or men, though likely either will have to depend on how good the crop is this year. "Marriage does not have to conform to a set list of standards. It can, in fact, be as simple as a matter of convenience." Speaking from personal experience much? "For a person to find 'the one' in a 'Verse with a population staggering in the billions is a statistical inprobability." The attempt is not to hurt Delilah's feelings of course, but to bring her around to a logical viewpoint, because that's just how Lu rolls.

One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong. And its easy to spot, sticking out among the regular run of the population like a beacon; a young girl struggling along with a large duffle bag slung around her shoulders as she's jostled back and forth by the crowd. "Oh! E-excuse me! Pardon me. H-hey! Ouch!" the high-pitched, cartoonish voice of the girl as she repeatedly apologizes for the people she runs into (or, more accurately, run into her -- few seem particularly willing to alter their course to get around the flailing young woman). Alice definitely looks lost and out of place.

Far from hurting Delilah's feelings, the comment makes her perk up and respond energetically. "But that's kinda the point, Lu. I mean, I believe there's one guy out there fer me, an' I don't know where he is er who he is, what he looks like er what kinda life he's livin'. But I believe that God can do the impossible an' bring that 'One' person in my life no matter how improbable that is. I jus' gotta live my life right an' be the kinda woman he needs, an' sooner or later, I'll find him." She'd probably go on explaining her various views on soulmates and God, but she notices both Sujiko and the flailing girl at the same time. "Do we know that girl? An' I wonder what Suji's doin' out here?" She waves in the direction of them both, for Suji to see them and to greet the girl, just in case they do know her. Delilah doesn't want to be rude!

Sujiko, standing quietly and looking fairly relaxed given his prediciment, turns when he hears his name and adopts a broad smile when he sees the group. The smile fades only slightly when he sees Ashlyn in particular, looking like she just got out of fighting something that must also be very dirty. He looks back to the man he was talking to, shaking his hand and excusing himself. "'ey there!" he calls, distracted for a moment by a strange girl carrying an oversized duffle bag.

Ashlyn regains her footing a little ungracefully in the hard packed dirt. "/I/ did it," she offers Lucinda with a lopsided grin before hearing the shouts coming from the market ahead. She looks at Delilah waving at the person, and, possibly figuring that Delilah has met her previously, directs a wave to her as well before turning to the former captian (who needen't be worried, attack hugs generally only befall those unprepared for them). "We was just headed out fer supplies," she says by way of explaining their presence.

Alice catches a glimpse of the waving, her brow furrowing in mild confusion. Amid the contained chaos of the dirt-packed street, the girl looks behind her and to the sides before the corners of her lips curl upwards into a nervous, twitchy smile and she raises a hand to awkwardly wave back. Glancing over her shoulder again, the blonde trundles her way through the crowd towards the group, muttering more apologies as she squeezes through the crowd with her unwieldy cargo. Panting with exertion after finally having gotten close enough for conversation, another nervous, twitchy smile flickers to life on Alice's features and she pushes the glasses up on her face, "Uhm... h-hello there?"

Lucinda glances to Ashlyn. "Did what?" She asks, obviously missing the implied notion that Ashlyn found her soul mate. But of course that conversation just may have to be put on hold as the skittish lost girl becomes more of a pressing issue. "Spaceport is that way." Lucinda points, in quite the wrong direction at that. Making the assumption of course that all lost wayward people are merely looking for the fastest way /off/ the rock on which they now stand. So Lucinda's not what you would call a 'people person'. But she adds, "Have a nice day." See. She's getting better.

"Umm...hi!" Delilah chirps at the new girl while moving over to hug Suji tightly. "It's Ash's birthday," she whispers in his ear as she does so. And a bit louder: "We're buyin' watermelons an' avoidin' dumb boys!" She steps back with a grin and straightens her skirt before peering back at Alice again. "Do we know ya? I'm sorry, I jus' ain't recognizin' ya." She looks back at Lu and chimes back, "Yeah, Ash did it, I can too!"

Sujiko smiles. "Howdy," he says to Alice. His eyes grow a little wider when she hears what Delilah whispers to him, but doesn't let any more than that show. "Watermelons?" he asks. "Whatcha' need them for?" He pauses. "And you sayin' fellers're dumb an' y'er avoidin' 'em, or that you's avoidin' the dumb fellers?" He offers a friendly smile to Alice, stealing a quick glance up the road.

Ashlyn looks at Delilah, then back to Alice appologetically. "Guess we don't," she says with a grin, holding out her hand to shake. Her hands at least are free of grime as if they were the only this she bothered to wash before leaving the ship. "Didn't mean ta assist in summonin' ya o'er on false accounts. Name's Ashlyn. Ya look lost." She looks over at Sujiko. "Del's gotten a boy ta fall head o'er heels right for her," she says with a grin, laughing a little.

The look of mild confusion deepens on Alice's features as Lucinda points towards the Spaceport. "Are... a-are you sure?" the girl asks dubiously, "I mean, I j-just came from the Spaceport and I'm pretty sure it's n-not that way. Mind you I've, er... I've g-gotten a bit turned around." The blonde girl glances nervously over her shoulder again before turning back to Delilah and blinking. "Oh, er... n-no. No, I d-don't think so. I mean, I've only j-just arrived here and all, but, uh... you were waving at me? I-I... I thought..." Alice's voice fades off as she frowns faintly, rubbing the back of her head, "Actually, I'm not s-sure what I thought, exactly. But it seemed rude not to come, er... investigate." Again, the blonde glances over her shoulder briefly at the crowd. Alice turns back as Ashlyn speaks, a string of nervous, coquettish laughter bubbling up from the blonde, "Oh! P-pleased to meet you, Ashlyn. I'm Alice. It was just a misunderstanding, after all. Er." The girl hesitates, looking down at the offered hand before taking it and smiling lopsidedly, "Uh, yeah. Well. Not lost, exactly. Just... j-just out of my element, I guess."

Lucinda gives a look to Ashlyn that should convey 'she's not lost, I /just/ showed her the way to the spaceport', but really all it looks like is Lu's staring at her Captain with a blank expression. She really hasn't gotten that whole nonverbal communication thing down. Let's refer back to Exhibit A, of the Persephone Winter Whosiwhatsit Ball. Frownie face thumbs down mean bad. Her gaze then swivels back to Alice, the doctor's eyes narrowing slightly. Perhaps she's just mentally recounting the ways she can fix the girl's stutter. For now, Lu falls silent.

Delilah gives Alice the wide-eyed look of sweetness and puppies. "Aww, honey, don't worry 'bout it!" she reassures. "I heard ya say excuse me, an' assumed ya were talkin' ta us. Ain't no big deal at all. Where are ya tryin' ta go? Ash's got a map!" She turns to excitedly point to Ashlyn and said map and hears Ash tell Suji about her exchange with Ryan. "He ain't over his feet fer me!" she protests greatly. "I jus' had him carry home some bags an' he was talkin' 'bout how his Momma liked me an' his Momma this an' his Momma that. It was real creepy an' he was dumb as a box a rocks, CapnSu- Suji. Sir." She blinks a few times and tries to pretend like she didn't just say what she said.

Sujiko can't help but snicker at Delilah. "Cap'n Su- Suji Sir?" he repeats, amused. "Well, ya' got one of 'em right, anyway," he teases. "'lilah's got a feller after 'er, eh?" he asks. "Seems a nice reversal o' situations, don't it?" he asks rhetorically, apparently amused with teasing Delilah. "Dumb's a box though, yeah, can't rightly say I'd go fer a feller like that neither."

Ashlyn notes Alice glancing over her shoulder repeatedly and casts her gaze over in the same direction briefly before looking back at the woman. "Somethin' wrong?" she asks. When Delilah informs the gathered that she's in possession of a map, she shakes her head and taps her temple. "Just what I seen," she says. "Unless you mena that scrap I got with directions on it?" She grins remembering how truely useless the little diagram of the scrapyard was. She snickers at Sujiko as she lets her eyes scan over the shops visible between the throngs of people. "I'd hope not, ghuh-ghuh," she says with a grin before looign back at Alice.

"Trying to go?" Alice asks, blinking twice again before once more looking over her shoulder briefly, "Well, er... n-no where in particular, really. I guess I'm looking for a place to stay for a few days. But m-most places on this planet are too pub-- are too expensive. Or, er... d-don't exactly inspire confidence in their security." Alice casts a glance at Ashlyn and blinks, shifting her weight uneasily on her feet and swaying back and forth as if pushed by a faint breeze, "Wrong? No, no. Nothing... nothing is wrong, why?"

Lucinda tilts her head slightly to the side, still observing Alice. "Are you on drugs?" She asks bluntly, in a purely clinical way of course. She's a doctor, she can do these things. Just like when she asks men to drop trou, she expects them to follow orders. Also for purely clinical reasons, mind you.

Delilah blushes when Suji teases her, a lovely shade of red. "I ain't got a feller after me!" She grumbles at a lower tone, "Can't be after me iffn' he can't find me." Fluffing her red hair in a flustered way, she mumbles some more, "An' see, Suji agrees, boys who are dumb aren't the way ta go." She sighs and is inspecting men who pass, as though looking for the telltale 'D' on their foreheads that give the stupid ones away, when Lu asks the new girl if she's on drugs. Delilah leans forward ever so slightly and peers hard at the girl - maybe she is on drugs. Delilah wouldn't know, but Lucinda would, being a professional. Curious stare, commence.

Nodding sagely is the only thing Sujiko can do to surpress more than a snort of laughter at Lucinda's question. "Definitely," is the only thing he says, and it's directed to Delilah. Dumb boys are most certainly not an option. In silent amusement, he shoves his hands in his pockets and watches Alice for her reply.

Ashlyn tilts her chin in the direction Alice glances. "Ya normally look o'er yer shoulder ever five seconds?" she asks with a slight relaxed smile. "But I won't pry if ya don't want me to. An' no, the motels hereabouts don't generally employ much security." She looks over at Delilah with a grin. "Or sound insulation," she ads.

Alice's attention snaps to Lucinda and she looks like she's been smacked across the face. "I beg your pardon?" she asks, clearly shocked by the blunt statement, "Of course not!" She hesitates a moment then adds sheepishly, "Well, there probably was some immunization suppliments in that Fruity Oats bar I had the other day, I g-guess. But I don't... that doesn't count!" The blonde grimaces slightly, "Mind you, I w-wish they would improve the taste of those things. It was like eating dirt in a wrapper. It -can't- be that difficult." Alice's nervous figeting becomes more pronounced as she becomes the focus of scrutiny, her eyes darting back and forth nervously. She shrinks back into herself, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets, gnawing on her lower lip. "It... it's not every five seconds," Alice mutters defensively, though she apparently can't resist another flurtive glance over her shoulder anyway, "I'm just... just looking for danger, that's all. Generic danger. Its dangerous out here, right?"

Lucinda glances to Ashlyn, deferring to her now that she's considered the boss lady. "She's not on drugs." She confirms definitively, in her honest medical opinion, as if taking the strangers word on it is sufficient. "Though I can't vouch for her mental state." She adds, as Alice declares that she's looking for generic danger. Suji, quick! Roll her for her valuables. Compass goes street thug. Word.

She's on drugs, she's not on drugs - Delilah is confused. "Generic danger?" she echoes, looking past Alice to the crowd of mostly harmless people behind her. "Is it dangerous here?" she asks the rest of the group, looking mostly to Suji for the answer. "I ain't had problems with nobody 'cept stupid boys, an' Lord knows iffn' anybody's gonna attract dangerous folk with hugs, it's gonna be me." She grins and points to the scrapyard they just left. "'Sides, ain't it all jus' junk here an' people what want that junk?"

Sujiko grins at Delilah. "Unfriendly types everywhere ya' go, I 'spect," he reasons. "Jus' depends what sort o' dangerous ya' mean." Awfully unspecific. "Don't reckon this place is quite so bad if'n ya' mean risk o' get'n mugged, though."

"Well, it ain't the Core, but it ain't Ezra, neither," Ashlyn says agreeably to both Alice and Delilah. "Ain't run inta any trouble here myself. But if yer so worried `bout it bein' here," she saysm her attention now back on Alice, "why come here all by yer lonesome?" She nods to Lucinda with a slight smile as she drops her hands back into her pockets.

"My mental state is fine!" Alice exclaims, flailing her arms out to the sides, "Why would you think I was crazy?" The blonde glances sidelong at Delilah, "Well... y-yes? I mean. Its supposed to be really bad out here on the Rim." How cute. She thinks Boros is the Rim. "There's n-not many Alliance troops around to keep everyone safe." Yes, besides that huge military base on Ares and all. Alice offers a lopsided smile at Sujiko and rubs the back of her head absently, "Oh, well. T-that's good news, I guess. At least that's one less thing to w-worry about." The blonde pushes her glasses up her nose and hesitates a moment at Ashlyn's question, "I, er... I wanted to see the universe. Travel for a bit, that's all. See the sights, y'know. It, uh, gets kinda boring Coreward."

Lucinda must assume that Alice's question as to her sanity is rhetorical, for the good doctor doesn't offer up an opinion on that matter any further. "Seeing the 'verse one trash heap at a time is a noble venture, but we were on our way to the Market. If you'll excuse us, or chose to see that too is entirely up to you. We need Watermelon. And Champagne. And possible a husband." As if this is a perfectly normal shopping list to be had. Who's the crazy one now?

Oh, hey, they were going to buy produce! Well, in the Suji/potential drug user excitement, Delilah had forgotten all about that. "Actually, we're goin' ta get a watermelon, an' champagne an' ice cream, an' I'm gonna look fer a potential husband, but I certainly ain't gonna buy one," she laughs. Ca - Suji, ya wanna come with us?" She turns and smiles warmly at Alice. "Ya wanna come with us, er do ya know where yer goin' now?" At least she hasn't tried to hug her yet.

Sujiko watches as Delilah explains the task they're attempting to accomplish, quirking a brow in curiosity at the mention of finding a potential husband. "Funny way o' goin' 'bout it," he says, mostly to himself. "I'd like t' come, but I gotta' get back t' the ship. Some things I needa' put right with m' business an' all." With a grin, and a "nice t' meetcha', miss" to Alice, he starts back off in the direction of the Compass.

A wide smile crosses Ashlyn's features. "Borin'," she repeats. "Well, can't abide by that." She nods definatively. Seeming to decide that the paranoia is merely a by-product of growing up in the core, she begins sidling past the group to get a better look at the market proper, as Lu does, grinning. "Does seem like a strange place ta find yerself siteseein'. Just hoppin' shuttles from planet ta planet, then?" she asks Alice as she begins moving to follow the doctor. She turns as Sujiko excuses himself, raising one hand to wave. "Bye, ghuh-ghuh!" she calls after him, though she seems rather unhappy he won't be joining their finding-Delilah-a-husband field trip.

Alice stares blankly at Lucinda for a moment before Delilah qualifies the statement. The girl lets out a string of coquettish laughter then smiles brightly at the invitation, "Oh, wow, sure! T-that'd be shiny, if you wouldn't mind me tagging along." A quick pause to look over her shoulder again. "I c-could definitely do with some food myself, so finding the market would be good in any case." She smiles pleasantly at Sujiko before folding her hands in front of her and giving a slight bow, "Likewise, sir. Good day to you." The girl then turns and hurries along with the group, struggling along with her duffle bag before nodding to Ashlyn, "Basically, yes. I don't really have a destination in mind or anything. I just... wander. I've b-been doing it for a little over two weeks now."

Lucinda gives a brief nod to Sujiko as he wanders off, accustomed to the ebb and flow of the crew at least somewhat now. "Actually, it is possible to purchase another human being, though the practice is frowned upon. I wouldn't rule out the possibility that you're 'true love' may be a slave. Tell me, is speaking english a prerequisite? Because I once ran across this data stream on the cortex where one could purchase a female of Russian decent for a bride. Maybe they had a male selection as well." Or maybe Delilah's 'one' actually lives in a third-world settlement, and needs to be adopted with the help of an overweight out-of-work actress. Just think. For the price of a cup of coffee a day, Del could have true love.

"Lu!" Delilah squeals, delightfully appalled. "I said I weren't gonna buy him, not that I couldn't. An' maybe he is a slave, but since I don't frequent places that have anythin' ta do with the slave trade, I'm not seein' how God's gonna put him in my way." Leading the way to the market once more, she giggles and remarks, "An' yes, speakin' English er Chinese is kinda preferable. Though I ain't the greatest at Chinese. But either way, I ain't thinkin' 'bout lookin' fer him on the black market er in the skinvids er anythin' like that. God'll send him ta me in His own time."

Far be it from Ashlyn to call that anything other than a great plan in and of itself. "Did that myself fer about two months," she says. "Back when I was nineteen." She doesn't look terribly older than that now beneith the grime which is at least only lightly applied to her face. "`Fore I ran outta money an' landed myself on Sujiko's ship." She nods back the way Sujiko left with a grin that seems almost ever-present in her blue eyes. She turns to Delilah as Lucinda offers up ideas. "You'd have ta clean up after him an' take him fer walks," she quips as she oozes between two people who shuffle into her way. You learn to flow around crouds when you're too small to break your own path through them. She smiles with Delilah's reaction as she stops short of the produce vendors and now turns to the cook for direction. This is not the captian's element any more.

Alice's eyebrows arch in surprise, "W-what? Slavery? You're... you're kidding right? I mean, the Alliance would put a s-stop to anything like that." Her expression of surprise melts into one of mild confusion, "But why would there even b-be a market? I mean... isn't that the sort of thing Companions are for?" The girl struggles to keep up with the rest of the group, not having the adept sense of Crowd Navigation that the good captian does. "I'm eighteen," Alice states with a bright grin, "Wow! He has a ship? That's awesome. I love space. I mean, I know l-lots of folks don't like the Great Void, but I love it. I could j-just stare at it for hours... majestic. And silent. So wonderfully silent. You can't even see the stars on a lot of worlds, due to the atmosphere." She pauses a moment then adds, "Pity in a few tens of billions of years all those points of light are going to burn out and all that'll be left is a slight increase in background radiation."

Lucinda eyes cant briefly towards Alice, who probably believes Reaver's don't exist either. But who is Lu to burst the woman's delusions, as she lives in a nice little bubble herself. A bubble where love is fiction, fact is king, and everyone worships a nice set of... "Melons!" ...manners.

Whatever Delilah's reaction to Alice's comments might have been at a different time, they're at the food stalls now, and that's all Dela's brain can focus on. "No, Lu, not those," she murmurs as she begins to weave in and out of stalls. "We're lookin' fer a very specific stand, with a very specific person behind it." She gets quiet as she looks around, at times surveying this fruit or that vegetable, as though filing away what crops are good and bad here for after they've found the main attraction. Finally, she stops in front of a stall which is covered in a blue cloth, and attended by a gigantic black man. In front of him is a huge assortment of tropical fruits - mangoes, bananas, papayas, and many others. Including some very ripe watermelons. "Are you...Jonas?" Delilah asks timidly, stepping forward and trying very hard to look at the man, not the fruit.

"Depends on who's askin'," the man replies warily. He doesn't look up from the book he's reading, and his voice has a slight British accent to it.

"Alliance don't got much hold past the border planets," Ashlyn says. "Might be as they could stop that kind a thing in the Core, but the rim's a might far outta it's reach. I may not be too keen on the Core, but I won't say stamping that out wouldn't be a good thing. Just ain't feasable." She looks around the market as Lucinda seems to catch sight of goal one of their shopping trip, raiseing a hand to shild her eyes. "Ship ain't Suji's," she continues to Alice. "She's mine. Used ta be I crewed on his ship, the Chaos Theory. All a us did. Well, what's left a us. So... ah, what is it ya /do/?" Funny. Sounds almost like a job interview. She stays a step behind Delilah as she seems to take them to a stall entirely at random, looking Jonas and his stand over once before turning back to Alice.

Alice's eyes widen when she sees Jonas. Huge hulking men manning fruit stands is more than she expected, apparently. While she steals a curious look at the cover of the book, she happily stands back with Ashlyn. No sense getting in the way now is there? "Excuse me?" the blonde asks, turning to Ashlyn, "I don't... oh, wait! Y-you mean, what is my vocation? Oh, er... I don't really have one at the moment." She purses her lips and looks down at the ground, brows furrowing and mutters to herself, "Oh dear, I g-guess I'm going to have to find one. Money won't last forever."

Lucinda starts inspecting the man's fruit, but not in an appreciative way as Delilah might. No, Lu's on the hunt for obvious signs of pestulance and blight. As the man speaks, she's drawn to him for a moment, looking for a moment like a school girl who just fell hard for the quarterback. The doctor clears her throat and goes back to examining the man's banana. Fruit. The man's fruit.

"Well, a boy named Ryan told me not ta talk ta ya, cuz he said yer produce was the worst 'round an' you were mean an' nasty." She pauses a moment, and then smiles. "An' since he's jus' 'bout the dumbest person I ever met, I figured what he meant was yer produce was better'n his, an' you were nice as pie." She beams and points to his watermelons. "An' I'll be darned iffn' these jus' ain't the nicest I seen since I left Lilac." She sticks out her hand and offers, "I'm Delilah. You can call me Dela or Deli or really whatever ya want."

Jonas catches Lu eyeing him and eyes her right back, until Delilah starts to speak and his mouth drops open and hangs there. He's silent for a few moments when she's done, but then he moves forward and laughs a deep, loud laugh. Ignoring her handshake, he scoops her up into a hug, and proclaims, "Well, darlin', anyone who calls Ryan Metcalf a dumb blockhead is a friend of mine!" Releasing her, he points to his crops and asks, "Which one would you like?" Lu is eyed once more. But subtly.

"Well..." Ashlyn says slowly, also letting her gaze wander over the fruit (yep, they're fruit all right). "Dependin' on what it is you can do, I might be in a place ta offer ya one." She raises one eyebrow neatly sliced in two by a pale scar seated directly at it's center as she waits for Alice's reaction to that. She catches Delilah being ambushed out of the corner of her eye, and her right hand lifts up to her belt as she half turns toward the motion, possibly as if she were reaching for a gun, but one is not present. She relaxes when the attack turns out to be a hug, laughing quietly at the situation. "Would ya like ta see her?" she asks, turning back to Alice. "The ship?"

A faint rosy tinge creeps onto the crests of Lucinda's cheeks, though its likely she only believes that Jonas has caught her gaze and not the fact that he's actually /returning/ it. Slowly the doctor sidesteps, putting some space between her and the vendor and leaving Delilah to discuss his fruitful bounty. After a while, the doctor just sort of drifts away, her attention caught by this or that and pushing that odd tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach to the back of her mind. Maybe she'll go find that champagne while the others are occupied.

Alice also starts back a bit when Jonas rises and pulls Dalilah into that big bear hug, though she relaxes soon afterward, smiling lopsidedly. The girl then does a double-take at Ashlyn, shock written all over her features. "R-really?" she asks, stunned, "Are... are you serious? I mean, you b-barely know me!" Alice raises her hands in a supplicative gesture, smiling sheepishly, "Not that I'm saying no or anything, I'm j-just really surprised. I'd -love- to. See the ship. And, er... get a job. As for what I know, um..." The blonde hesitates, rubbing the back of her head absently, "I know a little bit about everything, just about. Computers, electronics, cooking... I'm actually a p-pretty good cook." Said with a note of pride, "I even know some stuff about ship engines and the like. Er, all theoretical, though. I haven't really had a chance to work on a ship." She hesitates a moment then adds, "I can fence? I'm really quite good at that, too. Better than my sister, even."

Delilah squeaks in delight when Jonas bearhugs her, and turns towards Ashlyn to wink. The message is clear - 'see, other people do it too!' When he lets go and offers her a watermelon, she surveys them closely before pointing to what she has deemed the perfect one. "That one, please." Jonas smiles a bright white smile and he and Dela get invested in a chat about produce, Ryan, and various men in the area. It's gonna be a while, and she's not gonna notice people when they leave.

Borrowing Clothes - IC Time: April 1, 2518

2008-05-06T15:11:34Z

Lucinda stands at the gaping hole in the common area, a cup of coffee cradled in one hand as she looks idly out the impromptu window to the barrens and junk heaps outside. A stern expression is fixed to her features, as if she stands there contemplating the 'verse's most pressing issues. At least she's out and about again, but only because she made a woman a very serious promise. There will be watermelons. Oh yes. There will be watermelons.

Cid enters the Commons from the fore hall, newly woken and bleary-eyed. Brushing his hair with a hand, he sights Lucinda by the breach, and grunts, "Hey." Trudging into the galley, he asks, "Where's the mugs again?"

Delilah bounces into the room until she sees Lu by the hole, causing her to slow the walk down to a chipper crawl, at least. "Hey, Lu," she calls out timidly, trying to gauge the woman's mood. "Ya ready fer some melon shoppin'?" She's smiling, but it's half the energy of her usual beam. "I looked up some stuff on the Cortex, an' I'm thinkin; I know where we can go without runnin' inta Ryan or his Momma." She rolls her eyes and settles her hands on her hips, turning her head when Torres comes in. "Mornin', Miya!" she calls out at normal Delilah volume. "We only got four what are fit ta drink from, an' they're in the cupboard over the stove."

Lucinda twists slightly to look over her shoulder as people start to emerge, giving them both a slight smile that is polite if not necessarily warm. "I made a fresh pot." She states, as if having done the most amazing task ever. Forget open heart surgery, Lu can make coffee! "And I'm ready when you are, Delilah." Of course she must have gotten up hours ago to look clean, pressed, and starched despite the fact that the Compass is still lacking proper ammenities.

Cid turns after grunting to Del, reaching to open the cabinet over the stove, and Lo! three mugs. Cid grabs one, and grabs the pot of coffee, filling his mug. "You guys goin' out?"

"Yeeees," Delilah responds hesitantly, as she looks Lu over with a critical eye. "Hey, umm...Lu? Would ya happen ta have any...other clothes here? I mean, somethin' with some color, somethin' that ain't gonna give ya away as an educated doclady?" She shifts from side to side, a bit nervously. "What are you up ta today, Miya?" she asks of the gunhand behind her, trying to break the tension she's feeling. "Got any plans?"

Lucinda frowns just a hint as she looks down at herself. Surely nothing was amiss, as she very meticulous in getting ready this morning. Wait! She sees the problem. A piece of lint on her pants. Picking it off, she looks up to Delilah expectantly. "Color?" She asks, slightly aghast at the suggestion. Or perhaps sheepish now realizing that her entire wardrobe is nothing but blacks and greys and whites.

Cid watches the interaction between Lucinda and Delilah, synapses firing enough to let him know something is a little 'off'. But frankly, he's just too tired to care at the moment. His look at Lucinda slides to Delilah, and he shrugs. A sniff at an armpit of his t-shirt and he says, "Got some stuff in the engine room Ash wants done today. How long you two plannin' on bein'? Is it gonna be a 'seein' the sights' sorta thing, or just get in there, get it, an' go?" Hm, maybe two are in a mood this morn.

"Well, yeah," Delilah says, pointing down to her own thin flowing summer skirt in hues of pink and yellow, with a light green fitted t-shirt to match. The t-shirt has a smiling strawberry on it, waving as it declares her a 'Strawberry girl'. "Ya gotta go ta the markets like yer from a farm, or at least like ya grow an' work with produce. They cut ya a better deal an' give ya the best produce iffn' they like ya. But iffn' ya show up lookin' serious an'...well, stuffy, they ain't gonna show ya their best stuff, they ain't gonna gossip with ya 'bout who's seein' who an' then lower their prices." Delilah is really, really not too comfortable with telling Lucinda her wardrobe is boring, stuffy, and unrealistic, but that's what it amounts to. Glancing at Torres to gauge his reaction, she mumbles back to Lu, "I could loan ya somethin' iffn' ya wanted...an' well, Miya, we're jus' goin' ta buy one big watermelon, but they're gonna wanna chat an' hobnob, an' I'll probably end up gettin' more than I planned jus' cuz I know I'll see stuff I like an' can use."

Lucinda's hand goes to her throat, closing over the high fabric on her neck as if its suddenly choking her. "Well. I don't particularly mind paying an inflated price.." Her face flushes a bright crimson and her eyes dart to Torres as if he can save her from the evil sundressed fate. "I don't know if.. I mean, I could never wear..." Stumble stumble trip fall flat on your face with words, doc, why don't you.

Cid nods slowly to Delilah after a sip of coffee. "Sounds like a sight seein' thing. Ah well, ya'll take too long I'll just leave ya to your yackin' is all." The gunhand catches that look from Lucinda and he shrugs to her, adding, "Hey, I like that shirt I can see your belly button. Wouldn't hurt ta wear somethin' to show yourself off, Lu. Might be fun ta fight some burlies off ya." A grin creases a laugh line as he raises his mug for another drink.

Aaaaaaand Delilah's jaw drops to the floor. Torres and Lu? Dating? No one told her this! She had no clue! She couldn't be more beside herself. "I...uhh..." she stutters, a gigantic goofy grin on her face. "I'm gonna - yeah. Yeah. I'll jus' go grab somethin' fer Lu, an' be...I'll be right back, kay?" She's practically biting her cheeks with an effort not to explode, as she rushes out of the room and heads for her quarters and god only knows what brightly colored clothing for Lucinda to wear.

Lucinda takes a step towards Torres, "I don't need to show myself off!" She does that angry whisper thing at him as Delilah vacates to scour her wardrobe for no doubt the brightest, frilliest, horrid thing she can find. "Aren't you supposed to support me or something!" She continues in that exaggerated quiet voice, that sounds hoarse. "And stop mentioning that shirt, for crying out loud."

Cid semi-glares at Delilah, but again is too tired to really get riled. Just too damn early. Shaking his head, his attention shifts to Lucinda in a second as she carries on in her forced whispery fashion. Eyes widen as he looks away, rallying a reply. "Well, yeah, I support ya," he says in a lower tone. He sighs. "If ya'd rather not wear anything else, that's fine too." Pause for a beat. "It was just a suggestion, Lu."

Delilah returns, still with the beaming grin on her face, triumphant with clothes tucked under her arm. "Alright, Lu, I figured ya ain't gonna be ready fer too much yer first time 'round with colors, so's I got ya a nice pair a jeans, an' a blue tank top ya can wear under this white jacket. See, it's colors, but not crazy, an' ya don't look like ya roll in mud all day, but ya don't look like a doc, either. An' I figured this way yer jacket'll come down on yer arms, since ya seem ta like wearin' yer long sweater so much." She looks like a puppy desperate to be patted on the head, and any tension in the room now is completely beyond her. "Will that do?"

Lucinda just frowns pointedly at Torres as if this is all his fault in some weird twisted way. Her steps are heavy as she approaches Delilah, almost stomping over to the cook as she extends a hand for the clothing. "What's wrong with looking like a doctor." She asks crisply, wrapping her hands around the clothes and toting them into the galley. "Really. So I wear trousers. And sweaters." In the middle of the summer. "There's nothing wrong with looking presentable." Distracted by generally admonishing those present, perhaps she forgets where she is and starts stripping off her sweater, pulling it off quickly and folding it with irritated movements. "One never knows when they might meet the most important person in their life, like a board member!" She turns to look at the both of them, standing here in her bra and pants before grabbing up the tank top and waving it at them to punctuate her next words. "Sleeveless does not convey competence!"

Cid actually sends Delilah a smile, aware of how hard she's trying not to offend the doctor. But it's with knitted brow when the gunhand looks back at Lucinda. A ruttin' what? Board member? The brows arch, and then Cid plays along with it. his 'serious' face put on for added sarcastic effect. "All I know is, Lu, standin' here in your bra, an' standin' out there in what Del's offerin' ain't much of a jump, now ain't it? I mean you're lookin' mighty comfortable right there, an' I ain't gonna complain 'bout the view."

Delilah, for once, doesn't know what to say. Standing there in front of the barely clothed doctor, with Torres looking on with complimentary words, has proved a bit too much for her. She holds out the tank top with wide, wide eyes, and mumbles something about looking presentable when meeting board members is fine, but that produce workers aren't likely to appreciate such things. She glances to Lu's pants, expecting those to be the next item whipped off in haste.

Lucinda gaze flits to Torres for a moment, "Like you've never seen the feminine form before." As if yes, her standing her half-naked is perfectly acceptable. But she does, however, begin to pull the shirt over her head, settling the tanktop on her top-half with a few tugs. Some of the wind is knocked out of her sails as she kicks off her boots. "Its not that I can't appreciate others choice in clothing, its just simple not...-me-." She grumbles, stepping behind the section of cabinetry to at least somewhat obscure herself from the others as she drops trou to change into the jeans. It takes some tugging, and that fancy hopping dance thing to pull them up onto her hips and secure the button. "There." She grumps, coming out into full view to be ridiculed.

Cid's yawn is slashed in half when he sees Lucinda in her new 'gear. Eyes widen in, well, surprise. "Wow," he murmurs, staring at Lucinda. "Wanna go out somewhere?" Cid's not joking either from the look in his eyes as he nods with approval. He even looks to Delilah to flash her a thumbs up!

Ashlyn steps out of the aft hallway from the directions of the engine room. For those that have been in the commons for some time, no one ever saw her go in, so the estimated time she's been in there could well range into a very large number of hours. As per her usual attire since coming on board the Compass, she's dressed in tan shorts, a black tank top featuring a very irritable pink cat, a red bandana, and her once again ever present tool belt. Soot, dust, grease, and various other forms of general space ship themed dirt paint all of her exposed skin and most of her clothing. "Blasted life support's blasted climate control..." she's muttering as she emerges, cut short by an extemely odd sight. "Lu!" she says with much more enthusiasm than she reserved for the air conditioning. "You look... great!" She's not sure if that's the proper word to apply to the doctor's attire, but the smile on her face would imply that the sentiment would be the same.

Delilah smiles softly, trying to avoid cracking up when Miya gives her the yay thumb. "I think ya look awful nice, Lu," she offers lightly, holding out the thin white jacket next. She's trying so hard to be encouraging. "An' I weren't tryin' ta say that ya don't look nice usually, jus' that these are...very different people than yer used ta, ya know? I'd hate fer them ta give ya a hard time." /And then you'll never want to go out with me again,/ is the unspoken thought written on Delilah's face. When Ash walks in, Delilah grins wide and mirror's Torres' earlier thumbs up.

Lucinda reaches up to pull the two sticks that are securing the tightly wound bun of hair to the crown of her head. "Really, you'd think I you all were my parents and I was about to go on my first date. The way you're all standing around, practically applauding." She says, with an aire of grumpiness, but a faint smile curls her lips, secretly pleased its being so well received. Shaking loose a mane of wavy hair, she tucks the sticks into a back pocket and waves off the jacket. "Too hot out." She explains to Delilah before reaching to fold her trousers and add it to the sweater on the counter.

As Lucinda lets her hair down, Cid is effectively speechless. His head tilts as he quietly regards the doctor, eyes wide in pleasant wonder. Realizing his mouth is starting to gape, Cid brings his mug to bear upon his lips and has another sip. Too hot, most definitely.

Ashlyn draws in a breath as if to make a point, when suddenly a strange sound begins to emit from the ships vents, first kind of a thumping metalic noise, and then, quite unexpectedly, a gentle hum followed by a rush of cold air. And now Ashlyn is speachless as well, just staring up at one of the overhead vents as if she's just witnessed a devine miracle. And for those of the crew who have seen the state of the life support, maybe she has.

Blinking, Delilah sets the jacket back down on the table. She really hadn't expected Lu to prefer less clothes, but hey, she'll go with it. The jeans, the tank top, the loose hair, and now the - life support? Cold air? She cracks a grin at the Captain and calls, "Way ta go Ash!" Moving across the kitchen to grab a wicker basket she'd set on the counter earlier, she turns around to peer at those present. "Alright, who's comin' with us fer some watermelons an' whatnot!" You'd think they were going to a concert.

Lucinda doesn't notice anyone looking at her slack-jawed, why would they be? She does, however, smile as the first hum of the ship coming to life breaks the silence. "It seems we've made progress. A momentus occassion indeed. Watermelons and champagne are my treat. Pending of course, we can find such a thing on Boros."

The rumble of cool air draws Cid's attention, his eyes shifting from Lucinda to the vents. From there, they settle on Ashlyn, and he smiles at her, nodding once. The chin jerks to the hull breach. "We'll need ta get that fixed right quick, Cap'n." Pushing off the counter with his tush, the gunhand leaves his mug behind, and walks for the fore hall. "I'll get my duster an' hardware, meet ya'll inna sec." He disappears around the corner.

Ashlyn continues looking up at the air vent in confusion for a moment before checking the date on her watch. "I'm not entirely sure this ain't a prank, given the day it is," she says. But one word manages to break through the pondering of if a higher power would participate in April Fool's Day. "Watermelon?" she asks with a grin. "Well, that don't sound half bad at all!" Giving the hole in the hull a considering look, she scratches her chin with a grin. "Gonna take a while `till we can get someone here with machinery ta weld that on proper, but it's just as well. The air vents smell like dog."

Delilah blinks. "Champagne, really?" she squeaks excitedly. "Wow, I ain't never got ta try that afore. Always wanted to, though." She laughs when Torres points out that all their cool air is going to go rushing outside, and waves to him as he walks out quickly. "What day is it?" she asks confused, looking from Lu to Ash and Lu again. "Ya comin' with us, Ash?"

Lucinda informs Delilah with a pleasant smile. "The carbonation with tickle your nose, its positively delightful." Her eyes followed Torres as he vacated the room, off again in the pursuit of making the Compass space worthy. She tries not to let it affect her mood, but even though they may not be getting a long terribly well, she still fades a bit as he leaves. "Shall we then? As they say, we're wasting daylight."

"Today's April Fool's D-Today's my birthday!" Ashlyn ammends. "I'm twenty two!" And imediatly the subject shifts back to the matter at hand. "Yeah, I'd love ta go with. I just gotta wash my hands." Apperently a fine coating of grime on the rest of her body is acceptable attire.

"It's yer birthday, Ash?!" You can almost see Delilah planning the menu in her head. "Well, it's a good thing we're gettin' some watermelon, then, huh? Maybe some ice cream, too. I couldn't find that yesterday." And, mumbling various food items, she starts to trot down the stairs.

Fixing the Hole - IC Time: March 31, 2518

2008-05-06T01:32:22Z

"A few more feet!" Ashlyn yells over the whir and rumble of machinery and the arid wind wipping through the Barrens, though as high up as she is, she's spared the worst of the dust. Perched on one of the ladders built into the side of the ship and secured by a harness higher up, she watches the crane ease the replacement hull into place. Her shorts have been traded for a pair dusty cargo pants, and heavy leather gloves and goggles complete the look along with the heavy bolted in her free hand, secured to her forearm lest she lose her grip on it.

From the other side of the hull panel to be installed is Cid, gloves on, and a tool belt of his own (woot!). His brown t-shirt has taken on a darker hue as his sweat is soaked by the fabric. Standing from another ladder, he looks closely to see that the large bolts are seated into the ship's frame. Once that's done the panel can be secured and sealed. It's just the getting it there part that's tricky.

Delilah comes into the Commons in her cutoff jean shorts and a black tank top, stretching and yawning as she walks. "Mmmmmmm ahah! Wow, I really didn't mean ta nap fer that - ACK!" She yells and does a twostep when she notices the large panel coming at her where the hole used to be. "What the heck?!" Completely disoriented by the unfamiliar sight, she blinks at it a few times, trying to get her bearings.

"We wake you?" Ashlyn yells over the sound of the machinery before with a loud 'clang' the panel whumps into place, the large bolts along it's edge lining up just perfectly if the way it settles into place is any hint. She gives the mechanic opperating the crane a thumbs up before scurrying the rest of the way up the ladder to where her harness secures to a handhold near a small open hatch. "Thought we'd try havin' a solid wall taday!" she says happily down into the commons.

Cid's right beside Ash, looking down from the other side. "Buncha burlies are gonna be in there shortly to seal it with a weld. Don't be askin' any a them if they a virgin, aalright?" One can almost here the grin in the gunhand's voice.

Well, if she wasn't disoriented before! "Burlies? What?" she yells up at Miya, raising her hand to shield her from the sunlight. "What the heck is a burly?" Looking around in abject confusion, she plops down on the arm of a couch, only to have it bust under her and fall to the floor, dust rising around her. Sighing with frustration, she stands and begins dusting her butt off. "I'm never takin' a nap again," she moans.

Ashlyn pushes her goggles up to her forehead and reaches out to try swat Cid's head lightly, though she, too is grinning. "Where are those furniture people?" she sighs as the couch finally dies benieth Delilah. She reaches up and replaces her goggles, dropping out of sight as she slides down her harness to the unsecured bolts protruding from the panel. Hooking one boot into the rungs of the ladder to steady herself, she begins tightening the bolts in place one by one, yelling up between each whir of the tool in her hands. "Shouldn't be more'n a quick job!" 'Whirr! Thunk!' "Piece fits perfectly!" 'Whirr! Thunk' "Won't even need ta do any patch jobs or nothin' I don't think!" 'Whirr! Thunk!'

"Come on, Del," replies Cid from the hatch still. "Burlies. Big brawny fellas. Aintcha never heard a burlies?" The gunhand ducks his head from Ashlyn's playful swat, then looks with some seriousness. "Maybe they don't use that word much these days?"

Delilah laughs as she dusts herself off. "Well, I ain't ever heard it, but we jus' never said it on Lilac, so that don't mean much." She grins and moves away from the dead couch. "Any big guys on Lilac were mostly farmers, ranchers an' the like." Smiling up at the bit of Ash she can see through the hatch, she calls out, "So, now that our air is workin' an' all, what's next? We got a panel on, what do we gotta do besides get some furniture in here?"

Ashlyn reaches the bottom of the pannel and braces the heavy treads of her boots against the hull as she begins moving along the bottom, securing the bolts as she goes, the rapid 'Whirr! Thump!' of bolts slamming into place floating up to those above her. "The skylight!" she yells up. "Work o'er the life support, an' the engine. Want ta make sure those're perfect, right?" She reaches the end of the reach of her harness and swings back to the ladder. "Make sure all the circuitry fer the flight controls are in order. Lot's ta do, still!"

Cid glances around across the Barrens, covering his eyes with a hand, able to just make out the Swaps from here. "Pretty nice view out here, Del," he says lying on the hull beside the hatch. "But, maybe a lil' hot fer ya delicate skin." The gunhand grins mischievously at Ashlyn, then admits in a lower tone, "Gorram hot fer me even. I can work on the engine some more if ya wanna do somethin' else."

Delilah snickers at Miya's reference to her paleness. "I ain't goin' out there, ya loon," she giggles. "Like ta 'bout give me a heart attack, bein' up that high. Used ta climb trees when I was little till I fell outta one, an' I ain't been back up that high since." Crossing the kitchen, she opens the fridge and reaches in for a couple bottles of cold water. "Y'all come in an' I give ya cold water, an' maybe some food, too. What time is it, anyways?" She eyes the stairs, as though expecting Torres' 'burlies' to make an entrance any moment.

Ashlyn grins as she climbs back up the ladder and settles at the hatch again. "Hey," she says. "The air's workin'. The hole's patched. The kitchen works. I don't suppose the order a what we get things done from here on out matters much. I can finish up gettin' this panel stuck in place an' welded if you'd rather be inside?" She turns to Delilah with a grin as she shoves the goggles back up on her forehead. "Aw, come on, Del! We can strap ya to a harness an' I can show ya how ta use an' arc welder!" Weather or not she's joking is entirely a mystery.

Cid nods to Ashlyn and says, "Alright. Just let me know otherwise, but I'll go see about the wiring for the distribution module. Shouldn't be too hard with that diagram an' all." He glances down into the hatch and says to Del, smiling, "Food always sounds shiny." He looks expectantly to Ashlyn. "How 'bout it? We go down, take a break?"

Delilah sets the water bottles on the counter for now, and goes about pulling some of the ingredients she made Grey sandwiches with the other day and arranges them quickly on a cutting board. Just like that, Italian deli sandwiches with salami, pastrami, mustard, balsamic vinegar, and mozzarella appear. Beside it, Greek sandwiches with feta cheese, gyro meat, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and olives are created, and then one with bacon, cheddar cheese, grilled chicken, lettuce, and green peppers is built. Cutting them into slices, she throws them onto the few plates they have that are decent to serve with and carries them over to - well, the table is dusty, so that's out. She just stands, holding the plates and waiting for them to appear.

"I'll follow in a second," Ashlyn says with a nod as she lets out the give on her harness and moves back out obviously with the intention of finishing off the bolts before the piece is welded in place. "Just set mine on the table," she calls down to Delilah. Let no one doubt that Ashlyn has no cares about any kind of grime.

And just then, Cid's 'burlies' arrive in the commons. Only the new arrival is not so much a burly as he is a somewhat scrawny, awkward teenager with a tag on his jumpsuit that reads 'Phillipe' and a welder that looks like it might topple the poor skinny kid over. "Miss Ashlyn said," he says in a squeaky voice, stopping short as he sees the commons is occupied. "She said ta come right on up.. when um... I mean, howdy, miss-ma'am... I mean, miss," he stutters at Delilah, looking down at his toes.

Cid nods to Ashlyn, then grabs the rope secured to a hand grip here. He slowly descends down the side of the hull of the firefly until he touches ground. From there Cid ambles to the open cargo ramp, only too ready for something to eat.

Ashlyn finishes off securing the last bolt in place, and the hole in the wall of the commons is officially gone! Well, not officially, since it's still not welded in place, but the newly fixed air conditioner is no longer pumping cold air out into the Barrens. Ashlyn hangs from a harness secured to an open hatchway looking down into the commons, her shorts traded for cargo pants, and safety goggles up on her forehead. Inside, the ship is notably much more comfortable, as at least part of the life support seems to be online now. Also, it seems the couch has finally passed the pearly gates of couch heaven. Maybe they don't have pearls on the gates in couch heaven. I bet it's buttons. In any case, the couch has collapsed.

Ashlyn watches Cid take the boring way back to the commons. Scrambling up the ladder back to the hatch, she leans through and holds out the power tool to the scrawny teenager in a mechanic's jumpsuit turning every shade of red in Delilah's presence. "Phillipe," she says. "Good ta see you again. Can ya take this fer me `fore I fall on it?" Yep, her intention is to drop through the hatch into the commons.

Cid's footsteps can be heard coming from the aft hall as he jogs up the stairs. Reaching the Commons he's surprised to see the skinny lad, Phillipe, and then even more so when he sees Ashlyn intends on dropping into the room from the hatch. "Nice ta meetcha, Phillipe," he says after Del introduces the pair. Arms akimbo, the gunhand gazes at the Captain and says, "I dunno, Ash. Maybe that's not such a good idea..."

The movements through the ship are done quietly and with much stealth. Bishop... is on the hunt. Sticking to the shadows of the still being repaired ship, the man slinks and clings to the walls as he tracks his prey.

"Psh. Just as high as the ranch's roof," Ashlyn says as she undoes her harness. "An' ain't even /half/ as high as the cliff. Just no water. But if yer gonna fret, someone could offer ta catch me!" she ads with a grin. "Y'all got /five/ seconds. Four... Three..."

Phillipe seems a little overwhelmed by all the activity, stuttering a few more times as he takes the tool from Ashlyn, having to reach up a significant distance to do so. "Hello, sir," he says to Cid, though he's watching Ashlyn with a look of fright. It's not like he's able to do anything even close to catching her. She might weigh more than he does! "Miss Ashlyn, ma'am, I don't think ya should..."

Bishop approaches the commons and pauses, hearing voices. Miss Ashlyn? Don't think she should. The brow of Bishop furrows a bit as he tilts his head, the brain taking time to process the words before he mutters to himself, "Bwuh?"

"Two... One... I see how it is!" Ashlyn says when no one offers to rescue her from her own insanity. The trick is to hit the ground and roll. Trajectory? Good. Available space? Decent enough. Clearance? No, not so much. Ashlyn's boot catches on the harness and no sooner has she begun to drop than she spins in the air with a surprised yelp before her boot frees from the strap, disengaging her ungracefully toward the floor. She lands butt-first with a loud 'Wham!' "Ow!" Ashlyn squeaks as she hits.

Phillipe leaps back with perhaps more fear than is warranted. After all he's already taken her power tools, the only person she's really endangering is herself. "Ohmygosh Miss Ashlyn! Are you alright?! Do you need a doctor?!"

Bishop comes out from around the corner, his hunting rifle/squirt gun being lowered as he frowns. "Ashlyn?!" He calls out after hearing her yelp 'ow'.

Cid swears and cringes as the Captain tumbles downward in a sort of delayed spin-roll deal that lands Ashlyn painfully on her behind. Crouching down beside her Cid says with some concern, "Geez, Ash, are ya alright?"

"The floor is hard! It hurts when you fall on it!" Ashlyn yelps back to Bishop or anyone needing an explanation for what tragedy just occurred, her eyes squinched closed and both hands on her suitably tenderized rear end. "I'm okay. Someone call me an idiot so I know you're not sparing my feelings." It's readily apparent that aside from having bruised both herself and her ego, the captain will have no lasting damage, at least.

Phillipe sets the tools on the ground so he wring his hands worriedly. "Is there a doctor on the ship? Should I go get them?" he asks despite Ashlyn's response.

"A doctor? She'll bite your head off ifn' you try." Bishop states towards Phillipe before moving towards Ashlyn and kneeling next to her. "You... are an idiot, but far to adorable to be called one." He cannot help it, he glances at Cid and begins to chuckle at Ashlyn's expense.

Cid stands up then, shaking his head to Phillipe. "I think she's gonna live, boy," he grins. The gunhand shrugs at Bishop in return, the grin still on his face. He sighs dramatically for Ashlyn's sake, and says, "Well, leastways, next time ya'll consider the stairs. That's what they're for. Cap'n." Finally, he shakes his head, chuckling to himself. Times like these one realizes ... kids gotta play. Even Captains!

"That's why I love you, Jason," Ashlyn manages, as she too begins laughing. Can one laugh at their own expense? Well, Ashlyn is certainly doing a good job of it. Who wouldn't laugh? Here she is, surrounded by people, looking like a total fool, with both hands on her butt. The only moderately graceful way out of the situation is to laugh! "The stairs looked borin'!" she says to Cid as she struggles gingerly to her feet. "Oh, ow," she laughs as she rights herself. "Oh, jeeze, Phillipe, it's okay. But ya know what, we prob'ly ain't gonna get ta weldin' that thing in place taday. You wanna stick around fer food though, maybe?"

Phillipe goes back to turning various shades of embarrassed as he very dutifully studies his shoes rather than watch Ashlyn rub the spot she'd bruised. "No, ma'am," he stammers. "Thank's for the offer, but if ya don't need me I oughta get back ta what Major had me workin' on." He hazards a glance after a moment to see if she's done before looking fully up from his shoes. "It was nice seein' you again, miss Ashlyn, and nice meetin' everyone else, but I'd best be goin' if everything's alright."

Jason looks at Phillipe and nods then glances back to Ashlyn grinning a bit. "Well good, I'm glad that's the reason you love me. But next time something looks boring could you just, utilize it anyway? Totally ruined my surprise y'know."

Cid waves to Phillipe, then grins at the pair. "I can see you both have things well in hand." He turns and heads for the entryway to the fore hallway, saying as he twists around to Bishop and Ashlyn, "Gonna wash up a bit, then come an' see about eatin'" Cid walks out of sight around the corner.

"As long as I'm not utilizin' it out of common sense," Ashlyn says with a grin as she limps over to one of the seating impliments that didn't crumble to dust today, namely a somewhat ragged chair beside the table. "An' ya still got time ta surprise me." She cringes as she sits down. "Long as the surprise ain't that you've took up the grand tradition a the birthday spankin' `cause that's just right out!" She pauses to chuckle slightly. "Later, Cid!"

"Well it /was/ going to be a spanking. Now I'm just going to have to wait until you're all patched up. Don't want to ruffle you while you're all injured." Bishop looks over to Cid and nods to him, winking a bit before returning attention to Ashlyn, "What were you doing up there anyway?"

Ashlyn points to the no longer giant gaping hole in the commons wall. "Finally fixin' the wall now that the air's workin'," she says sheepishly. "Figured it's be easier ta just cool the ship rather than all a Boros." She shifts a little in the chair, settling more comfortably. "Ain't space-worthy till it's been welded, but it's plenty insulated enough ta keep the air in. It's almost kinda like a ship now, huh?"

Bishop grins and gently strokes Ashlyn's hair. "Yeah, it's becoming more and more like home. I've been out tryin' to find amnemities for it but it ain't goin' so hot. Tough times out there has folks askin' higher than usual prices."

Ashlyn points to the remains of the couch lurking in the corner with a slight grin. "Tell me `bout it. Already ordered new couches, but they just didn't show up in time. At least all the beds came in on time, but the couches were s'post ta be here a week back!" She looks around at what else needs replacing. "I dunno. I can build some a it if we really gotta, but I ain't no carpenter." She presses on the table and the legs give a little as it wobbles slightly. "Neither was whoever built this." She grins. "We'll get by. Even if the place ain't all set up `fore we're space worthy, it's just... work in progress."

"Oh you ordered the new beds already?" Jason asks her with a tilt of his head. "Did you you know.. get us a really tiny one that is going to force someone to sleep on the floor? Cause if you did, you're on the floor."

Ashlyn sticks her tongue out at Bishop. "No chivalry. None at all!" she chides. "No, I got one the same size as was on the Theory. Ya know, it's five square feet bigger in there than the Theoy's. We should install a potted garden in the corner. For Ralph," she says was a decisive nod. "He is a garden gnome after all."

"And who is going to take care of the Garden?" Bishop asks towards Ashlyn with narrowed eyes. "Hmm? So I'm being demoted from couch guy and seducer of the Captain, to the gardener?"

"Ralph will take care of it," Ashlyn says with a nod. "He's got a tiny little gnome-sized wheel barrel and everything. I think he's prepared. He's up for the task." She leans back in the chair with a cringe. "Because god knows I'd let it die what with all the other stuff ta do `round here," she ads with a grin that says she really doesn't mind 'all the stuff' at all. "So what is it you was out lookin' for anyway?"

Bishop just grins at Ashlyn as he is kneeling near her. "What? You expect me to just up and tell you what I am out looking for? Oh darling, why would I pass up the chance to finally get one past you? Nope. You're going to have to wait." Leaning forward he kisses her forehead. "I'm going to go see if I can find the doc and at the same time set my evil plans into motion."

Ashlyn smiles happily at the kiss, and it's not until a moment later that his words sink in. "What? 'Past me'? 'Evil plan'? Lu's in on it? Hey you can't go right after sayin' that! How fair is that?" She cops a mock-hurt look with a full on quivering lip that is totally ruined by the fact that she's trying not to laugh.

Bishop cackles, a nice over the top villain cackle as he stands up and moves off. "Go get some ice for your ankle darling. I'll ... be... back. MUHAHAHAH." Turning, he overly dramatically leaps through the commons area exit. Shortly after the sound of crashing can be heard along with a muttered "Son of a!".

Lucinda emerges from the same hallway Bishop just crash landed in, looking back over her shoulder as she walks. "I swear, that boy has some sort of imbalance." She mumbles, mostly to herself as she enters the commons.

"Isn't it great? But if you think that was bad you should a seen what /I/ just did," Ashlyn informs the doctor as she enters. She points up at the still open hatch in the ceiling above the commons. "I fell off the roof. It was supposed ta be a jump, but things just didn't work out that way." The way she's laughing suggests that she survived the incident more or less intact.

Lucinda finds Ashlyn with her eyes, offering her a smile which actually just might be genuine. "Is that so? Perhaps its time we invest in a ladder?" She asks while crossing into the galley, though her tone is light. Apparently, she's in the pursuit of coffee. Taking a mug from where its drip drying next to the sink, she moves to fill it before asking. "Any permanent damage?"

"Just to my pride," Ashlyn says. "Right in front of Bishop, Cid, Delilah, and Phillipe." She makes a falling motion with one hand into the other. "Wham!" She turns and gestures to the newly placed chunk of hull. If it's any indication what part of her body broke the fall, the cringe she gives as she shifts in her chair is pretty clear about it. "But it was worth it. Now we have AC and a lack of very large holes!" She turns back to Lucinda. "Is everthin' workin' in the medbay? I ain't gone through it yet."

Lucinda leans against the counter, steaming mug in hand. "Clean, yes. Working...not entirely. I'm afraid it will take a more technical mind than mine in order to get the diagnostic machine chirping again. But we're functional. Mainly because I don't require a diagnostic machine." Bragging, perhaps, but at least she's doing it modestly?

Ashlyn appears to think about it a bit. "So it's not high on the list, then? Not while yer here at least?" She looks back toward the medbay. "You need me ta look at it, anyway? Not familiar with the machine, but ain't never stopped me from breakin' somethin' b'fore." She grins.

Lucinda blows a stream of air across the surface off the black liquid in her mug, hoping to cool it a degree or two before she takes that first scalding sip. "There's still hope. And I'm sure if anyone can fix it, its you. You always seemed handy with the...handy things." She makes a hand gesture like hammering a nail, because that should be synonymous with Ashlyn, apparently.

"The nice thing about broken things is if I tear it ta shreads an' still can't do nothin' about it, nothin's lost," Ashlyn imparts. "An' I'll be happy ta put it on the great long list a many things that need gettin' done `fore we're whole an' complete." She leans back and the motion brings her eyes to the missing skylight. "Yer next," she threatens the small hole, raising one finger toward it. "I dunno what it is. It feels really good taday. Like things is gonna be right like they ain't been in a long time. Even though my ass is probably purple," she adds with a lopsided grin.

Lucinda raise her mug in salute to Ashlyn as she pushes off her leaning post. "Well, put some ice on it if the icemaker made it to the top of the to-do list already. I should offer, but there are some things I won't do, even in the name of medicine." Even though if it were actually medically warranted, of course Lu would do it. "I'll be back in my bunk, should anyone need me."

Ashlyn grins and waves farewell to the doctor. "G'night, Lu," she says happily. "Sleep well. I'll see ya `round." For now, though, she's more content to remain where she's sitting then get on the ice issue right away.

Ryan Disaster - IC Time: March 30, 2518

2008-05-06T01:30:01Z

Delilah emerges from the huge piles of junk towering over her, with arms full of grocery bags. She's wearing a sun dress in hues of light green and pink, and is followed by a young man of solid build and tan skin, who carries the heavier of the bags. Delilah couldn't look more pleased with herself. "Aaaaaaash!" she calls out up to the hole in the hull. "I hope that fridge is workin' cuz I got stuuuuuuuuff! An' company!"

Ashlyn once again appears at the giant gaping hole in the side of the galley, grease painted across her exposed skin, her braided hair pulled back in her bandana. "Yeah!" she yells back, taking a moment to search out the origin of the voice amidst the scrap. She stops as she catches sight of Delilah and her new friend. "Company's always welcome," she calls down, though she looks moderatly surprised. "I'll be right down!" She vanishes back inside the hole in the side of the commons, presumably headed down toward the cargo bay.

"I sure hope that yeah means it's workin'!" Delilah laughs cheerfully while leading the man with her inside. "Otherwise I'm gonna be awful busy tonight cookin'."
"Oh, I'd help ya, Miss Delanie," the man chimes in, looking around the ship with wide eyes. "I don't know muc 'bout cookin', now, but I can stir real well. Least that's what my Momma says."
Delilah cringes when the man mangles her name, but doesn't correct him. Weaving up the stairs with all the bags in hand, she mumbles behind her, "I guess we'll hafta see the state of the fridge first, huh?"

Ashlyn meets them at the top of the stairs. "Watch out fer the missin' one!" she cautions before they reach it, holding out her hand to take the bags from Delilah. "Fridge been up an' runnin' since this mornin'. Who's yer friend, Delilah?" she asks, looking the man up and down before deciding she does not know him.

Delilah lights up when Ashlyn announces that the fridge is done, and she happily hands off her bags and turns to make the introduction. "This here's Ryan," she offers, moving so that he can come into the Commons as well. "He was at the market when I was buyin' stuff, an' he offered ta help me carry it all home."
Ryan blankly stares at Ashlyn until Delilah stops speaking, and then his face breaks out into a huge smile. "Uhh...yeah. Yeah, Miss Delanie here jus' shouldn'ta had ta carry all that heavy stuff by herself, so's I offered ta come 'long." He stops speaking for a moment as he surveys the mountain of mess that is the Commons. "Wow. Guess y'all are busy, huh? Whoo boy. Can't take off in space iffn' ya got a hole in yer ship, that's fer darn certain."

Ashlyn hooks a thumb in the direction of the engine room with a grin as she takes the bags. "Or the engine in forty pieces an' the life support offline." She looks sheepishly at him. "Appologies fer the heat," she says with a chuckle. "Name's Ash, cap'n a this here rust bucket." She uses the insult fondly, however. Turning to move over to the refridgerator, she drops the bags beside the door and regards her grease-stained hands. "E'scuze me one moment," she says, going to the sink.

"Aww heck ma'am, I live in this here heat," Ryan drawls out, setting the bags down on the floor as well and scratching his head as he speaks. "Ain't no air conditionin' workin' at a open air market, ya know?"
Delilah seems to be ignoring Ryan completely, and is busying herself with exclaiming at the cold air inside the fridge, and then organizing her goods inside of it. "Ash, is Suji gonna be here for dinner with us?" sshe calls out, head in fridge
Ryan shuffles his feet, not very sure what to do with himself. "Gosh," he muses, "I don't think I ever been in one-a these afore. So, when y'all take off, does everythin' go floatin' in the air iffn' is ain't pinned down?"

Ashlyn shrugs as she rinses the grime of whatever it is she was working on at their arrival from her hands. "I `magine so," she says. "`Least he ain't said he won't be." She looks over her shoulder at Ryan. "Nah, s'got artificial gravity," she says as if that wasn't a dumb question at all, ships having had artificial gravity since leaveing Earth-that-was. "`Least she will, once Cid an' I fix that, too," she ads with a chuckle. "Well, glad this ain't a mysery fer you," she says, drying her hands on her shorts. "Pretty warm fer most a us. You need help with that, Delilah? What're ya makin'?"

"Ohhhhhhhh, right," Ryan replies, with a clueless look in his eye. "Artificial...yeah. That makes sense. Sure is good somebody thoughta that, otherwise ya'd have one heck of a mess when ya took off! An' how would ya get 'round?" He laughs, as though this is the most hilarious thought.
Delilah makes a sort of snorting/coughing noise before appearing out of the fridge. "I jus' thought I would make some big deli sandwiches," she says, pointing to a loaf of substyle bread sticking out of one of the bags. "That way the food can be cold an' it won't get hotter in here, ya know?" She's avoiding looking at Ryan at all costs.
"Whoa, deli sandwiches. Yep, sandwiches are awful tasty," Ryan says to no one in particular, big grin still on his tanned face. "Preeeeetty tasty. Iffn' ya ask me."

Ashlyn catches the lack of looking at Ryan. "Hey, Del, we ain't e'zactly set up fer company just yet," she says quietly, offering to ask the shop-boy to leave without being to blatent. "Couches an' table're `bout set ta fall in on themsleves, an' the replacements're long o'erdue. Maybe we could be more hospitable a week or so down the road?"

Lucinda enters the Barrens from the direction of the Swaps.
Lucinda has arrived.

Delilah looks at Ashlyn with grateful eyes. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. /Yeah/, we ain't really in a state ta have guests, no. You're right. There's so much dust an' there ain't nowheres ta sit. Plus, it's jus' so darn hot." Having said this, she meeps quietly under her breath and shoves her head back in the fridge, putting more groceries in.
Ryan just looks around and laughs. "Y'all sure are right 'bout that. Those couches don't look like they could hold a fly, much less a big boy like me." He beams some more and points to the hull hole. "Sure do have a pretty view of the yard, though. But I wouldn't let nobody in here, nosiree. Gotta get yerselfs in order first, that's right." He nods in complete agreement with what Ashlyn's saying.

Ashlyn offers up a crooked, but altogether genuine grin. "Thank ya so much fer helpin' Delilah back with the groceries, sir," she says. She pulls out her wallet and fishes out a few wrinkled bills. "Sorry it ain't much, but fer yer troubles," she says handing them over. "Maybe when we get ourselves ordered we'll be a little more ready fer company. Provided the new furniture ever /does/ arrive," she says with a laugh.

Ryan blinks at the money Ashlyn offers, and starts to stammer. "Oh, no Miss Ashed, I couldn't take yer money jus' fer helpin' a lady out. My Momma wouldn't never fergive me, no no." He steps forward a few paces and calls out to the cook, "It was awful nice seein' ya, Miss Delanie. I'll be sure ta tell my Ma all 'bout ya!"
Delilah yanks her head out of the freezer and smiles sweetly at Ryan. "Alright, then, Ryan, an' thanks fer helpin' me home. I'll be sure ta find ya iffn' I ever go back ta that market again." She waves energetically and turns back around to mouth at Ash, 'tell me when he's gone' while she arranges some boxes on the counter.
Ryan shuffles his feet some more, watching Delilah's back, before tipping an imaginary hat at Ashlyn and moping down the stairs and out the hold.

"Well," Ashlyn says uncertainly as he turns down the tip. "If you insist." She really does sound reluctant to let him leave without tipping him, but Delilah wants him gone, so she rolls with it. Once she sees him walking back to town through the hole in the commons, she turns to Delilah. "He's gone," she says, now looking like she's trying to contain laughter.

"OhthankGod," Delilah bursts, rushing over to throw her arms around Ashlyn's shoulders with a huge sigh. "He's awful cute an' was givin' me looks at the market. so's when he offered ta bring the bags back with me I thought it'd be a good idea, but it really, really wasn't." She moans and continues, "20 minutes about his Momma, Ash. I mean, I like a guy ta like their Ma an' all, be respectful an' all that, but five minutes in he was sayin' I ought drop the food off an' come meet his Ma so's he could see iffn' she thought it'd be alright fer him ta ask me over fer dinner." She pulls back and rakes her fingers through her red hair, tuking it behind her ears. "An' he jus' didn't seem ta have a workin' brain. Why would the Lord put such a tiny brain in such a pretty man?" She slumps against the fridge in frustration. "I ain't never gonna find a date. Much less a husband."

Ashlyn is ambushed! "Ak!" she says in surprise. "Well," she says, returning the hug, "at least he was nice." But that's about all she can offer. "So how's the fridge? Did ya see if the ice was workin' while you were in there? Should be but needs some time ta kick on." She looks around the kitchen briefly. "If it is, I think the rest I can leave `till I got some other things up an' runnin'."

Lucinda emerges from the aft hallway that leads up from the decks below. Her brow is knit together as if just being challenged by the most perplexing puzzle that is now going to give her a headache until she figures it out. As she glances up and sees Ashlyn and Delilah going on about groceries and men, the wrinkles only deepen. "I just met the strangest man on the way up. I swear I told him my name three times, and he insisted on calling me Lydia. Really, does Lucinda sound anything like Lydia?" She asks the pair, as if that simple question is the plaque of her existance.

"He was nice," Delilah acknowledges with a sigh. "Jus' not...jus' not right, ya know?" She turns back to the fridge and peers in the freezer. "Nah, ice ain't workin' yet, but that ain't a big deal. I'm sure it'll start in soon." When Lu enters she turns and bites her lip to surpress a smile. "Yeah, kept callin' me Delanie," she offers by way of explanation. "Yeah, Ash, I think I'm good now in here 'nough fer ya ta get started on the life support. Now I got a fridge an' stove, I'm awful grateful an' ready fer business."

"`Ey, Lucinda," Ashlyn says with a grin. "He was just helpin' Del carry her gorceries back now that the fridge is workin'." The captain/engineer is fairly well coated in grease save for her hands, and her hair is tied back in a bandana. "With that bein' fixed, Cid an' I're gonna move on ta the rest a the ship. I'm gettin' aweful tired a this heat. Weren't this bad in the middle a the summer back home." As much as she says the climate is unlpleasant, she's still wearing the same relaxed smile she'd adopted the moment she set foot on the ship.

Lucinda is, despite the heat, still in her sweater, though at least she's brave enough to scrunch the sleeves up to her elbows displaying the rows of black dotted tattoos that encircle each wrist. "Next time may I suggest renting a cart to pull them back here. Less muss. And likely more brains." She says, glancing over her shoulder as if still preturbed by the whole situation. "I suppose that is a strike on the men, but I hope you were at least successful in the watermelon venture?" She ask Del while offering Ash a polite smile in greeting.

Delilah snorts at Lu's comment about brains, and shakes her head while beginning to pull everything she put into the fridge out and line it up on the floor. "Nah, Lu, I wouldn't go buy a watermelon without ya. I promised ya a watermelon trip, an' so I waited till you were ready ta head over there." She sighs and yanks out a gallon of milk, setting it beside the cheese. "I only put this stuff in there ta avoid him," she explains. "Now I gotta take it all out an' clean it afore - Lu!" She cries out when she catches sight of something dark on the doctor's wrists. "What's wrong with yer arms? Ya ain't got a rash er a bruise er somethin' like that, huh? What'dja do ta yerself?" She rushes over and reaches out for Lu's arm, which she'll take and inspect if allowed.

Ashlyn seems startled by the sudden change in subject, craning her neck, but seeing nothing wrong with Lucinda's arms. She edges past the two to the refridgerator. She fishes one of the bottles of water out of the appliances doorway, grinning at the chill. Been a while since they had cold water! "Yer arms okay, Lu?" she asks from the short distance to keep her from getting tangled in the two of them.

Lucinda looks mildly taken aback by Delilah's suggestion and suddenly being manhandled by the woman. Which would make it womanhandled, no? "What? No. I mean, I don't think so?" She begins scrutinizing her own arms right along with Delilah. Of course, oblivious to the fact that Del means the tattoos. "I don't -see- anything."

"Right here, Lu, these big black marks!" Delilah licks her finger and starts rubbing on them before Lu can pull away. "An' it won't come off, either. What /is/ this?" She leans forward, peering close. "I mean, didja write on yerself all the way around yer arms? Is it morse code fer somethin' ya hafta remember? I can't tell iffn' it's a rash er somethin' ya wrote on yerself in a desperate moment with no paper."

Ashlyn arches an eyebrow as she watches Delilah examine the tatoos, cringing as she licks her fingers and grinds them into Lucinda's skin, wondering how well that's going to go over. She just stays silent for now, though, puling off the bottle top and taking a swig. "I /had/ wondered what those meant," she offers.

Lucinda tries to pull her hands out of Delilah's grasp once she realized what the little cook refers to, and is now more importantly trying to clean /off/. "They're permanent." She tries to shake off the offending fingers before her skin is rubbed raw. "Tattoos." She explains further, though why anyone would just get permanent bracelets of repeating dots, she doesn't delve into on this go around.

"Tattoos?" Delilah asks, peering up at Lu's face with concern. "Ya got tattoos of little dots on yer arms that ain't never go away?" She glances over at Ash, looking for support here. "Why in the world would ya wanna do that? What do they mean?" She has, at least, let go of Lu's arm and is fiddling with her hands, trying not to let her anxiety show through them. "An' how long have ya had 'em? It's jus'...I never noticed them afore."

Ashlyn just shrugs to Delilah, not sure what she wants from her with the silent querry. "Yeah," she offers. "Ya always got yer sweater down o'er them." She hops up on the counter and takes another drink of her water.

Lucinda takes a step backwards from Del, putting a hint of distance between all of them as the questions start to flow. "Each one is a memory I would like to retain. A mini-memorial to events, people, times in my life or lessons learned. Its nothing, its just...nothing. I've had them since my med school days." As if reminded about her sweater, she starts to tug down the sleeves, despite the heat. "Sorry they upset you."

"No, Lu, I'm not upset!" Delilah cries, frantic not to offend. "I jus' didn't realize that's what they were, I ain't never seen 'em before on ya. An' ta tell ya the truth, they seem a bit outta place. I might not be a person what would go an' have somethin' put on me fer all eternity, but that don't mean I'm gonna be upset at somebody else iffn' they do. Less it's my kid." She grins reassuringly. "Honest, Lu, I jus' thought ya had some big bruises er somethin' it kinda scared me is all." She takes a step forward and points to Lu's right wrist. "What did the first one ya ever got, what was that ta remember?"

Ashlyn remains where she is, quietly listening with a look of interest on her features as she takes a moment to relax and take a break from her work.

Lucinda scratches at them absently, even though they've all long since healed. She hasn't added one since the unfortunate demise of James with Matty's help. Talk about old wounds. "The first time I made a misdiagnosis that would have led to a patient's death. Had it not been merely in class, that is. It was a foolish error I made when I let the fact that I thought I was right outweigh the possibility that I may have been wrong." She finds it easily, for its the dot that's centered right ontop of her left wrist's main vein.

Delilah nods and takes another step forward. "What's the next one fer? That musta been awful hard, knowin' iffn' yer patient were real he woulda died. I can't 'magine how I'd deal with it iffn' somebody died everytime I put too much garlic in somethin'." She smiles, a soft, sweet welcoming smile. "Then again, can't really have too much garlic, can ya? What's the next one fer?" she repeats again.

Lucinda turns her wrist, pointing to the next in line. All in all there are likely hundreds dotting her wrists. "To remind me that I'm terribly allergic garlic." A joke, to be sure, but to list what each and every dot is for is a bit overwhelming for the doctor who hardly shares anything personal with anyone.

Delilah wrinkles her nose and laughs at Lu. Not typically so graceful with the subtle, Delilah for once sets her aside her habit of loudly talking about uncomfortable things and instead points to the stuff on the floor. Some of it is still in bags from where Ryan set it down, and some of the perishables are lined up in front of the fridge. "Would ya help me get this stuff put away?" she asks quietly, watching Lu's reaction. "I was thinkin' maybe we could go out an' buy that watermelon after. Though I'll hafta find a different market than the one Ryan was at. His momma owns the produce stand there." Making a face, Delilah turns and starts pulling more things out of the fridge so she can organize them.

Lucinda follows Delilah towards the little galley, bending to grab a bag to help sort it out. If there is one thing Lu is very capable of, and more than happy to help with, its organization. They say its therapeutic after all. And who needs more therapy than Lu. Okay, the whole ship needs therapy of some sort. "I'd like that. Though I am no watermelon specialist. Beyond the thought that I enjoy them. Haven't had watermelon in quite some time." She imparts, absently reading the label of a box of protein flake 'cereal'.

Delilah sorts in silence with Lu for a few moments before she murmurs to the other woman, "Ya know...I have all kindsa scars an' whatnot on my hands an' arms from cookin'. An' I can tell ya where each an' every one came from, an' what I was cookin' at the time." She smiles and points to a bag way over in the corner. "Let's just get the cold stuff put away, an' then we'll grab a melon."

Lucinda frowns at the nutritional values of the 'food' contained in the box, and merely sets it aside before she comments on its evils. "Is the refridgerator unit working then?" She asks, beginning to pick through her allotted bag looking for things that require refridgeration. "The only scar I have is from that knifing." She says absently, more likely to impart such details when she's otherwise occupied with a task and focusing on it instead of what she's saying.

"Yeah, I bet that weren't such a great day fer ya," Delilah remarks, waiting for fridge food from Lu. "Ash says she got it workin' this mornin', though the ice maker ain't kicked in yet. I didn't get much that needs ta go in the freezer, though Ash /did/ have a cravin' fer ice cream the other day, so's we should probably grab some 'a that when we head out." She grabs for a nearby bag and pulls out a jar of something dark and reddish. "Found a whole lot what ain't available elsewheres. Some stuff I ain't never seen afore. Sorta excited ta try it all." She pauses, then glances at Lu again. "What was yer last one fer, Lu?"

Grey enters the Barrens from the direction of the spaceport.
Grey has arrived.

Delilah and Lu are sorting through grocery bags on the floor of the Commons, which has a hole in the side of the hull which looks straight out onto the junkyard Barrens. There is a stove and a fridge which seem to be in clean working order, and Delilah is shoving cold food into the fridge as Lu sends it her way. Ashlyn is washing her hands at the sink with her back to everyone else.

Lucinda looks up with a box of immitation butter in each hand. "Last one what?" She looks around at the bags by her feet as if missing whatever Delilah is talking about. "I think these are for...buttering things?" She offers the boxes towards Delilah, as if certain they now contain the plague and she must be rid of them post haste. Of course, the fact the woman is referring to the tattoos around her wrist has completely escaped the good doctor.

Grey ventures out again into the Barrens - but this time, by the time he nears the Compass crew, he seems to have been scavenging there for a decent while already. "Hey!" he calls out, trying to catch their eyes through that hole in the hull by waving his arms. "You folks got any water up in there?" He holds up an empty canteen in his other hand.

Delilah frowns at Lu to hold back a laugh, and straightens from the fridge when she hears a familiar voice. "Is that Capn' Grey?" she asks, confused, as she walks over to the hole and peers out. "Hey, Capn' Grey!" she calls, waving and smiling. "We sure do got water, an' it's cold fer once, too! Come on up an' ya can help Ash make our air work!" Turning around from the hull, she shrugs and laughs. "Might as well make him work fer us ta get cold water," she jokes.

Ashlyn hears a voice through the hole in the hull, and hops off the counter, moving over with Delilah to the missing plate, raising one hand in greeting. "Hey, cap'n Grey!" she yells back down to him. "What're ya doin' wanderin about in the scrapheaps?" No matter that he could ask right back, what are you doing /living/ here, but that's neither here nor there.

Lucinda is left with two hands full of butter, as Delilah abandons her for the pursuit of MAN. Sighing, she moves to put it in the refridgeration unit herself. As she tucks the butter substance into a knook on the door, she frowns at how things are organized. While the others are occupied with inviting Grey up for water and work, she goes about rearranging things as inconspicuously as possible. Cheese units should go here. Pickled items need to go down on -that- shelf. Processed meat products should go down in the drawer and well out of her sight. Yes.

Grey grins broadly and waves his arms. "'Ey, Captain Ashlyn, Delilah! Cold water, I'll be up in a flash!" And true to his word, he navigates his way up the ship in mere seconds, driven by the thought of cool, refreshing water. Now, up-close, it's very visible that Grey is heavily tanned, stark against the neutral colors of his flightsuit. "I'm jus' out here tryin' to scrounge about for some decent used parts," he says to Ashlyn in answer to her previous question. "Seein' if I can't get that Scorpio of mine up an' functional again, replace some of the parts and systems, even." He looks about the interior of the ship, nodding to himself. "Not bad, not bad. Doctor Delray! Nice to see you again." He looks around to the others gathered. "Owe this woman my life." He nods to reaffirm his statement before grinning and gesturing aroundh im. "What's this all about, then?"

Delilah flings her arms around Grey for a hug. Let someone else get the man water, hugs are far more important, especially for men whom she was with when their world got turned upside down. "Capn' Grey," she says again, as though affirming it's him. "Wanna stay fer dinner? I'm making deli sub sandwiches with all the fixin's an' Lu an' I are gonna go out an' buy a watermelon." When Grey says he owes Lu his life, Delilah peers at her curiously. "Which one is that?" she asks.

"So do most a us," Ashlyn says, grinning at Lucinda. "Water's `bout the only thing we've had fer a while seein' as the fridge's been down, so we got lots a it." She gestures to the refridgerator that Lucinda is digging in. "As for what it's about?" Ashlyn gestures around to the ship around them. "We got us a new ship!" she says with a grin.

Lucinda straightens abruptly as someone uses her professional name, of course, causing her to smack her head smartly on the inside of the refrigerator as she had literally absorbed herself in her work. "Fuck." The good doctor cusses, uncharacteristically as she emerges, rubbing her head ruefully. Her face is flushed, probably a combination from embarrassement at a) hitting her head b) cussing because of it and c) all this talk about her saving people's lives. "Captain..." She greets Grey, using the term Delilah uses for lack of a better one. When she pulls back her hand, there's a few droplets of blood on her fingertips. With a sigh and an overwhelming urge to retreat, she says quietly. "If you all will excuse me. I better tend to this." Leaving her fridge feng shui for another time.

"Oof!" Grey exclaims when hugged by Delilah. "Down, girl. And yes, that /is/ a hydraulic alignment pipe in my pocket, though I /am/ happy to see you." He grins and runs his fingers through his short hair. "The one where I was poisoned in a pub, and she happened to charge in and resuscitate me," he summarizes for Delilah. "And dinner sounds wonderful. Just got so damn caught up in this stuff that I worked straight through lunch!" He grins and nods to Ashlyn. "Congrats on the new ship. Guess she needs a tiny bit of work first, though, yeah?" He nods to the hole in the hull. "Nothin' doin', how's the rest of her? Engines, life support, most things good?" He seems a bit sad when Lucinda decides to retreat - especially since the injury seems to be his fault. "Sorry..." he offers weakly.

Lucinda gives Grey a pinched smile as she exits, her hand back to rubbing at her lump forming on her scalp. Its really not his fault, though. Lu tends to retreat from everyone that she's not doctoring.

Delilah looks extremely, extremely confused when Grey starts talking about pipes with innuendo. Delilah doesn't do innuendo. "Uhh...I'm happy ta see ya too, Capn' Grey," she says baffled, giving him a look of 'you're so weird.' "No, I was jus' asking Lu which dot on her arm was fer the time she - " But Lu is gone by the time Dela turns around, and she frowns. "I shoulda known it would be too much ta expect her ta come shoppin' with me," she sighs. "I was really hopin' she would, though. She ain't never talked ta me less she had ta." When Grey asks about the life support, she turns to Ashlyn and grins.

"Don't let it get under yer skin," Ashlyn tells Delilah as Lucinda excuses herself. She smiles at Grey. "Well, this is the room in the best repair," she says with a chuckle. "Not a whole lot works yet. An' don't worry. I ain't gonna make ya help with the air conditionin'." She shakes her head a little. "With me, Cid, an'... everone, we'll get it online soon enough." Was there a pause before 'everyone'?

Grey chuckles as well when Ashlyn alludes to the state of the ship. "Air conditioning, I'm no good with. It's the main guts of the ship that I'm somewhat knowledgeable with. If you need a hand with that..." He grins and shrugs a shoulder. "My ship ain't too far from this place neither, so it'd make sense for me to come over and give you folks a hand once in a while. Mine is functional, I'm just trying to replace some of the old and worn-down parts 'fore I take her up."

Delilah scrunches her brows and looks over at Ashlyn quickly. "Suji's stayin' ta help us, right?" she asks quickly, concerned. "I mean, he acted the other day like he was gonna be 'round fer a while, an' he knows an' awful lot 'bout that stuff. He's stayin', right?" Moving to the fridge again, she opens it and grabs a water bottle for Grey, though she pauses when she sees the state of the stores inside. "Aww, Lu," she sighs, tossing the bottle in Grey's direction before focusing on reordering everything the way she had it before. "Ya know, I had this stuff in here like this fer a reason..." Grumble grumble grumble.

"Yeah," Ashlyn says. "Suji'll be around a while as far as I know..." But here she turns her attention back to Grey. "But, uh... If anyone asks `bout him, Grey... This ain't where he is." She offers up a rueful smile, deciding it's too late to try and pull one over somehow without looking the total fool.

Grey chuckles yet again, snatching the waterbottle out of the air with a deft hand. "Right. Suji, not here." He only repeats the name he hears used - he only met Sujiko once, to his recollection, and it was brief. Still, it's simple to respect the wishes of friends. "My ship's still in storage, and I think I might've drunkenly offered crewmanship the other night to some nurse."

Delilah peers back from her reorganizing to arch an eyebrow at Grey. "A nurse?" she asks, running her hands in her hair to get it out of her face. "Was she pretty?" She winks, much as she did the day she tried to play matchmaker and hook Lucinda up with Grey. "An' are ya gonna keep her now that yer sober?" Her attention goes back to the fridge and she finally seems to have everything in order, because she shuts the door and grabs the package of freshly baked sub bread sticking out of a bag. "Ya ain't 'lergic ta anythin', are ya? An' ya like most things what might go onna sandwich?"

Ashlyn smiles gratefully. "Thank you, Grey," she says. Shifting the toolbelt on her hips she looks over her shoulder at Delilah. "Delilah? I'm gonna go see what's ta be done fer the life-support. Maybe I'll have the air workin' inside the week an' can finally have that piece of hull welded on, eh?" She takes a few steps back toward the engine room. "You know where ta find me," she says with a smile.

Grey shrugs. "I'm thinkin' a pullin' the Scorpio out for at least one job. I'll hafta rename her, of course, an' get her officially registered an' all. My papers should still be in orders from the Invictus, landing permits an' Merchant Guild dues and all that good citizen nonsense. Nurse might be handy. What I really need are operators, a pilot, an' a sturdy deckhand." He opens the bottle of water and takes a long swig of it. "Hoo, that's good. Jus' steer clear of mushrooms an' shrimp an' you're fine by me there, Delilah." He smiles and nods to Ashlyn. "Don't hesitate to send me a WAVE or public frequencies if you need my help for anything, yeah? I don't got too much to do these days."

Delilah smirks when he doesn't answer if the nurse is pretty or not, but instead yanks food out of the fridge. Meats, cheeses, and various vegetables and dressings are lined up one by one on the counter as she groups them based on sandwiches - Italian, Greek, etc. "Well, yer safe there, cuz I don't put mushrooms on deli sandwiches, an' shrimp are too 'spensive!" she beams, busy at work. "So, ya think yer gonna have yer ship ready in time ta go ta Ashlyn's weddin'?"

Grey blinks. "Wedding?" Blink blink, pause, blink. "She's getting /married/?" This seems to take him aback, and he can't help but chuckle yet again. "Well, well, well. I guess I wasn't invited. Or maybe I /was/ invited, but drunk at the time." He leans back against the wall and finishes the bottle of water off - thirsty, this one - and tosses the bottle up and down. "I dunno, it'll depend on whether or not I can find the parts - and the manpower. When's the wedding supposed to be? And where?"

"Well, we ain't sure on the when, which is why ya ain't been invited yet - no one really has. 'Cept us in the weddin'. But right now we know it's on Newhall, an' my Pa is leavin' his restaurant on Lilac ta come help me cook. An' Bish's gonna wear a tux iffn' I gotta put him in it myself." A look of despair crosses her face when she thinks about the fact that it just might come down to that. "An' it'll be on the beach on Newhall," she finished, beginning to assemble the various sandwiches. "Are ya really drunk that often?" she adds with a concerned tone, looking around to glance at him with worried eyes. "It seems ta be a trend in yer stories."

Grey shrugs sheepishly. "I drink," he says, as though this explains everything. "I'd hafta see if any of my old suits fit me. Well, minor details. Hain't been to Newhall in a while." He watches her compile her ingredients into sandwich form, not terribly interested, but not bored, either. "Well, if you're cookin', I guess I'll show up. Can't go wrong with that, yeah?"

"Well, Capn' Grey, Matty drank too, ya know," Delilah remarks. "But she drank too /much/. Had too much hurt in her life that she was tryin' ta drown out. I know last time we talked ya seemed awful down an' hurtin', an' I already tried ta get ya ta talk ta me 'bout that, an' I ain't gonna try again iffn' ya don't want me to. But I already watched one friend go down like that, an' I really ain't lookin' ta see 'nother go through it as well." She beams when Grey compliments her cooking, and adds, "Ya think I'm a good cook, ya gotta meet my Pa. He's jus' the best, Capn' Grey, he really is. I can't wait ta see him again. Lilac's always too far away from where I am."

Grey smiles wryly. "Well, I don't drink too much, so never you fear." He says nothing on down and hurting. "Lilac sure is a far ways out. It's not always justifiable to take a ship all that way - 'specially into 'Reaver' territory. Says a lot that he's comin' out for this occasion." He fumbles around in his pockets, then looks up. "Is smoking allowed on this ship, anyhow?"

"Yeah, but they all say that," Delilah grins at Grey, though she's letting the topic drop. "S'why they sent me away, ya know. Reavers an' all that. But Ash is my best friend - she's my family. They done too much fer me already fer Pa not ta come out an' cook fer her, an' gettin' ta see me is jus' an' added bonus." She looks around the Commons and grins. "I think he's bringin' me a dishwasher as a present, too." The sandwiches done, she shuts the bread 'lid' on them and begins cutting them into portions. "Is smokin' allowed?" she laughs, gesturing to the huge open vent in the hole. "I can't imagine it matters much right now, truthfully."

"That's what I figured, but better safe than sorry, right?" Grey lights up and sighs happily. "Mm. I can't even imagine gettin' married. How'd that even work, being all out in the Black and stuff? I know people /do/ it, but... I don't get it." He smiles faintly. "Especially when one is a Captain. Kinda complicates things, don't you think?"

Delilah smiles right back. "Not with Ash an' Bish, no. They work jus' perfect, fer all that Bishop is a goof an' Ash is the Captain. I dunno, he jus' never challenges her an' she listens ta him, an' it jus'...works." Moving some sandwich slices onto a plate for him, she holds it out and gestures to the various kinds. "Italian with salami, pastrami, mozzarella, balsamic vinegar and sundried tomatoes. This one's Greek, with feta cheese, gyro meat, olives, an' lettuce. An' that one is bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, red onions, cheddar cheese, an' avacado." She looks about as proud of these as one might a four course meal. "The avacado an' the sundried tomatoes are all special an' whatnot. Guy said they were hard ta find an' I was lucky he had 'em in!"

Grey looks down at the sandwich slices. "I don't even know what half those things /are/," he chuckles. "Thanks." He tries the one, and nods in approval. "Yeah, hey, not bad at all. I'm not a big sandwich guy, so that's pretty good in my books." He shuts up for a bit to take a few more bites, the cigarette abandoned by now. "Bishop... Don't think I know the name. In fact, I don't think I know a lot of people on your ship. Mainly you and Ashlyn."

Delilah laughs. "Well, Bishop is our Couch Guy. We hired him on when Ash realized he was homeless after the Grace was grounded, so she had Suji let him stay on the ship, an' he kinda jus' stuck with us. He flies, sometimes, though now that we got the Compass I'm bettin' he'll be our regular pilot. Ain't got no one else now that Matrix didn't come with us." She seems to glow when Grey says he likes the sandwiches, and hops up on the counter next to the rest of the food, since there's no one else in here at the moment to serve. "Then there's Lu, although I ain't sure iffn' she's stickin' 'round fer good after we get offground. An' of course, there's Miya. Err, Torres, actually, but I jus' call him Miya. He's our...well, I guess he's our gunhand. Used ta be a Sheriff somewheres. Although he's been doin' work on the ship I didn't even know he knew how ta do, so maybe he's gonna do engineer work, too." Crossing her legs, she begins to swing them like a little girl. "An' I think that's 'bout it. An' Suji, a course, though iffn' he ain't comin' back as Captain then I guess he'd be our engineer, too. Left ta start his own security firm, but I think somethin' went wrong there."

"An impressive roster," Grey says, munching on the sandwiches. "I'm left to wonder what kind of crew would be attracted to the old beast I've got sitting in the shed. A wandering nurse, apparently, is one." He makes short work of the sandwiches rather quickly, most of it gone while listening to Delilah list off her crew roster. "If I keep flying after the one job. If." He glances out the breach in the hull to the horizon of Boros and sighs slightly. "Gettin' on late... I was hoping to find at least the one part today. Maybe I'll have better luck tomorrow." He gets up with a grunt. "I gotta get headin' back to my ship, finish off the work I started this mornin' while I've still got the wiring schematics fresh in my brain. I'm out maybe ten kays from here, the ship's in an actual storage facility a ways from the Spaceport. Like I said to Ashlyn, jus' send a WAVE or something if you need me for anythin', yeah?" He smiles and winks to Delilah, and starts heading on his way. He pauses in the doorway for a second and looks back. "Oh yeah, and thanks for the food. It was right delicious."

Grey couldn't have given her a better compliment if he'd told her she was the most beautiful woman in all the world. "Well, why don't ya plan on eatin' with us, then?" she asks quickly, hopping off the counter to move over towards him. "Ain't no sense in you not sharin' our meals an' eatin' that nasty Dock food instead all the time. Make ya sick, it will. An' let Ash know what parts yer lookin' fer, we can scout fer 'em while we get our own stuff, yeah?" She smiles and wraps her arms around him in a big hug. "An' I wouldn't be so sure yer ship is what that nurse is attracted to," she murmurs into his shoulder, the smile evident in her voice. "Oh, yeah," she adds as she pulls back, "An' let me know iffn' ya see any Browncoats around, alright?" She giggles and wrinkles her nose. "I'm in the market fer one."

Watermelon Plans and Suji's Return - IC Time: March 27, 2518

2008-05-06T01:25:26Z

Ashlyn pulls her bandana back from her hair and wipes the sweat off her forehead with her arm as she steps back from the stove, which indeed now looks like a stove, not a rusted out husk. Her tank top is soaked with sweat and muck, as are her shorts, and she drops her wrench into her toolbelt as she sizes up the appliance. Gingerly, she reaches out for the burner knob, her fingers twitching over it hesitantly.

Delilah is standing over Ashlyn's shoulder, biting her lip hard and nearly swaying with the effort not to bounce from foot to foot. She's in cutoff jean shorts and a purple t-shirt, which clings to her sweaty skin. "Hurry, Ash, hurry!" she whispers urgently, as though speaking too loudly would cause the stove to explode. "I can't stand the suspense!" Grinning, she goes back to chewing her lower lip and peering.

"Gha!" Perhaps Ashlyn didn't know Delileh was so close behind her. Grinning back at the cook, she chuckles and prods the knob again once before flipping it on. Blue and yellow flame spring to life on one of the burners with a quiet 'whoosh!' "Yes!" she cheers, turning back to Delilah. "Well, that's one more thing off the ta-do list," she says. We get the life-support an' the cooler workin' an this place'll be downright comfy."

This is such an immensely exciting moment, it calls for a hug. Delilah flings her arms around Ash, though she's at least careful of the burning flame behind them. "Yer marvelous, Ash!" she cries, beaming from ear to ear. "Now I can boil water an' get ta work on cleanin' it up in here, an' iffn' I can get the dust out I can go buy some new plates an' whatnot, an' then start cookin' small meals so we ain't gotta eat puppy meat er fish'nstuff, an' - /ohmyLord/ does that mean the oven'll work now, too? Cuz I can bake stuff...well, maybe not till we get the air workin', or we'll all die of heat 'posure. But I could bake cookies an' bread an' stuff so it ain't got that nasty smell in here!" Letting go of the Captain and settling back on her own two feet, she begins to survey the room, looking for the next conquest. "I can go shoppin' now, right?" she asks warily.

"Nasty smell?" Ashlyn asks, sniffing experimentally as she returns the hug. "I don't smell nothin'..." But before taking the captain's word as law, one is forced to wonder just how many times the woman's burned off every last one of her nose hairs in the course of her repairs. "Should be safe ta cook," she says as she lets her go. "I mean, it can only get so hot in here, an' I think it's reached that point already." She chuckles slightly. "So long as we don't get nothin' needs refrigeration or yer gonna use it soon as ya get it in, that's fine. Or you could drop a block a dry ice in there as a temporary fix."

Delilah looks suspiciously over at the fridge. "How long till ya think that's up an' runnin'?" She crosses over to the sink area and pulls out a dingy bucket, a washrag, and some cleaning supplies that look to be new. While filling the bucket with also dingy water, she comments over her shoulder, "Cause iffn' yer not thinkin' it'll be too long, now that we got the stove workin', I can run out an' grab the pots an' pans and whatnot ya guys said I could buy new - anythin' that's touchin' food, right? I think that's what Bish said. An' I'll grab some groceries while I'm out. Won't be able ta 'fridgerate leftovers iffn' it ain't done today, but I can always invite Capn' Grey over ta have some, that'd make 6 of us. An' menfolk can put away an' awful lot of food, so chances are we ain't gonna have nothin' leftover. Whatcha in the mood fer?"

Ashlyn scratches the back of her head as she considers the cooler. "I dunno," she admits. "I'd need ta take her apart b'fore I could say how broken she is. /Might/ be able ta get it workin' taday, but if not, like I said, throw a chunk a dry ice on the top shelf, it'll keep it plenty cool `till it /is/ repaired." She looks down at her stomach as it growls (seems she's still not feeding herself) and prods it as if she can coax it to give the answer for what it wants. "Erm... Whadda ya wanna cook?" she asks. "Because I'm good ta eat pretty much anything." She offers up a sheepish grin. "Have I ever not liked anythin' you've made?"

"Well, no," Delilah admits with a grin as she throws open the door of the fridge and makes a face at the dead foot smell coming from inside. Dunking the cleaning rag in the bucket now full of a bleach-like chemical and water, she begins the scrub the inside vigorously. "But that don't mean ya don't get cravin's sometimes, er that I ain't takin' special requests. Everyone always tells me ta make whatever...but I like makin' things people ask fer specificlike, so's I can be sure I'm makin' somethin' they wanted." She coughs as she leans farther into the fridge, breathing in more chemical+decaying mushroom smell. "Got any idea what my budget is like fer the shoppin'?"

"Well, lemme think..." Ashlyn says as she leans back against the island counter. "Watermelon? It's about the season, ain't it? An' lemonade. Strawberry lemonade." She grins and wipes her hands on her shorts. "I know it ain't a meal, but it's what I always used ta eat when it was hot back on the ranch. I get the cooler workin' we could even freeze the watermelon, too. My mom used ta do that."

Looking extremely relieved at the suggestion, giggles and comments, "Yeah, we loved watermelons too. An' I love strawberries somethin' fierce. They're my favorite food, actually. Alright, here's what I'll do. I'll make the lemonade, an' we'll have watermelons an' ice cream fer dessert. An' I can get some chicken an' soak it in sauce today, an' we'll grill it outside tonight so's the ship don't get worse an' hot. Maybe salad, too. Hmm. I oughta check the markets here, iffn' this stuff ain't grown local, it might be too pricey." She gets that faraway look in her eye that appears when she plans a menu, or her dream kitchen. "Yeah, strawberry salad," she murmurs, scrubbing the fridge without really watching what she's doing. "Need ta find a date anyways..."

Ashlyn grins at Delilah. "Date, huh?" she asks, folding her arms across her middle as she watches Delilah work. Making a mess is more her forte, not so much cleaning it up. "You got some bloke in mind?"

All wide-eyed innocence once more. "N-no!" Delilah stammers, looking around nervously. "I jus' thought...y'know, with yer weddin' comin' up an' all...it'd be awful lonely not ta have a date ta go to it with." She wrings out the rag of dirtiness and dunks it once more in the bucket. "Ain't been interested in anybody since...well. Y'know. Thought I maybe oughta try lookin' 'steada hidin' out in the ship, or the motel room, ya know? My Pa's gettin' awful twitchy 'bout grandkids." She grins and scrubscrubs more.

"Well, hidin' won't get ya no where," Ashlyn agrees with a nod. "But you look too hard, yer apt ta miss what it is ya really want." She crosses over to the sink and turns it on. The water at least runs clear now. Scrubbing the unidentifiable muck accumulated in the now refurbished stove from her hands, she looks over her shoulder at Delilah. "I didn't mean anythin', just sounded like you was lookin' fer a date fer dinner tanight, not my weddin'."

The galley of the Compass is not so much in shambles as it might be, but it's certainly not the Theory. The counters are old and worn, and the saving grace of the slowly disintegrating couches in the lounge is that they're more or less comfy when covered in a protective layer of plastic. Ashlyn leans against the island counter beside the stove, and Delilah scrubs out the refridgerator. The life-support and the attatched temperature control seem to be offline, otherwise the later would certainly be engaged. The spring sun beating on the ship has left the climate inside none-too comfortable, but the skylight waiting for a replacement, and the rather large piece of hull sheared away opening to the Boros junkyards lets in enough air to keep it from being stagnant as well as hot.

Delilah turns beet red and keeps her eyes on the fridge, clearing a small patch of white amongst the filth. Her cutoff jeans and purple t-shirt are quickly getting disgusting. "I ain't really the type ta jus' run out an' snag somebody fer a dinner date, y'know. I ain't lookin' fer someone ta take me out on Friday nights an' not see again. I want somebody I ain't gonna regret takin' ta yer weddin' a few months on down the line. I don't know what kinda men they get here on this rock, but I figure they gotta be better than the kinda men what ain't here on this empty ship, y'know?" She straighens up and wipes her hands on her jeans. "Ya still plannin' on havin' it on Paquin, right?"

Ashlyn looks around the ship for a moment. "Paquin. Newhall. Here," she says. "I don't s'pose it terribly matters. But I think I still like the idea of Newhall." She shrugs a little with an easy smile. "I do like the beach." She reaches out and pushes the microwave door shut. It stays where it is for a few moments before slowly opening again. Ashlyn frowns softly to herself and steps up to it, pulling a screw driver out of her toolbelt. "Don't look at it like a race ta get a date ta my weddin'. Then ya might very well regret it. `Side's, weddin' ain't /that/ far off."

The clomping of boots announce the arrival of Cid as he appears at the aft hall entryway. Stopping there, he wipes his forehead with a bare arm. His brown T-shirt is covered in dirt and grime, and his face isn't much better. "Just about done with the charger unit to the generator." He says to Ash. Glancing around he asks, "We got any bottles a water left?"

Delilah makes a 'wow I'm dumb' face for a moment and nearly smacks her forehead, though she thinks better of this when she remembers how filthy her hand is. "That's right, Newhall. I dunno why I was thinkin' Paquin. I like Newhall, too. Plus, all the food I got planned is all beachy." Because obviously, the food plan matching the atmosphere is what one plans a wedding location around. As she watches Ash fiddle with the microwave with a wry smile, she mumbles, "I ain't gonna race, I promise. I'll take m'time. I was jus' thinkin' that I oughtta start lookin', is all, an' what better place than a market, ya know?" She snickers and looks to where Cid has just walked in to flash him a grin. "I dunno, but this time tomorrow they jus' might be cold bottles a'water, think 'bout that!"

"I'll have ta get somethin' round here workin' ta take advantage a that," Ashlyn says to Cid as she pops the door off the microwave and sets it asside, digging her screwdriver into the latching mechanism. "Should have the refridgerator up in the next few days, an' the life-support... well, soon as humanly possible. I'm gettin' kinda sick a this heat. But yeah, we got a lot a bottles a water still. Long as ya don't mind that they're slightly cool in comparison ta the weather at best." She hooks a thumb toward one of the cabinets.

Cid nods to Ash, walking to the cabinet indicated. "What ya lookin' for, Del?" he says to the culinary artiste. "Weddin' stuff for Ash? Is that happenin' soon?" Opening the cabinet he grabs a bottle, then turns around. "Anyone want a bottle?"

Delilah colors when Cid asks what she's looking for, and seems to debate. Lie? Tell the truth? Lying is against Delilah's beliefs! But telling the truth means great embarrassment! "I'm...jus' thinkin' 'bout who ta invite with me," she admits. Close enough to the truth so she won't burn in hell, but far away enough so that he won't think she's going speed dating. "An' I don't think Ash picked a date yet. 'Less I'm wrong. Am I wrong, Ash? Have ya picked a date? That reminds me, I need ta take Bish out shoppin' an' whatnot." Whew, focus off her.

Ashlyn shoves whatever component was out of whack back into place. It settles with a click as she works the screw drive around inside the mechanism. "Date? I was thinkin' I was gonna take Bish-Oh! /Date/." She sets the tool asside and picks up the door again, pressing it back into place and holding it as she reaches for the screws to secure it. "Naw, still just summer. An' no thanks, Torres. I got enough clutter ta keep track a without wonderin' where my water went." She holds one the the screws between her teeth with a grin as she replaces the first.

No one taking up Cid on his offer, he twists the bottle cap open, then has a long drink, depleting the bottle by a third in one fell swoop. Cid looks at Del then, wheels turning inside his head. He has another drink of water, leaning back against the counter.

"So, we were thinkin' 'bout eatin' grilled chicken an' salad an' strawberry lemonade an' watermelon tonight fer dinner," Delilah calls to Torres from where she's returning to scrubbing more of the fridge back to white. "All that sound good ta ya? An' any chance I could get ya ta take a break from the engine stuff ta carry it all back fer me when I'm done?" She winks at him from across the room. "An' are ya havin' any food cravin's lately?"

"You fergot the icecream," Ashlyn says with a slight smile as she replaces the last screw. "Ya can't get me lookin' all forward ta it, then ferget about it." She opens nad closes the microwave door a few times. "That's better." She leans back against the counter again with a sigh, and wipes the sweat off her forehead.

Cid nods distractedly to Del,leaning back against the counter with a bottle of water. "Sure, just holler when ya need me." He pauses, tapping the bottle mouth against his lips, then stops. "You know, Del, I could WAVE Deco if ya needed someone ta come with at Ash's wedding. I think he'd really enjoy it. He likes that stuff." His eyes dart to Ashlyn in surprise. "Ice cream? We got ice cream?"

Grinning, Delilah snickers and makes a fake pouty face at Ashlyn. "Aww, poor Ash, are you cravin' ice cream after all this hot heat? I'll have ta make sure an' write it big an' bold on m'list, then." She'd probably say more, but then Miya suggests she take Deco to the wedding, and she turns much more red than before. "I...uhh...Deco?" she blurts out, looking frantically at Ash. "Uhh...me an' Deco? Go ta the weddin' tagether?" As she fumbles for the right words to say, her eyes widen and she jawdrops at Torres. "Ya really think I ain't gonna be able ta find someone?" she asks in a tiny, hurting, worried voice.

"My stomach's been growling since I woke up," Ashlyn says, using the screwdriver to clean the junk out from under her nails with a lopsided smile. "I'm cravin' `bout anything, but cold would certainly be better. An' more reason if I needed it ta fix the fridge." She leans heavily against the counter and lets herself slide down to the floor.

Cid looks at Del, puzzled, leaning back against the counter with a water bottle in hand. "What? I was just suggestin' is all. You two would probly have a lotta fun. He's good like that. Loves parties an' stuff." A last tentative glance at Del, then the gunhand says to Ash, "I got some chips in the top cabinet. You want any, have at it."

Delilah mumbles something about men, and dates, and weddings, but really, it's too low to hear coherently. "I guess I'll let ya know, Miya," she says, "But I'd rather try m'luck first, ya know. See iffn' I can't get somebody fer a real date. Although I'm sure Deco is invited anyways?" She looks over at Ashlyn for confirmation. "I'm assumin' so, anyways. We gotta sit down soon an' figure out exactly whose gonna be there, so's I can let my Pa know the numbers fer the food. I already talked ta him 'bout it an' he's plannin' ta come, we jus' gotta work out the menu an' the headcount an' he's all set." She makes a face when Miya mentions chips, but doesn't comment. "Wonder how much clothes I gotta wear to the market ta be considered 'decent'," she muses.

From where such messages would emit, a voice can be heard. "Sujiko Tokari to..." there's a pause. "Who'm I callin' anyway? Can't rightly call ya' the Theory no more..." there's another pause. "Ash? 'lilah? Y'all 'round? Got m'self a mighty need fer a place t' be, if'n ya' don't mind takin' me in a bit. I'm outside."

Ashlyn looks up at the indicated cabinet, but doesn't immediatly move toward the snack food. Her first glance is directed towrad the refridgerator, obviously debating which option is more important. But in the end, the matter is decided by a loud rumble from her stomach as she heads over to the cabinets. "Thanks, Torres. Apt ta not even be able ta hear myself think o'er the growling pretty soon," she says with a grin as she snags the chips, checking her hands for grease (the bad kind) before grabbing a handful. "Deco's invited," she assures Delilah, before looking her up and down with a somewhat confused expression. "What's wrong with what yer wearin'?" she asks, sounding generally confused as she pops a chip into her mouth. At the sound of Sujiko's voice eminating over the speaker, Ashlyn very narrowly manages not to drop the bag, depositing it on the counter as she bolts over to the hole in the hull. "Ghuh-ghuh!" she yells, waving her arm and beaming. "We're up here!"

Cid shrugs to Del. "Look fine ta me, too" He has a last drink of water, finishing it. Watching Ash eat away, Cid tosses the empty bottle in a waste bag by the counter. Pushing off the counter, he's headed to the aft hall when the comm blares, and Ash goes running to the gap in the hull. Looking back at Del, he says, "Who was that again?"

Delilah blinks down at her filthy purple shirt and her way short cutoff jean shorts, and swallows hard. "Go ta the market in this, Ash? I might as well paint the word Hooker on my - " She stops dead when she hears the voice, and squeals as she flings the bucket and rag into the sink, sending dirty water everywhere. "Suji, that was Capn' Suji!" she yells at Torres, flailrunning out of the room to get to the outside of the ship and jump onto the new arrival. "He's here, he's here!"

Poor Sujiko nearly soils himself when he looks up and sees Ashlyn looking down at him... through a large hole! "What th' gorram hell happened up there?!" he exclaims. "Looks like someone gone'n take a bite outta' 'er!" Hearing the screams of delight, his face falls a moment as things dawn on him: The ship is filthy, he's dressed nice, and there are surely flying hug tackles in his immediate future. "I'll uh..." he pauses, glancing toward the presumably open hatchway. "I'll let m'self in."

Ashlyn grins. "Just some corrosion," Ashlyn calls down. "Got a replacement for the plate an' the insulation already." She points to what looks to indeed be a replacement piece of hull sitting beside a nearby junk pile. "But it's too hot in here ta convince me ta get that welded on!" she adds with a grin. "I'll be right down!" She ducks back inside the galley and makes her way hurriedly down to the cargo bay after Delilah, looking back at Torres with a grin.

Cid wanders over to the hole in the hull, intent on seeing the previous captain once again. "Saw him once," he says to himself. "Huh."

Delilah emerges from the hatch and barring Suji secretly knowing Force magic, he's jumphugattacked by a very dusty, dirty, scantily clad Delilah. "I missed ya!" she manages out while wrapping her arms around his neck. "Are ya stayin' fer good or at least a long long time, say yes say yes say yes!"

Sujiko glances over toward the pile Ash gestured to, and then back up to the hole and offering Cid a wave before making his way toward the hatchway. Sure enough, out comes Delilah, and quite expectedly, Sujiko is powerless to do anything but stand and be messified. "Heya 'lilah," he grunts, squirming a little bit. "Uh, prob'ly lookin' that way. Might be that we oughta' talk 'bout all that inside though." He sneaks a glance around and apparently finds nothing of particular interest.

Ashlyn is only a few steps behind Delilah, and just as nearly airborn. In a matter of moments Sujiko will have both women attatched to him as Ashlyn, too, seems to have no respect for his continues cleanliness. "I ain't seen you in /ages/!" she cries happily. "Yer welcome as long as ya want, you know that!" But her smile falters slightly as what he says sinks in a little. "Yeah, come in. Ain't terrible ready fer guests, but our home's yers. Is somethin' up?"

Cid waves back at Sujiko, then makes his way into the aft hall to finish the charger unit. Might as well leave 'em be, get all caught up an' such. He chuckles to himself, then disappears past the hatch.

Delilah is as oblivious as usual. "Oh, ya came jus' in time, I'm gonna go ta the market an' get stuff ta cook so we ain't gotta eat horrible dock food, cuz Ash jus' got the stove workin' an' then she's gonna fix the fridge an' OH, now that yer here it'll go even faster!" She slides off Suji to make room for Ashlyn to snuggle, but continues just as excitedly. "An' I get ta buy all new pots an' pans an' dishes an' /everythin'/!" She beams and just watches them hug, practically bouncing from foot to foot.

Sujiko, though bothered by something, can't help but laugh at Delilah's exuberance. "Yeah, I missed you folks," he says, pointing toward the hatchway. "Got some stuff I oughta' let you guys know 'bout first though." He glances down at himself and tries to brush himself off a little, but alas, his clothes will need a washing. "Been busy then have ya'?" he asks as he starts toward the hatchway.

"Ain't we always?" Ashlyn asks, letting go. She laughs apologetically when she realises that through a joint effort with Delilah, Sujiko's now as filthy as they are. "Sorry, Suji," she says, falling in beside him as they head toward the hatchway. "You got bags or anythin'?" she asks, lifting one hand to shade herself against the sun before the interior of the ship takes the job over for her.

Delilah frowns as she follows them in, asking quietly, "Somethin' wrong, Suji? We ain't got much in there but bottles a water an' a bag a chips, but iffn' ya don't mind tellin' us yer story, I'd rather hear it than wait fer dinner." She fiddles with a hair band on her wrist as they walk, and begins tying her hair up off her sweaty neck and out of her face. "Torres is in there too, somewheres, but I don't think y'all really got ta know one 'nother," she remarks.

"I swear to everything, if you people ever send me out for food again, you're all gettin' the same damn thing. Moldy bread and rain water." The voice speaks from somewhere near the entrance of the ship and is easily identified as lush extraordinaire, Bishop.

As they make their way through the cargo bay, Sujiko glances again over his shoulder. Apparently satisfied with what he sees - or rather, doesn't see - he explains. "Welp. Got m'self a bit o' a pickle." Hearing Bishop's voice, he can't help but smirk. "Put'cher pants on Bish, ya' got a guest!" he hollers, of course referring to himself.

The war between being upset over Sujiko's prediciment and being overjoyed that both Bishop and Sujiko are in her general vicinity momentarily comes to a draw in Ashlyn's head. There is a moment of totally blank noncomprehension, which just as quickly gives way to a wide smile at Bishop's arrival. "Jason! What did you pick up?" she calls, turning to face his voice and bouncing on her toes. "Suji's here!" She turns halfway back to Sujiko and says somewhat more quietly and less happily, "How bad is this 'pickle'?"

Of course, all points seems to be converging in the cargo bay, or at least one more that is. Lucinda appears on the catwalks above, seeming to come from the main corridor that leads to the guest bunks and of course, the medbay. Her hands rest on the railing as she leans over it to peer down at the cause of the commotion. "Sujiko." She says moreso to herself in confirmation than any way of formal greeting. At least she's smiling.

Delilah is in complete despair at Bishop's words. "He got food?" she asks mournfully. "Nobody told me he went ta get food! But...but...the watermelons. An' the salad." Her voice lowers to a teeny, tiny pout of a level. "An' the strawberries...An' the men. Now there ain't gonna be no men. No flirtin' an' no men." She trails off and waves woefully to Lucinda. "Hey, Lu," she calls dejectedly. "Hope yer hungry. Real hungry. Like, starvin' hungry. Gosh darnit. I was really lookin' forward to them. It. The food. Not the men."

"Just sandwiches." Bishop says as he emerges with a brown sack. "And not much of them either" He doesn't mention why though there is a slightly playful glint in his eyes. Hearing Suji's voice, and finally emerging so he can see him, Bishop smirks. "You're dreaming if you think that A you warrant being company and B I'm putting pants on for you."

Sujiko grins a little at Delilah, but looks to Bishop. "Well, I'd say I 'preciate the gesture, but might be implyin' somethin' what ain't all the truth." He smirks, but looks back to Ash. "Le's get somethin'a eat first, yeah? Ain't no hurry or nothin'." Delilah gets an amused smirk, but says nothing.

Ashlyn isn't sure what to make of the sudden change in Delilah's mood, nor the bit about flirting with men. She just reaches out for Bishop's hand as he comes into view, with a soft smile. "Oh, yeah?" she asks him, lifting one eyebrow. "What? Were they out?" Despite Sujiko's assurances, she still gives him a slightly worried look. "Should we close the hatches an' all?" she asks him quietly.

Lucinda turns the practiced smile towards Delilah. Not having the heart to remind the dainty cook that she hardly ever eats, she puts as much belief behind, "Famished," as she can muster. "Watermelon sounds devine, but I would hate to make you leave the festivites to go shopping. Maybe we can both go in the morning, while everyone is still asleep." There, see? Who says Lu can't make an effort.

Delilah sighs and slumps against the wall. "Yeah, I guess sandwiches wouldn't be too bad," she grumbles. She starts to say more, but then Lucinda offers, and she just stares. "You wanna go with me, Lu?" she asks, amazement in her voice. "I, uh...yeah. I'd like that. Although we can jus' have a late dinner, an' I'm thinkin' 'bout headin' to the market after we visit with Suji. I'd love fer ya ta come, though. Ya wanna look fer a date with me?" She beams and winks. "So, what's goin' on, Suji?" she asks in his direction, crossing her arms in front of her. "It's so hard not ta call ya Capn'," she admits.

"Somethin' like that." Bishop says to Ashlyn, giving her hand a squeeze before setting the bag down and glancin' around. "What's with all the expressions and faces from y'all?"

Sujiko shifts a little bit where he stands. "Welp, seems there's some folks what don't much like the work I been doin'," he says. "'fact, might be that there's some folks after me fer what I found outta' some more secret like databases." He sighs and shakes his head. "Ain't no matter that they /hired/ me t' do that, but I seen what they's hidin' an' they ain't took so kindly to it."

Ashlyn squeezes Bishop's hand gently as she takes over the carying of the bag. "Shall we head up ta the Commons, then?" she asks the general assembled, gesturing up in it's direction. She gives a suspicious look at the main hatch, but just shakes her head and sighs. "Until the climate control's workin' I'd rather leave open ever door that can be open. But, Suji, when you say 'after' you..?" she asks. "I mean is it the bad kind a 'after' like they wanna steal yer PDA, or the /really/ bad kind a 'after'?"

And then Del had to go and wink, an expression that never fails to bring a blush to Lucinda's cheeks. "I'm in the market for watermelons only." She says matter of factly as she heads for the staircase. Hand skimming along the railing, she takes the stairs one at a time and with rhythmic footfalls. Lu's the mature non-bouncy one, afterall. "After reviewing the statistics, I've come to the realization that no one ever seems to return to the ship after a long absence with /good/ news." Oh damn. Now people are headed in her direction. Back up she goes.

Delilah listens to Suji speak, chewing her bottom lip as she does so. She sighs at Lu and nods. "Well, watermelons it is, then. Ya can be my wingman. I think that's what it's called. Ain't that what ya call somebody what comes with ya ta scope out dates?" She snickers a bit and gets ready to follow everyone upstairs. "I feel like I sound boy crazy," she remarks.

"Trouble." Bishop says looking at Suji and sighs softly before nodding his head. Leaning over he gives Ashlyn a kiss on the cheek. "I'll go unpack some of the... things I wasn't wanting to unpack earlier."

Sujiko peers at Delilah curiously as he falls in step to walk up the stairs. "Date?" he asks. "Fer somethin' in particular, or jus' got ya' got that--" he pauses. "Oh. Right." He glances at Ash and Bishop. "Yes. Date. Folks get them, don't they." He doesn't say anything more on the topic, though, musing quietly to himself. "But yeah, trouble. Ain't the good kind, neither. The really bad kinda' 'after'. You know, the one we folks seem good at attractin'."

Ashlyn returns the kiss as Bishop excuses himself. "Hurry back, Boa Bei," she says with a soft smile, making her way toward the stairs and the common room beyond. "Nah, Delilah. Yer just the regular kind a crazy," she offers with a smile. "Suji, you should know, when we split from the Theory, most a the gunhands stayed there. Athene, Chade... Matty." She shakes her head minutely. "Torres is with us still, an' he's a damned fine gunslinger, but we ain't as defensable as we uesed ta be." She reaches the top of the stairs (Whoops! Watch out for the missing one!) and turns around to watch the others come up after. "Not that the offer doesn't still stand. Anythin', an' I mean /anythin'/ we can do, we will."

Lucinda moves out of the way to the let the others pass her, choosing instead to bring up the rear. Lu was always a follower, not a leader. Unless you're in her surgical room, of course. "I think you're safe here for the time being. Who would think to check in the junkyard." She means that lovingly of course. "Besides, you have me again to patch up the holes. That should be somewhat reassuring."

Sujiko nods. "I really 'preciate it. I jus' don't wanna be bringin' nothin' down on you guys, 'specially knowin' what ya' do day in an' out anyways." He shoves his hands in his pockets and glances briefly back to Lu with a nod. "Yeah, was kinda' my thinkin' too. Fancy 'ole businessfeller like m'self ain't got no business in a junkyard, right?" he says with an insincere grin.

"What we been doin' day in an' day out lately's been fix this ship up," Ashlyn says with a smile. "Don't worry none. Everythin's always worked out so far. That ain't gonna change now." She shrugs a little as she enters the commons. "Sorry bout the mess," she states. "I got new furnature on it's way, but they couches are comfy if ya don't mind they're covered in plastic." She sets the bag of sandwiches on the counter.

A very short time later, Bishop returns into the common area with the others, his hip no longer empty of a firearm as he smirks a bit. "Well.... ya'll ain't eatin' none?" He asks in general before going to sit down himself still watching Suji. "What'd you get into? Did you stiff a whore again?"

Sujiko snorts at Bish. "Naw, ain't like that," he says, looking around the common area. Eerie, a place that's built and shaped like home, but looks like it's just fallen from space. "Got m'self a contract fer some important type folks. Ya' know - the guys what's got money, an' think 'f they pay ya' a bunch o' money they'll got all their security issues all fixified with not more'n a nod at whatever I tell 'em." Clearly, his line of work makes him a bit cynical about what he does. "Anyways, so they pay me t' look at their systems, test 'em fer holes and the like, an' sure 'nuff I get in an' find m'self starin' at stuff I'd rathera' not known 'bout."

Ashlyn walks up behind where Bishop is sitting, setting her hands on his shoulders gently. "Stuff like what?" she asks Sujiko, for now forgoing the food despite having spent the whole day not eating.

Where others fail, Lu shall prevail. She takes up the slightly greasy back of suspect sandwiches and moves to find a flat and relatively clean surface to set it on. Finding no plates, she opts for folded up paper towels as she sets about making sure the others don't fall down from malnurishment. Even though its sort of Deli's gig, she has to keep busy. "I'm...not so sure I want to know the details."

"Eat." Bishop says softly towards Ashlyn patting her hand, "I know you've worked all day... which means you haven't stopped to feed since I wasn't around to make you." He looks at Suji and grins a bit. "And now..."

Sujiko sighs, leaning up against the counter. "Not sure I wanna' tell ya', neither," he says. "'fact, prob'ly the reason they's after me's they're afraid I'ma tell someone." He folds his arms and looks at the sandwiches briefly, but seems uninterested, or at least not hungry. "Well I reckon I don't gotta tell ya' who it were," he reasons, figuring he won't be able to get away with not telling them anything. He does, however, offer a querying glance to Lucinda in case she'd rather not hear it.

Ashlyn chuckles a little. "'Feed,'" she repeats with a laugh. "Fine. Alright. You people making me take care of myself." She grins as she moves to take one of the sandwhiches. "Thanks, Lu," she says when she sees the doctor placing them on paper towels. "Nah, Suji, we done this dance with the whole Ryans incident. You know if ya don't tell us, they'll just assume ya did, right?" She smiles as if this doesn't bother her at all as she leans up against the counter and takes a bite of sandwitch.

The sandwich Lu's alloted for herself is pulled toward her, and the doctor starts to systematically peel off the crusts. Her gaze flicks up to catch Suji's glance, to which she responds, "As long as its not disturbing photographs of child pornography or instructions on how to flay small puppies, I'll survive." She tells him.

"Ash is right, as usual." Bishop says with a nod of agreement. "It's either spill it so we know what's going on, or don't spill it and we get caught with our pants down humpin' against the pilot's controls again until we crash into Ezra." He pauses and shifts his eyes around suspiciously.

Sujiko shakes his head. "None o' that so far's I know," he says to Lu. "An' it ain't a lot. Hints that there's somethin' goin on what I don't know." He peers at Bish for a moment, but snorts again. "Yeah. I figured's much." He pushes off the counter and fetches himself a sandwich of his own, changing his mind about ignoring them. "All I seen was a wave in their archives. One o' the 'mportant folk sendin' somethin'a someone else 'bout havin' some poor sap's family secured where he can't get 'em 'till he does the job." He shrugs. "Dunno what the job is or nothin' more'n that, but sounds like kidnappin' an' extortion an' all that."

Ashlyn swallows her bite of sandwich and looks at Bishop. "Again?" Sometimes there's really not much one can say to something. But if she was going to inquire if that was a euphemism or a riotously hilarious story, she holds her tongue and listens to Sujiko. "So who was it you was workin' for?" she asks quietly.

When her sandwich has been decrustified, Lucinda takes great pains to half the breadie goodness diagnally by carefully ripping it asunder with her fingers. "I really must stop visualizing everything." She mumbles, likely about Bishop's comment more so than Sujiko's.

Bishop glances at Lucinda and smirks a bit towards her, "Stop actin' like it ain't something you ain't seen before." He states jokingly before glancing towards Ashlyn and shrugs his shoulders without speaking. "Well Suji, you know you're safe here with yer family."

Sujiko smiles at Bishop. "Thanks," he says, but he's already peering at Ash. With a sigh, and knowing already that he won't be able to dodge this, he answers: "AGI Galactic," he says. "Ain't heard of 'em 'til they contacted me, an' I still don't rightly know what they do, but they's figured I'm a thorn in their side, despite th' privacy contract I signed with 'em, like I do all m' clients."

Ashlyn takes another bite of her sandwich and crosses back to Bishop to pull up a chair beside him. "So, someone attacked you after the job was o'er?" she asks, setting the sandwich on it's towel in front of her.

Lucinda has now spliced her sandwich but doesn't seem inclined to take a bite. Pausing for a moment, she looks to the hallway then seems to get an idea. "I better see that Torres has his dinner too." She flashes a practiced smile towards the group. "If you'll excuse me?"

Sujiko nods to ASh. "Yeah, found me in there, an' 'fore I knew it they was arrestin' me at gunpoint," he says. "Managed a trick Hatch taught me a long ways back an' got away, but they locked down m' ship." He gestures to himself. "Ain't got but th' clothes I'm wearin'." He takes a bite of his sandwich and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Got plenty o' stories 'bout stupid stuff folks done, but ain't nothin' like this a'fore."

Ashlyn grins a little as Lucinda excuses herself, and stamps down a chuckle. Sujiko's words wipe any lingering amusement from her features however. "Jeeze, ghuh-ghuh," she says, falling silent for a moment. "You got a plan?" she asks finally. "Or is that something we're gonna have ta come up with?"

Sujiko nods. "Don't die comes t' mind," he says. "Other'n that..." he pauses. "Yeah, 's pretty much all I got." He takes another bite of his sandwich. It's almost gone, but he's not looking up to finishing it. "Think some rest'll do me good," he reasons. "Long day, ya' know?"

Ashlyn smiles a little. "New beds fer the passenger dorms just arrived a few days ago, so they're pretty livable now," she says. "Long as ya don't mind the heat, but we should be gettin' that seen ta sooner rather'n later." She sets her elbows on the table and shrugs a little. "Torres' been helpin' me repair. We'll be in the air in no time." That might be a little more reasuring if there wasn't a hole in the wall admittedly.

Sujiko does indeed glance at the wall. "Shortly," he repeats, amused. "Aye. Well, I'll be 'round, an'..." he pauses, glancing down at his attire which, despite being groped by two messy women who were oh so very glad to see him, doesn't look irreversably unpresentable. "Might pick up a change o' clothes somewhere nearby."

Ashlyn nods. "You don't think anyone followed you? Because I don't mind goin' out ta get what ya need," she offers. She takes another bite of her sandwhich. "Seems like a shoppin' trip with the ulterior motive a goin' ta hit on boys is bein' organised," she ads with a grin. She looks over at Bishop. "Not that I'd be engagin' in the ultirior motives, mind you," she clarifies.

Sujiko smirks, pushing off from the counter. "What'f I had ulterior motives o' my own?" he asks teasingly. Reaching out to ruffle Ash's hair, though, he makes his way aft toward the stairs that'll take him to the passenger bunks. "Thanks Ash," he says, before disappearing around the corner.

"Ak!" Ashlyn grunts as she's ruffled, reaching up to brush her hair out of her eyes. "Fine, be that way," she laughs as she ties it back with her bandana. "I'll see ya `round in any case!"

Kitchen Surgery - IC Time: March 23, 2518

2008-05-06T01:03:24Z

The afternoon sun beats down on the heaps of metal piled so high as to create valleys of the dirt tract below. A figure in a duster treads along the tract, his steps kicking up small clouds of dirt. Taking the curve to road, Cid slows down after he view of the 'Compass' is revealed past a mound of twisted metal parts. Scrutinizing it with knitted brow, he grunts to himself, then tightens his grip on the bags of food he carrying, and continues on to the ship. Nearing the firefly, Cid shouts to no one in particular, "Got lunch!"

Ashlyn is coated in grease and muck up to her elbows, lying on her back with a pen light between her teeth on the dirty floor of the galley of the decrepit firefly the crew has claimed as their own. Above her is the frame of what is most likely a gas stove, though it is in such a state of disrepair, it might be any large apliance to the untrained eye. Chunks and bits of machinery too rusted out to be of use lay about her, and her tool belt is nearly empty, it's contents on the floor beside her. Her braided hair is tied back at the nape of her neck and a red bandana pulls it away from her face. The skylight above has long since been removed in preperation for a more space-worthy replacement, as has a fairly significant hull plate, that, while not so good for space travel, does wonders for what would be an otherwise stuffy and swealtering ship. Ashlyn spits the light out of her mouth and scoots out from under the appliance at Cid's yell. "I'm up in the galley!" she yells back as she crawls to her feet and pokes her head out of the hole in the side of the ship to look out onto the scrap yard.

Delilah comes bounding in from elsewhere on the ship, her face the picture of pure joy. She's either been talking to herself or talking to Ash from across the way, because she's continuing a sentence as she gets nearer. "An' an' I can paint whatever I want on the walls, like strawberries all over. Oh, Ash, I can make it a strawberry kitchen. With stencils on the fridge an' we can get strawberry wallpaper or even more stencils ta do a strawberry conga line 'cross the room. Maybe some cherries, too. Oooh, I should make us cherry pie. Cherry strawberry pie." She stops for breath for a moment and peers at Ashlyn's work. "So, what's the diagnosis, Doc? Is my baby gonna make it?"

Cid catches sight of Ashlyn through the aperture way up yonder. "Be right there!" he shouts, then disappears through the open hatch to the hold.

"She's gonna make it," Ashlyn says. "So long as you can love her if she's Frankenstein's monster." She smirks a little at that. "I think I got a third of a useful stove there. Got a lot a work `fore I call it done. Gotta seal all the lines an' get workin' fail safes `case... Erm. Well, safe ta say, gas stoves not as... trustworthy as an electric one." She grins as she leans back from the hole in the side of the ship. She pulls a rag out of her pocket and wipes her hands as she listens to the ring of Cid's boots on the metal deck drawing closer.

Delilah nods to what Ashlyn says, but she's off in her own little world, staring at the stove. "Yeah. Those safe fails...awful useful. With the gas. An' the..." She trails off, hearing Torres' steps as well now. "Miya, is that you?" she calls, having missed his lunch call earlier during her babble. "Please tell me ya didn't get puppy meat. I don't think I can stand ta watch ya'll eat that."

Cid's plodding steps finally give way to the man himself as he pops through the doorway from the fore hall. He glances around briefly at what is supposed to be the Commons at some future. A bit of a disconnect, but the gunhand must trust in Ashlyn. Lifting the bags toward the two woman, he cracks a faint grin. "Course it's me. Who else would be wanderin' out here with bags of food?" Placing the bags on an overturned crate, he adds for Del's sake, "And no puppy's meat here. Fish an' chips. Leastways, they said it was fish-like. I think it's fishy anyhow."

"I'll take it if it's food-like," Ashlyn assures him with a grin. "There a resteraunt that close by?" she asks curiously. Having been burried in work for the past few days, it's little wonder she is unfamiliar with the surrounding aria, however. "Hey look!" She turns and hurries to the sink in the galley and turns the lever on one side. Water that's only slightly murky jets out into the basin. "I got the water workin'! ...Don't drink it," she adds sheepishly as she clears off a space on the island counter of her tools and machinery for the food to be deposited.

Delilah grins at Torres. "Well, I doubt they've found a way ta make puppy taste fish-like. I hope." A look of doubt crosses her face for a second, before she smiles once more. She peers at the water Ash runs and remarks, "What 'bout iffn' I boil it? Is it jus' dirty, or is it good ta use fer cleanin' an' the like?" A glance is given to the rest of the room before she adds, "Cuz I wanna clean everythin' afore I start plannin' my paintin'." Kicking a few random pieces of metal out of the way, she makes her way over to the bags Torres brought and peers in. "They give us stuff ta eat it with? Cuz I don't think we got plates an' forks, an' iffn' we do, I wouldn't let ya eat with 'em." She muses as she digs around in the bag, "I really gotta find somewheres ta WAVE my Pa soon."

"They're wrapped in paper, just take a bag," says Cid to Delilah, "Got fries too. Went to the bar down the ways, called 'scrapheap' or some such. I tried a piece. Tasted alright ta me." Looking at Ashlyn's progress with the galley sink, his eyes widen. "Now that's something. Alright, Cap'n.

Ashlyn looks up at Delilah with wide eyes. "That's right!" she says, digging into her pocket. "I told ya I'd pay fer some supplies fer the kitchen." She pulls out a ratty wallet from one pocket and thumbs through some paper bills in it before simply pulling out the contents. "Ain't enough fer everthin' I'm sure, but fer some posts an' plates I s'pose." She holds the money out to Delilah. She grins at Cid as she reaches out for one of the bags. "Sure does smell good," she says. "I ain't eaten in... `bout twelve hours now." She hooks a thumb toward the stove acusingly with a grin. "An' I s'pose the water's good fer cleanin', just not much else. Not yet. But the purifiers're workin' so the more we use it, the sooner it'll be good fer 'else.'"

Delilah takes the money with a grin, but somehow suppresses a new outpouring of planchatter. "Ain't it jus' best ta run it all the time, then? Till it's clean, I mean. I can go turn all the taps on an' run it till she's running without the muck, an' turn it off? Cuz the sooner we got useable water, sooner we can move in, ya know?" She grabs a bag and plops down on the floor, since her dirty jeans likely can't get worse. Rooting through the bag to come up with a fry, she pops it in her mouth and mumbles around it, "Motel ain't gettin' much more homey. Or less smelly. Or less noisy. I swear ta Heaven, the guy an' girl next ta me were hangin' pictures on the walls all night long, an' she musta been awful angry from the yellin' an' the like she was doin'. What in the world were they doin' hangin' stuff in a room that ain't theirs at 3 in the mornin', anyhow?" She innocently swallows her fry and roots some more, oblivious.

Pulling off the heavy duster, Cid tosses it over on the crate, then grabs a bag for his own. Finding a nice spot on the deck to sit down, he plops down then pulls out some of the 'fish' and takes a bite. As Delilah relates his story about the neighbors, his eyes dart to Ashlyn, a brow arching as he does. Time to see about the fries. Makes it easier to hide the grin.

Ashlyn pops a fry in her mouth and looks as if she's trying to figure out how to answer Delilah. "Some people're wierd." Well, that's truth at least. Maybe just not relevent. "Might as well turn `em all on. That way we'd know if there was a leak anywhere. But she's livable now, if ya don't mind bottled water, cold showers, an' no temperature control." Since Ash herself has been off the ship only as long as has been nesissary, the current state is probably plenty habitable by her standards. "New bedstuff should be here in a day'r two, even." It having indeed been twelve hours since last she'd bothered to eat, her attention shifts pretty readily to her bag of greasy food once she's done speaking.

Delilah nods at Ashlyn's comment about weird people. Truer words have never been spoken. "Turn 'em all on?" she asks, quickly setting her food aside while giving Torres a strange look as he grins at his fries. "I'll go do that now, then, while we eat. I'll be back in a second!" She flounces off and heads in the direction of the bunks, shuffling her feet on the dirty floor.

Finding Compass - IC Time: March 19, 2518

2008-05-06T00:05:05Z

You head through the exit labeled 'The Barrens' to The Barrens.
===[The Barrens]=====================================[Assam City - Boros]=====
What begins as discernable roads leading into the Barrens eventually fades
into dirt and gravel paths. Strewn with remnants of broken pavement and old,
ill-used bits of discarded debris, the roads are hedged about by mounds of
junk and salvage. The piles in most lots are the size of city blocks, and
several stories high in some cases, each comprised of slowly oxidising refuse
or cast-away bits of civilization.

The farther one travels into the depths of the junkyards, the less organized
the paths become. Eventually devolving into a winding and chaotic maze, it
creeps ever outward from the city proper in a perplexing growth of inorganic
matter.
==============================================================================

Ashlyn pushes back the brim of her dusty cowboy hat as she scans the scrap heaps with a bemused expression. A habd falls into one of the over burdened pockets of her tan shorts and draws out a folded bit of paper that might be a map through the laberenth of trash before her. She turns it over a few times, not seeming to be able to correlate which direction pertains to which side of the map and stuffs it back into her pocket with a sigh. "We'll just consider this an adventure," she says with a smirk. The tool belt that has been absent for so many months hangs once again about her waist, and a pair of heavy gloves are hanging out of one pocket.

The eyebrow peeks up over the rim of the glasses, the lenses of which are shaded and tinted to block out the sun. The man is only a pace or two behind Ashlyn, a scruff of beard on his cheeks and jaw. "An adventure." His tone quips softly shaking his head some as Bishop directs that quirked eyebrow directly towards Ashlyn with a gaze now. "Whenever we go on Adventures, someone usually ends up shot, injured, or.. well..." He trails off then and shakes his head again. "Right. An adventure." Hands slip into his many pocketed khaki pants after shrugging the casual shirt on his shoulders some to a better resting position.

Ashlyn gives an apraising look around the Barrens as she settles her hat back in place to ward off the spring sun. "Not all my plans go awry," she says with a smile. "Ever now an' then we escape unscathed, don't we?" Her eyes cast up to one of the towering mounds of scrap. "Though I would watch out fer trashalanches." She seems to pick a direction at random and begins moving further into the scrapyard.

Cid isn't far behind, the ever present duster keeping most of the sun off the gunhand, though he's donning a brown T-shirt over the more common blue turtleneck. He expels a breath after making a small mound of metallic junk. "We shoulda brought water then," he calls out to Ashlyn as he wipes his forehead.

Bishop grunts a bit towards Ashlyn. "Not all of them go awry to the same magnitude as others you mean." The words and tone aren't angry or bitter, if anything they're playfully teasing. He starts moving over trash piles as well glancing back towards Cid. "Water? Who needs water when we have a nearly limitless supply of hot metal, old oil, and maybe some booze?"

Delilah follows Miya, hatless and glassesless and just being assaulted by the sun in general. The sleeveless summer dress she's wearing isn't helping, either, and judging by the freckles on her shoulders, she's going to resemble a leopard by the end of the day. Squinting in Bishop's way when he speaks, she mumbles, "Can't cook with any a that. 'Cept booze. An' I don't think I can cook with yer kinda booze."

Ashlyn gives an apraising look around the Barrens as she settles her hat back in place to ward off the spring sun. "Not all my plans go awry," she says with a smile. "Ever now an' then we escape unscathed, don't we?" Her eyes cast up to one of the towering mounds of scrap. "Though I would watch out fer trashalanches." She seems to pick a direction at random and begins moving further into the scrapyard. "Once we find it, we'll be outta the sun at least," she calls back to Torres. She looks back at the heaps of trash. "Can't be that hard ta miss a whole space ship, even in all this." She looks back at Delilah, and holds out her hat to the other woman. After all, what are a few more freckles and a deeper tan to Ashlyn? "I doubt the old crew left any booze on the ship," she chuckles.

It's when Bishop actually says something that makes sense that Cid will usually remark on Ashlyn's couchpotato/lover. This is more the norm and gets pushed out with the next dry hot gust of wind. Cid turns and stares at Delilah, then takes off his duster, walks over to her and drapes the heavy coat over her shoulders, saying, "You're gonna roast out her, Del. Take that for now. I'm fine."

Bishop glances back at Delilah when everyone else does and pause. "Delilah, are you serious?" He asks it with a smirk. "I told you to make sure to bring an umbrella or something..." There's a soft sigh from the man's lips before he looks to Ashlyn. "If you get sunburned, and are expecting me to put aloe on you, then I'm expectin' ... well we'll discuss terms later. So, I'm just curious, did they describe the ship at all in the junkyard?"

Delilah graciously accepts Ashlyn's hat, and plops it on her head. Before she can make some remark about looking like Scarlet O'Hara, however, Miya puts his duster around her and all time seems to stop. His duster. James' duster. Her wide eyes blink for just a moment, and her mouth moves with no sound coming out. She looks sheepishly back at Bishop, but still doesn't say a word. There aren't any tears, though, which is a bonus. For now, she resigns herself to staring at her shoes, and periodically shooting glances at metal piles, as though the ship could jump out and bite her on her ass.

Ashlyn smirks at Bishop. "I intend ta find this ship long b'fore I burn," she informs him as her ratty hat of unidentifyable origin relocates. "But we can adress the nature a the aplication a lubricants ta my personal self when we get ta that bridge," she agrees. She draws out the map again, something scrawled in a spidery hand on a scrap. A few things that might be depictions of landmarks are the best clue as to where they are or might be, and the large star most likely indicates the location of the ship. "One ship, firefly class, whole... or equivelent thereof." She turns to peer around the corner of the junk heap as they pass it. If she's noticed or understands Delilah's prediciment, she doesn't comment on it.

Cid is too tired and irritable to notice Delilah's mood ripple (yeah, she mood ripples, for real). Walking alongside the rest, he spends most of his time trying to stay standing amid all the metal precariously stacked one atop the other. "Ash?" he says finally. "This is Boros. Ships are piled here liked blocks in a kid's toy chest. I just hope you know where you're goin'.." then mutters under his breath, "Cuz I sure as humpin' hell don't."

Bishop pulls up for a moment from walking and watches Ash, pointing at her as he speaks towards the others. "She has a sixth sense for ships and machinery. They speak to her. What she's doing now, is listening. You see the way her head is tilted to the side and her ass is wiggling a little bit? That means she's listening for the ship."

Delilah arches an eyebrow as she stares at the nearest pile of scrap, before glancing quickly at Ashlyn's butt for an inspection. "/Did/ they tell ya where ta head, Ash?" she asks, shifting uncomfortably under the duster. "I mean, just a general direction?" It's likely that the duster situation has her too distracted to really take note of Bishop making vague sexual remarks, otherwise she'd probably be frowning in a disapproving way.

Ashlyn is not wiggling! But at Bishop's words she does once for effect before picking a direction that once again looks as if the choice was entirely random. "The ship says she's this way!" she yells excitedly, leaping over a bit of machinery jutting out of the trash heap. Grace, thy name is... not Ashlyn. Her boot hooks on something half burried in the dirt. I believe the appropriate expression for what follows is 'ass-over-teakettle.' Ashlyn actually manages to roll over once before coming to a stop in the dirt lying on her back. She squints up at the mass of wreckage she finds herself facing (upsidedown) as she digs into her pocket without getting up. "Direction is a relative term," she tells Delilah as she draws out the map again. Rolling to her feet, coated in dust she points to the large chunk of metal with what looks like a sun-bleached painted happy face, probably an old delivery truck of some kind. "You think that's s'post ta be this?" her other hand taps the characturature of a happy face on the map.

Cid looks at Bishop as if to say, 'okay, if you weren't her fiance that would be over the line'. Still, the gunhand glimpses to see if Ashlyn's ass does, in fact, wiggle ... Yes! And, then, ow! He snorts and stops, eyes scanning the mounds of metal, likely thinking what a nightmare this would be in a gunfight.

Bishop pauses as well and then winces rather adamantly when Ashlyn tumbles over. "You ok?" He asks, his voice concerned and trying to emphasize that rather than the slightly amused tilt it has. He moves along, kicking up some dust as he does to get to Ash's side to help her up.

"Ash!" Delilah yells, silent moping be damned. She flailruns over to her, abandoning the sun hat and the duster in the process. "Are ya okay? Did ya break anythin', bruise anythin'?" She looks frantically around for someone, anyone with medical expertise, to no avail. By the time she turns back, Ashlyn is pointing to a happy face, which clearly confuses Dela. "Yer alright, then?"

Ashlyn brushes off some of the dust as Bishop helps her up, clearly unharmed. "I'm fine," she says, holding out the scribbled map at arms' length, turning slightly to line up the happy faces. "Well, if that is what this is... That means the ship is..." She looks off to the right. "Left around that block, streight, then right again, an' it's right there." She beams widely as she says it.

Okay, now it's Delilah's turn for Cid's stare before he turns to go retrieve the hat and duster both. Picking the two articles off the ground, he walks back to Delilah. "Least wear the hat, Del. You got no qualities for absorbin' large amounts of UV. Duster'd be good too, but I know how heavy it is."

Delilah sighs and holds out her hand. "Ain't the hat I mind so much," she mumbles. Plopping it on, she turns back around to Ash. "Please, let's jus' hurry afore Miya makes me wear his pants, too," she pleads. "Honestly, it ain't that big a deal. I mean, I know I lost my tan an' freckles now, but I used ta spend lots a time in the sun on Lilac. I'm a pale redhead, but sun won't kill me.Yeesh."

"The tan ain't the problem Lilah, it's the burn, and the 'ow my back' we be hearin'." Bishop says with a chuckle before looking to Ashlyn and her map, nodding his head. "Then lead the way oh fearless wanderer of the Trash."

Ashlyn is already gone, skidding along the dirt paths between the junk heaps with a grin, the heavy treds of her boots faving her from further meetings with the dusty ground more than once. "I been hurryin' Del!" she calls back. "Ain't my fault the directions were just good enough ta get lost on!" She grins as she says it, stopping short as she rounds the last corner. "...Woah."

Cid shrugs at Del. "Suit yourself," he says to her, then puts the duster back on. He resumes walking, following behind Ashlyn a ways, almost beside Bishop now. Brows arch at Ashlyn's exclamation. "We find it finally?" Cid says before he rounds the corner.

"Ow my back?" Delilah asks, very confused. "But I'm wearin' a dress on my back. My back ain't exposed, Bish." She follows Ash as she goes and stops when she does. "Whoa? What's whoa, do ya see it?" She peers along with the Captain, searching for the source of the whoa.

Bishop is only a few paces behind when he hears the whoa. "That better be a 'I found the new old ship' whoa... because if it's 'I found another dead body' whoa... I'm going to be uspet."

The firefly (or equivelent thereof as seemed to be part of the deal) sits in a large cleared space amidst the junk heaps. Gouges in the dirt suggest that it's location in the relative scheme of things is quite a recent development. One thing is certainly readily obvious: this is no Theory. Pitted, gashed, and in more than one place seemingly scorched, this retired bird has certainly seen the rough end of life before being settled here to die quietly in obscuity amidst the trash and broken hulls.
If the ship's state of repair might be a deterent for most, it certainly isn't to Ashlyn, who's gasing at the ship in mute, almost worshipful, awe. "She's beautiful," she states to anyone catching up to her.

When Cid finally rounds that corner, and his eyes fall on the derelict firefly, he actually looks around it just to make sure this is the one, Yup, everything else is pieces. Must be it. He's about to speak to Ashlyn when he catches that look in her eyes. His lips press together, and he turns to Bishop and Del, murmuring, "A lotta work, huh?" If it ain't a gun, Cid got not clue.

"Huh." That's all Delilah really says. What does she know about ships? Never in a million years could she do any of the obviously numerous things it would take to get this thing flying again, but she trusts Ashlyn's judgment completely. "If she says she can do it, I believe her," she offers to Miya, looking back at Ashlyn. "Ya can do it, right? I mean...are ya gonna be doin' it by yerself, or jus' hirin' some guys ta help?"

"I seen worst." Bishop says as he moves to stand next to Ashlyn and places a hand on her shoulder, arm around her. "The Grace was 'bout that torn up. We get her patched, fix that strut up, some new paint... yeah."

"Won't take no time at all," Ashlyn agrees, leaning into Bishop. "Got all the parts we need. Free ta scavenge whatever we need ta get her flyin again. An' Major an' Phillipe'll help if we need it..." She trails off as she looks over at Torres' and Delilah's incredulous looks. "Y'all like it, right?" she asks a touch nervously.

Cid's looking a mound of crushed MULES when Ashlyn poses her question to them. Taken unawares he blinks back at Ash, scratches the back of his head, then glances at Del and Bishop. Finally, he just nods and tosses a smile, "Ah, yeah, it's, it looks like a winner-" eyes fall to Bishop "-right?"

"Well, you like it," Delilah offers with typical Dela logic and excitement. "I mean, Ash, ya gotta know mosta us don't know a darn thing 'bout ships. Yer the expert here. I gotta admit, it's hard ta look at it now an' see what it's gonna be. But yer good at that, an' we trust yer judgment, so I ain't worried 'bout nothin'!" She beams and starts to step forward. "Now, what I'm really worried 'bout is the kitchen. Can we go inside it? I'm dyin' ta see iffn' it's bigger or got more stuff. Oooh, d'ya think we can scrounge fer kitchen stuff here?" She begins to look at the junk surrounding them with new interest. Scavenging has become an acceptable activity suddenly, when there's potential cookery items to be found.

Bishop looks first at Ashlyn and nods, whispering something as he motions before looking back at the others. In front of them, a rusted up pitted up ship. "Honestly? We won't know for sure until we get onboard and check over the stabalizers, but it very well could be good as long as it holds up. It's not a cheap ship, it's a fixer-upper."

Cid claps his hands, then rubs them, saying, "Hey, well. I'm gonna be useful round here, and see 'bout findin' some water or some such. Shouldn't be too long." He turns and heads back the way they came. Mostly.

Ashlyn will take that response! Yay new ship, and all that jazz. The smile returns to the small captain as she leans against Bishop and looks over the derelict firefly again. "Then lets go inside," she says, giving Bishop a squeeze and a bright smile before letting him go slightly to take a step toward the ship. "Check the stabalisers an' the kitchen, but..." She pauses. "I think I'd rather buy all new kitchenware then scavenge it, Del, but if you trust me in the engine, I'll trust you in the kitchen an' won't argue none."

Delilah is wearing a sleeveless summer dress, having disregarded warnings about the sun. There's a sunhat on her head, however, and she's moving toward the same ship everyone else seems to be going to/staring at, a broken down, dirty Firefly. "You...are ya serious? I mean, all new stuff? We have the credits fer that? Ash!" Delilah squeals and begins jumping up and down. "I get ta buy all new stuff fer the kitchen an' I can get whatever I want even a stove that's gas an' not 'lectric an' a fridge that has the fancy water thing outside an' a coffee pot what can be set ta make coffee on it's on at a certain time an' maybe even some new pans an' a crockpot an' OH MY GOD I gotta tell my Pa, he'll be so jealous an' he can come visit an' help me choose things an' I swear to all that's holy Ashlyn soon-ta-be Bishop, iffn' yer kiddin' I might jus' fall down dead right now!" She pauses for a moment to breathe, peering at Ashlyn suspiciously, expecting a prank. "Really really?"

Bishop moves behind Ashlyn and glances towards Delilah smirking, "All new doesn't mean all.. great and grand. I think what Ash is saying we might be able to get 'like new' without rummaging through the junkyard for the stuff we eat off of."

Ashlyn links hands with Bishop as she makes her way toward the firefly. "Fer the pots an' pans an' everthin' else gonna come inta direct contact with food, new," she says with a grin. "An' with the steal I got off this boat, as nice as ya want. We got the credits ta cover that. As fer the appliances... Well, ain't like new, I'll make it so. That work fer ya a'ight?" Weather it is or not, she seems set on vanishing inside their new home, and with all due apologies to Grey, is simply too caught up in the excitement to have seen him. Surely, though, she'll catch him next time.

Really, this new/like new distinction is not getting through, as Delilah continues to beam and make kitchen plans under her breath. "I'll hafta get all kindsa new metals fer the pans iffn' we get a gas stove, an' we'll hafta cook with a lot more oil, too. Oooh, an' iffn' we get a better fridge, I can arrange all the shelves better. I wonder iffn' there'll be room in the pantry ta set up a bakin' area, fer when there's rolls risin' an' stuff - Capn' Grey?" She cuts herself off, having caught sight of the nearby man. "Capn' Grey, is that you?"

Grey blinks and straightens with a look on his face of utter disbelief. Shading his eyes, he finally catches sight of Delilah and company, and gives a little sheepish wave. "Hey there, Delilah," he says, a smile coming to his face despite himself. "Imagine the probabilities of meetin' you out here. Been awhile. Feeling well, I hope?"

"Ain't seen any mass murders lately, nope!" Delilah replies, chipper as ever. "How 'bout you? Whatcha doin' out here, rummagin' through trash? Ain't exactly yer style, ya know." She grins and motions him over. "Least you took the warnin's 'bout the sun seriously. We gotta new ship!" She shifts topics with Delilah-like ease. "An' I can't tell, but Ash says she's pretty, an' an' an' I get ta get new kitchen everythin'!" Clearly, the kitchen is far more exciting than the ship. "Wanna see?"

Grey chuckles a bit, shaking his head at her enthusiasm. "Flightsuits were not meant for heavy sun," he says ruefully, gesturing to himself. "They're deceptively warm. Made for high-altitude high-velocity low-oxygen cockpit operation and all that." He shrugs and kicks at the pile. "Remember the Ephemeral? She's in storage right now, an' I'm lookin' into at least fixing her up a bit. Just in case." He picks through a couple more parts before picking out one which he examines with great care. A glimmer of hope - and then it is discarded with a noise of disgust. "A new ship, huh? That's good news. I'll hafta come look after I've got what I'm lookin' for. It could take me a long time."

"High altitu...yeah. Huh. Well, that's not so good." Delilah grins sheepishly. "Nah, I don't really remember the ship much, ta be honest. Jus' what happened there. Got 'nough nightmare 'bout that as it is." She looks over where Ash is entering the ship, and makes her way towards Grey instead. "Whatcha lookin' fer? I can stay an' talk with ya iffn' ya like, maybe help a bit. Lord knows I ain't gonna understand a thing'a what they're sayin' in there, an' I don't rightly care unless it's 'bout my kitchen. I know Ash'll take care'a everything."

Grey crouches down and starts rummaging again. "Well, I'm looking for a bunch of parts, really. The Ephemeral got pretty dinged up during the fight. Invictus didn't have no guns or nothin', but just the collision and stuff gave her a pretty good shake. Parts came loose, hosing and electrical and other parts." He holds up a large piece of metallic material over his head and inspects it in the sunlight. "See, like this part? It goes underneath the outer hull, gives extra heat shielding, and also works as a solar deflector." He tosses it back of his shoulder. "Useless for a Scorpio."

Delilah starts to inspect the part Grey holds up, but it gets thrown away before she really gets a good look. "Well, ya told me what not ta look fer," she laughs, "But ya ain't told me what /to/ look fer. I think junkyards should come with some sorta index manual thing. Like an inventory. Make things an awful lot easier, ya know?" She kicks at a few piles nearby, hoping something useful will just kind of roll out and announce itself. "Capn' Grey, can I ask ya somethin' awfully personal?" she ventures after a second.

Grey tilts his head. "Yeah, shoot," he says, a little distracted, He all but dives into the heap up to the shoulders to pull at a piece he catches only the slightest glimpse of, and pulls out what looks like a large black container, some kind of fuel/water separator. "Well, I need anything that pertains to the main engine parts, exhaust manifolds, atmo intake/filtration system, and so forth - and it has to fit the Scorpio series..." He gets distracted and his voice trails away as he examines his piece of garbage.

"I don't suppose you could give me physical descriptions a'all that 'steada names an' what it's used fer, couldya?" Delilah asks ruefully, leaning against a nearby large pile of dirty scrap. "Cuz without it, I'm gonna be of no use ta ya." She pauses for a moment, watching him work, before finally asking him quickly, "Capn' Grey, are ya lookin' ta settle down an' get married with anybody?"

Grey pauses. "Settle down an' get married?" he echoes. A long moment of silence passes, and he can't help but laugh. "I'm sorry - I ain't laughin' at you, but I just can't imagine..." He waves the notion away. "Settle down where? And do what? I've been a roamer all my life. My days with the military, during the War; then out in the Black, not making my home in any one of the worlds but in the spaces between them. I couldn't imagine stopping for a moment, unless it was at the Temple." He goes back to rummaging, apparently satisfied with his answer. "I ain't lookin' for anything specific, mind you - just anything that would fit the Scorpio. Replacements, modifications, something I could rebuild parts with, spares for replacement..."

"Oh," Delilah manages, obviously disappointed. "I thought...well. It's jus' that I know someone an' I been worryin' 'bout her fer a while now, not havin' anybody in her life, an' I thought maybe you an' her...well. Don't much matter iffn' ya ain't even thinkin' 'bout that, then." She swallows nervously and begins looking for something, anything, to meet what he's looking for, which he never described in a way that means anything to her. "How 'bout this?" she asks, reaching out and grabbing the nearest thing within reach that she can manage to pick up on her own. "This anythin'?"

"Eh?" Grey asks, brow raising. "Who's that?" He stands back up and looks over the part Delilah holds. "Yes - that's part of the fuel pump relay, but that one don't fit the Scorpio. The parts I'd be looking for'd be a little bigger than that." He decides to stop for a bit and wipe his brow. "You're trying to play matchmaker when I ain't even been around for nigh on a year? Hell, I don't think I've seen anyone I know since the... since I saw you last."

Delilah grins. "I jus' like makin' people happy," she explains quickly. "An' how'm I 'posed ta know ya ain't been 'round? We barely see anybody these days, really. Matty's gone off an' we jus' try ta keep a low radar these days, since there's all kindsa people what don't look too kindly on us. Get a job, run that job, get another, that's us. Only fer me, I guess it's get some meat, cook that meat, get some more meat. I ain't really the job type, ya know. Been looking fer a while now fer another way ta be helpful on the ship, but I ain't good with flyin' an' I ain't good with guns or engines, so my options are sorta limited." She scuffs her shoe in the dirt when he says it's not the right part. "We can go an' get a drink a water iffn' ya want," she offers, seeing him wiping sweat. "I think Miya went ta get some, but who knows when he'll be back. An'IwasgonnasetyouupwithLu." This last is run altogether, trying to be honest while garbling the message.

Grey narrows his eyes slightly at that last part, but just smirks and says nothing. "And don't let nobody make you feel 'useless' because you don't do other things. You know what a commodity having a good cook aboard the ship is? Hell, I mean, finding someone good with first aid is a real treat, but they only get put into use if people get banged up. A cook?" He smiles, looking right into Delilah's eyes. "Folks gotta eat three square meals a day, at least. You get a good cook aboard, you got a morale boost right there. If the ship's good enough, she'll even put good food into you. They might fuel the ship so the pilots can keep it running, but you fuel the crew."

Delilah blushes and holds Grey's gaze for a second before looking away back to her shoes. "Awful nice a ya ta say that, Capn' Grey. But ain't nobody makin' me feel useless on our crew. Leastwise, not anymore. It's me what feels that on my own. We been in too many situations where people I loved got hurt an' there weren't a thing I could do 'bout it, afore or after. Trouble comes, everybody jus' tells me, 'lilah, get inside an' don't leave the ship an' don't make a sound an' don't breathe a certain way. I'm not a help ta anyone till they need chicken soup ta help them heal. It gets ta ya after a while, ya know? I might fuel the crew, but I can't do that iffn' they're dead or gone, an' I can't do nothin' right now 'bout that." She sighs and peers over at yet another pile in an attempt to avoid his eyes, but she sees something else and rushes over to it, yanking on it excitedly. It's a duplicate of what she had before, only bigger. "This it?"

"Can't do that iffen they're dead or gone," Grey echoes, his voice taking on a right sad tone and his eyes getting all faraway. "No, I don't suppose ain't a one of us can do nothin' for them's what's gone." There's a heavy and resigned tone to his voice, and he takes a step back slowly. "Yeah," he mutters, looking at the part she's holding, not seeming too enthused about it. "Yeah, that's the part."

"Oh, Capn' Grey, I'm sorry," Delilah says softly, abandoning the part to rush back to him upon noticing the change in him. "I didn't mean ta say anythin' ta upset ya. Did somethin' happen I don't know 'bout, did ya lose somebody close ta ya er somethin'? I know you an' I ain't had too many heart ta hearts, but I'm an awful good listener. Course, I'm usually listenin' over some cookies or somethin' else I made the talker, but I'm willin' ta pretend we're sittin' down ta tea iffn' you are." Her face is earnest and her tone is pleading - Delilah hates upsetting anyone.

"No, no," Grey says, waving his words away again and shaking his head a bit. "Just... just thinking back to the loss of the Invictus. Friends. Crewmen." His words weigh heavy, and he looks away. "I can't get it off my head, is all. It's not your fault, you didn't do anything wrong."

Delilah looks at him sympathetically. "Well, I was there, so I remember some of it," she offers weakly. "But I was only there fer a little while afore then, so I wasn't near close ta them as you were." She reaches out for his arm. "I really mean it, iffn' ya wanna talk. I know ya got this reputation fer bein' this big strong guy, who don't need anyone er anythin'. But everybody's gotta talk sometime, an' this is as good a place as any. I know what ya mean 'bout not bein' able ta stop thinkin' 'bout it. I still..." She trails off for a moment, swallowing hard before continuing. "I still think 'bout someone I lost a lot. More than I should, really. Way more than I should. But it's there, an' he's there in my head an' in my dreams, an' there ain't much I can do 'bout it but wish he were here still."

Grey takes comfort in her touch, but only for a moment. Moving aside, he takes a seat on the trash-heap and lights up a cigarette with the flick of a Zippo. "Not to say that you ain't a good listener, but I'm not a good talker," he shrugs. "Just the way I am. Thanks for offering, though." He sighs a breath of smoke and leans back. "Fuck, it's hot out here. I'm sorry to hear 'bout your someone. It ain't easy."

Delilah eyes his cigarette with a disapproving look, but there's amusement there, as well. "No, it ain't easy," she echoes, moving to sit next to him - but at a comfortable distance. No wandering hands here. "Some days I don't know iffn' I'll ever get over it. But, ta be honest, I think it's more the regrets an' the what-coulda-beens that gets me more than the what-there-was. I ain't ever gonna get those chances back, or those choices, an' that's hard ta cope with." She sighs as well, and looks around. "Well, like I said, we could go get some cold water. I think I saw a bar on the way here, they're bound ta have somethin' nice an' cold."

"Sounds good," Grey affirms, getting back on his feet. He crushes out his cigarette only half-smoked and offers his arm to Delilah to 'escort' her to wherever their destination might be. "Can't live life in what-ifs - you start doing that, and you won't be able to sleep at nights, focus on things, you'll destroy your own mind. What was, was; what is, is. The tides come in and the tides ebb out - go with the flow and the motion."

Delilah gives him a sideways look of perplexity - it's possible that with her Southern Baptist upbringing, his Taoist ideals are rather alien to her. "Easy ta say, harder ta do," she replies as she takes him arm. She lets a beat go by before beaming at him and giggling a bit. "Well, whatdya say, Capn' Grey? Shall we head ta the bar, an' you can drink yer troubles away an' I'll drown mine in water? I'll even make you pay fer mine, even though it'll likely be free." She'll follow him out now, if he goes.

Grey can't help but laugh. "Hell knows that on a sun-struck planet like this, they'll charge murderously for water," he snorts. For someone who grew up in a Taoist temple, he sure is cynical at times. "But, hell, money's for spending, and if I can find enough parts here to supplement what I've already got, then I've got a lot of spare cash, so... Let's get to it!"

Moar Wedding Plans - IC Time: May 25, 2522 - 01:29:02

2008-05-05T16:54:11Z

Chaos Theory - Commons
==============================================================================
The crew commons is a space large enough to hold a wooden table which seats eight people on various chairs of different designs. Along one wall is a large array of cupboards and drawers, presumably for food storage. On the opposite side of the room is a small galley area with a refrigerator, a few more cupboards and drawers, probably for dishes and silverware and the like. An obviously well-used coffee pot sits on the center counter, having been placed in the most convenient place in the whole room. Beside the galley area is a small circular lounge area, old sofas lining the walls and a small, round coffee table in the middle, still providing plenty of room to walk around. On the back wall, facing toward the dining area, hangs a large portrait, which those well-versed in this particular obscure back-corner of science might recognize as a Lorenz attractor. A round skylight window is built into the ceiling above this area, offering a nice view of the sky or space.
==============================================================================

Ashlyn lays back against the cushions of one of the couches, her shoes on the floor beside her and one foot folded under her. Her eyes are closed as if she might be sleeping, but a can of cola on the coffee table still slowly drips condensation, so if she is sleeping, she hasn't been at it long.

Delilah comes bursting into the room, her arms full of what appear to be very thick magazines. "Ash?" she calls out as she hurries. "Ash, where are - oh, Ash! Ash, wake up, I gotta show ya somethin'!" She plops onto the couch, spilling the huge magazines on the floor everywhere.

Ashlyn cracks one eye open, looking very much as if she were not actually sleeping if the total lack of 'Ohmygod! Whatsgoingon?!' at the sudden and rather loud entrance is any hint. The other eye follows a moment after and she stretches, sending a serries of soft pops from her shoulders. "Heya, Del," she says sleepily, reacheg for her soda. "What's all that?" she wonders curiously as she scans the magazines.

"Weddin' stuff!" Delilah announces in a chipper tone. "I went out fer a walk earlier an' I found a old bookstore type place. They had a ton of old weddin' magazines an' the like, an' they said I could have 'em cuz they were out of date a bit." Delilah beams, as though this is the greatest possible find ever. "Want ta go through 'em with me so's we can start plannin' things right?"

Ashlyn takes a sip of the caffinated cola and shakes her head a little as if trying to clear it. "Oh, hey," she says as she picks up one of the fallen magazines with a yawn. "These're great." She yawns again, "Erm. Sorry. Jetlag." She leafs through the pages of the magazine with a smile. "Of all the things I've let slip my mind..." she muses with a wry smile. "I ain't even given it much thought at all. I was kinda hopin' ta, ya know, marry the boy soonish an' all." She chuckles lightly, a sound which turns into a slow yawn. "But I did manage ta think o'er a guest list `fore I fergot ta remember."

Delilah just watches Ashlyn with a serious expression - weddings are clearly Serious Bizness. "Alright, ya wanna do it soon. How soon's soon, ya think? I know we talked 'bout Newhall afore, on a beach there. How big's the guest list, ya think?" She glances over at the kitchen, and back down to the magazines. "If there's too many, we might have ta cook the food elsewheres..."

Ashlyn shakes her head a little as she sips her soda. "Not big," she says. "My folks... Not a whole lot a people I know who ain't crew... Grey... Spent some time on the Redemption, but I didn't really meet no one else but him. Lucinda. She's the only former crew member who still keeps in touch. Beckett if she want's ta come." She looks as if she's searching her memory for some other point. "That's it. An' I don't mean my whole family, neither. Just Mom, Da', my brothers an' their families. Oh!" she starts. "I'm an aunt yesterday." She grins as she continues flipping pages.

Delilah ticks off fingers as Ash talks, and ends up with five before scrunching her nose. "Wait, how many brothers do ya have?" she asks quickly. "Cuz you an' Bish, Matty, Miya, Deco, Trix, Chade, me - that's already 8. Plus Grey, Lu, Beckett, yer Ma an' Pa, that's 13. Plus, ya gotta let each a those people bring a guest. That's an extra 9 people there, an' that's without yer brothers an' families at all." She picks up a magazine and furrows her brow, searching for something until Ash mentions being an aunt, and then the magazine is thrown to the ground again so that Delilah can throw her arms around Ash with a squeal. "Congratulations!" she yells!

"Gack!" Ashlyn cries. "Jeeze ya act like it's mine!" she laughs as she struggles to keep her soda right. "Four brothers, two sisters in law, an' one niece an' two nephews. So that's eleven family members. An' they won't mind if we don't tell them ta bring guests, I mean, I don't want it ta get /that/ big!"

"Oh, Ash, ya gotta let people bring guests," Delilah moans. She eyes Ashlyn's soda to make sure it doesn't spill on her, before reaching down for the magazine again. "Have ta be able ta bring friends or sweeties. Otherwise, who will we all dance with, ya know?" She giggles and flips to a section on wedding dresses. "Can't ya jus' imagine Miya doin' the two-step with Matty? An' hey...whatcha plannin' on wearin'?"

"Sixteen's enough!" Ashlyn squeeks. "We get inta thirtytwo an' that's just plain too many!" she protests. She sets the soda asside on the condensation ring already sitting on the table. "I already ain't gonna know Bishop's folks..." She chuckles a little nervously at that. "Don't need a whole horde a strangers, ya know..." She clears her throat a little. "Yeah, there's this pink an' white dress I saw out on Paquin they got in my size. Has a cherry blossom branch embroidered up one side. I thought that looked rather... erm, dresslike."

Delilah says nothing at Ashlyn's description of the dress, but she does look relieved. It's likely that she wouldn't care if the dress was bright red, as long as Ash /is/ going to be wearing a dress of some sort. "Well, Ash, I sure do wish ya'd reconsider that," she pleads, turning away from the dress section to some flowers. "It's awful rude ta invite people an' not include a guest spot fer them. I ain't gonna force ya inta nothin', though, like I said. It's yer weddin' an' all." She pauses for a moment before asking nervously, "...what's Bishop goin' ta be wearin'?"

"Pants, I hope," Ashlyn says, looking as if this is actually a subject for worry for a moment before breaking into a smile. "Didn't ask, but I mean, he's /got/ some nice clothes, I just dunno if he's gonna get somethin' new." She cocks her head at the plea for guest spots. "How's it rude to invite someone ta somethin' in any respect?" she asks sounding entirely genuinly confused. "An' if yer worried o'er people's others, most a them're already married inta my family an' on the guest list!" She begins looking over the flowers as Delilah opens the pages to them. "I can ask Rick if he's got someone ta bring if ya want me to." No mention is made at all of Drew, the other single brother. "An' fine, fer Grey, Beckett, an' Lu, but nothin' else."

"Well, what about Miya, an' Matty an' Chade an' Deco?" Delilah asks worriedly, concerned that somewhere, some poor soul who has an interest in attending this wedding is going to be left out. "An' me - can I bring Talon?" She bites her lip hard and peers at the page of the magazine, which declares that 98% of men polled thought it was sexy for a woman to go commando on her wedding day. "Maybe I should take Bish out ta make sure he's got everythin' he'll be needin'," she suggests helpfully.

"Yeah, sure, you can bring Talon," Ashlyn says, though a note of panic looks like it's creeping into her features as her mind slowly begins to tack more and more people into the picture, and the nice quiet wedding becomes a veritable zoo. "It ain't as I'm tryin' ta be difficult, but I just don't... put much stock in cerimonies." She reaches back to scratch the back of her neck. "Yeah, I mean, if you think he needs help. What would he need though, `sides a suit?"

Delilah nods in appreciation of Ash's panic. "Jus' keep in mind, Ash, you might not put much stock in ceremonies an' the like, but most people do. A weddin' ceremony tends ta be more fer other people than it is fer you, otherwise ya'd jus' go get it done quietlike at a legal ceremony." She laughs, though it's a nervous laugh, as she suspects Ashlyn would likely do just that, left to her own designs. "Well, he really needs a tux, not a suit, iffn' we can find one at a decent price. An' he'll need ta have somethin' written up fer the vows an' whatnot, an' sometimes the groom gives the bride a weddin' present. I don't know iffn' he wants ta do that, but iffn' he does, I'll go with him an' help him pick somethin' out, dependin' on what he's thinkin'." She doesn't add that she'll make sure it's something appropriate to the occasion. "I can probably handle the food an' whatnot, unless ya got a specific idea in mind, which I'm assumin' ya don't. What 'bout flowers? An' when were ya thinkin' of doin' this? Gotta give everyone time ta make plans an' fer us ta book somewhere on Newhall fer it..."

Oh, lord, more stuff to keep track of. That thought is written all over Ashlyn's face. Delialh might have a right to be worried about the captain slipping off for a quiet legal cerimony. "Just go easy on him," she says summoning up a genuine laugh. "I mean, this is all overwhelming enough fer me an' I'm generally doin' forty diff'rent things at once." She peers over at the pictures of flowers again with the look of someone trying to decode an enemy war message. "Erm? Daisies?" she guesses.

Delilah nods at the choice of daisies. "Alright, didja want real ones, or fake ones? Real ones are more expensive, but you can dry them out an' save them all prettylike." Delilah chews on the inside of her cheek and turns the page. "When were ya thinkin'?" she asks again quietly.

Ashlyn breaths a sign of relief that the random flower she could put both name and image to turned out to be the correct answer. "I think I can get ahold of enough real daisies fer a bouquet," she says, sounding relieved. "An' if it's Newhall, might as well be summer, though that's sneakin' up on me awful fast." She looks up out of the skylight as she picks up her soda again. "Though I would quite like ta finally be married, ya'know?" she chuckles.

Delilah nods and stand up, setting the magazine in her hands down on the table. "Summer," she muses, continuing to bite the insides of her cheeks as she meanders towards her room. "Okay, summer might work. Lemme get ahold of my Pa, maybe he can come help with the cookin'..." she trails off, distracted in a sea of wedding plans attacking her brain. "Gotta have 'nough daisies fer everyone in the ceremony, though, like me an' Matty iffn' she's a bridesmaid an' oh, we gotta figure out bridesmaids dresses..." She nearly bumps into a wall before grinning at Ash and righting herself. "Lemme go talk ta my Pa, you think 'bout bridesmaids dresses." And she's gone.

Ashlyn, for her part, sits back quietly in the couch with her soda, panicing silently.

Redecoration - IC Time: May 22, 2522 - 13:34:00

2008-05-05T15:48:06Z

Chaos Theory - XO's Quarters =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
==============================================================================
Climbing down the ladder, you might be wondering how you managed to leave the ship, from the atmosphere here. Arcing across the ceiling and dusted by a coating of snow are what appear to be tree branches, stars twinkling in the night sky above them. Stout tree trunks line the walls as well, buried in drifts and mounds of snow and continuing the illusion of standing in a winter forest. To the side of the ladder, built into the wall, is a small washbasin.

Painted above the double bed is a darkly colored wolf standing in front of snow-laden pine trees, silent and lethal. At various points along the wall, encased on all sides by the branches, are other pictures of snow wolves - some baring their teeth, some leaping in mid-air, some playing with their cubs. The cortex unit appears to be nestled into the branches of one tree, with the keyboard hanging on the side.

The bed has been made with large, new pillows, and sheets of a light blue color. The comforter is the same blue color, though there are silver threads running through it to form snowflake shapes in a pattern. To the left of the bed is a decent-sized desk and chair, with a handmade bookshelf atop the desk, where neatly arranged Earth-That-Was science fiction novels have been shelved. On the bedside table are two photographs: One is of a young man in an Independent Faction Uniform and the other of the same man, younger standing arm in arm with a girl who resembles him quite a lot. A metal locker stands in a corner, painted with bright red letters:Matty's. Keep Out!
==============================================================================

[XXX.XX MHZ] Matty says, "Delilah... Will you come to my quarters, please? "

Matty stands in the middle of a wintry landscape. Or who room, as the case may be. Her eyes keep wandering over the surfaces of what used to be bland grey, undecorated walls, stopping her and there and then continues onward. Her expression is carefully neutral as she continues to look, trying hard not to give away any emotions she might be feeling at the transformation of her quarters.

Delilah comes hurrying into the room, nearly flinging herself down the ladder to jump to the bottom and rush to Matty's side. "What is it, what's wrong?" she gasps, nearly out of breath and obviously concerned.

Matty blinks at Delilah as the woman nearly tumbles down the ladder well. "Take it easy, Del. Nothin's wrong..." she says and takes a step forward, reaching out to steady the cook. "'s jus'.. Well.. I thought I'd gone in the wrong room.. Even climbed back up to check.." She waves a hand around and opens and closes her mouth a few times, though no words come out. "...Why?"

Delilah looks around, remembering suddenly the differences in the room, which she'd forgotten in her panic. "Oh," she says reassured, repeating in an amused voice, "Oh! Oh, well, Matty. You know. We said way back when that iffn' ya got yerself outta the booze that I'd redo yer room fer ya. We thought...I dunno, I guess I thought I'd jus' get it done right quick when you were off the boat a while back, an' then those guys shot ya, an..." she trails off. This is supposed to be a happy conversation, so why is she bringing up gunshot wounds? "Do ya..." Delilah leans forward and peers at Matty nervously. "Do ya like it?"

Matty stands quietly, still with her cane in one hand, and listens to Deliliah. Then she smiles and steps forward to wrap her arms around the cook, giving her a tight hug. "Thank you, Del," she says, her voice shaking a bit. "I do. I like it. It's like.... Like home."

Delilah hugs Matty back tightly, squeezing for all she's worth. "Ya don't have ta thank me, Matty. I did it fer ya, ta honor all the hard work ya did gettin' sober, an' everythin' ya went through. You should be proud of yerself, ya know?" She lets go reluctantly and steps back. Real hugs from Matty are few and far between. "Do ya like the wolf?" she asks, pointing to the one painted above the bed. "Ash did it."

Matty swallows a lump in her throat and gives a look around the room again, not meeting Delilah's eyes. She nods toward the wolf and grins crookedly, taking a step toward the bed, then sits on to lean back to touch the painting. "I love it. You guys didn't have to do all this," she says and leans forward again, looking around at the rest of the room, her eyes stopping at the photo of herself and her brother. "Oh! I left Mikhail in the passenger dorm..." She pauses, then chuckles and shakes her head. "I oughta have known ya'd gotten into my room when ya brougth that picture ta me."

Delilah grins and manages to look guilty. "Well, ya did say it was okay fer me ta do it way back when, an' I figured there ain't much in here we didn't see that day, so I was hopin' ya wouldn't mind. I thought havin' yer picture might be more important, even iffn' ya did mind." She watches Matty touch the wolf and beams. "Now we jus' gotta work on Ash's weddin'!" she declares with gusto.

"The door was locked..." Matty says, but doesn't press the issue, then cringes at Delilah's cheerful exclamation about weddings. "Oh no.. No, no.. I ain't helpin' plannin' no weddin', Del. Sorry..." She pauses and looks around again, a slight twitch tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I wanted to jus' go to some peace justice when I was s'posed to marry Suji, but my parents wanted the whole traditional weddin' stuff.." She shakes her head again, and looks back at the picture of her and Mikhail. "Reckon yer the one to plan somethin' like that, Del. Not me."

Delilah sighs, on her own again with the plans. "Well, gosh, Matty. Ash don't seem like she cares, an' you won't help. Things keep goin' this way, an' I'll have ta sit down with Bish an' plan things. Which probably means that he'll get married without wearin' pants." She sighs and begins to edge towards the ladder. "Well, I figure I oughta leave ya alone, let ya look around at everythin' we changed. Been a while since ya been back ta the ship, thought ya might like some time alone. I'm gonna try an' find Bish, see if someone on this boat wants ta get married!" She sticks her tongue out at Matty as she says this, to lighten the words.

Matty looks over at Delilah, smiling even though her head is going from side to side. "It's okay, Del. 'm jus' a bit overwhelmed, y'know.. When I asked ya to help decorate I jus' imagined a bit o' paint on the walls 'n a rug or two. Not this..." she says and waves her hand at the landscape that used to be a room. "It's wonderful, I really do love it. 'm gonna hafta turn down the heat, tho'. Make it more believable." She gives Delilah a wink, then lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "Does a weddin' really have to be planned all that much? If Ash or Bish don't much care, what wrong with jus' goin' to sign some papers 'n then having a party afterwards?"

Delilah laughs at the comment about the heat. "You're gonna make me feel like I hatfa bring ya hot chocolate in July," she teases. "An' I ain't forcin' 'em ta have anythin' fancy, Matty. I jus' offered ta help, an' Ash said she does want ta do some things. I know she thinks I want ta plan them some big huge thing. An' sometimes I play along jus' ta tease her. But really, I know they don't want somethin' like that, an' I ain't gonna make 'em. But she's gotta have a dress, an' bridesmaids hafta have dresses, an' flowers. An' people comin' hafta eat somethin'...see, there's plannin' involved even if ya do it the easy way." She grins at Matty and begins to climb the rungs of the ladder. "Ya can help me with the bachelorette party, then. Hafta have one-a those!"

"Hey. Hot chocolate in July is perfectly normal out on Albans, ya know," Matty says and gives a wink toward Delilah, but stops to listen to the cook go on about planning and bridesmaids and dresses. "Hold up there, Del. I ain't wearing no dress.. 'n.. Bachelorette party?"

"Well, iffn' she asked ya ta be a bridesmaid, ya are!" Delilah chirps cheerfully. "An' yep, she said she wanted me ta take care of the bachlorette party, too. 'Posed ta get her friends tagether an' do all kinds a silly stuff, alcohol usually required, but we can make it optional. It'll be great, Matty, you'll like it. We'll run 'round Seph dressed like men pullin' off pranks an' gigglin' the whole time. She'll be over the moon."

A brief look of disappointment crosses Matty's face and she shakes her head a bit. "Nah. She ain't asked me. Musta known I ain't much fer the whole weddin' party thing 'n wearing silly bridesmaid dresses..." she says and continues looking around the room, then back at Delilah as she mentions dressing up like men. "'n how's dressin' like men any different from normal?"

"Aww, Matty, don't feel bad," Delilah says quickly. "Honestly, she probably jus' ain't asked ya cuz she ain't done anythin' 'bout the weddin'." Looking up at the door hatch, and down at the floor, Delilah decided that she's gotta either go up or down, so she starts climbing again. Before she disappears, though, she calls, "Ain't talkin' 'bout dressin' like a tough girl in man's clothes, Matty. I mean like, gettin' dressed up in fancy man's suits an' wearin' top hats an' the like." Her giggles can be heard even after she goes out the hatch.

"I did that too!" Matty yells after Delilah, then gets to her feet to move over to the thermostat to turn it down to a more winter-like temperature.

Visiting Matty - IC Time: Apr 13, 2522

2008-02-19T18:50:13Z

Medical Wellness Clinic - Persephone =>Persephone<=
==============================================================================
The large main room of the clinic is cleaner then what you would think for the area of town it is in. Though from the opening of the door dirt does tend to sweep into the clinic collecting in the waiting area. The waiting area itself is no more then a old desk of matte black with a single chair behind it for the receptionist while on either side of it there is a row of chairs the same matte black as the desk itself. The chairs holding a small cushion on the seat though most are worn down from frequent use and age. Behind the reception desk there is a halfwall seperating the room into two sections. The back of the room holds two seperate little rooms. The first one is revealed to be an examination room complete with table and a large Halogen examination lamp along with cabinets with differnt markings to show what medical equipment is inside. The second one it can be guessed is a surgical room, This room looks to be the cleanest of the building with plastic covering every surface to keep anything from dirtying it after its last cleaning as well as two large halogen lamps. A metal door exists between the two rooms with a sign reading: Staff Only in both English and Chinese.
==============================================================================

Matty is in a bed and has been attached and hooked up to several gauges and tubes some which go beepbeepbeep, others which feed her fluids and some that a layperson like herself has no idea of their purpose. Not that she would be thinking of their purpose as she's still unconscious and unaware of the world around her.

"Finally something surgical, and it happens on my day off." Ah, nothing like the sound of a doctor bemoaning the lack of interesting trauma. Dr. Julian Qin, at least, has the sense of tact and kindness to do this while his patient is happily unconscious and can't hear him, however. Neat and trim in a standard white coat, he's got a patient chart in his hands, and is looking it over with a few touches of a light pen. "It looks like she's been on that synthmorph drip for a while now. I'm going to dial it back a couple notches and see if she's ready to come around yet." Who is he talking to? Quite possibly just whatever recording doctors talk to.

Knox is whistling while he works. Loudly, annoyingly and off-key. Which works ok, I guess, when you're outside and it's loud. But the tech's now come inside to wash the interior side of the windows. Kez is oblivious, until Julian speaks. Then he's just confused, "The what of the whowatsit?"

Delilah tiptoes in, her face pale and concerned. There's a picture frame in her hands, with the glass facing her body. She looks a bit startled at finding people inside the room, but swallows hard and knocks on the doorframe. "H-hello?" she murmurs softly, glancing from one man to the next. "Can I come in?"

Whatever it is Julian has dialed down must have had a tremendous effect on Matty's unconsciousness. Not long after the deed is done, the woman's eyelids start to flutter a bit and her mouth opens and closes, though no sounds escapes her lips.

Silently slipping in, Chade makes his way to a corner, staying out of the way of the official visitors and doctor folk, observing the goings-on and attempting to discern Matty's condition.

Julian watches the fluttering with a nod of great satisfaction. "Synthmorph," he explains to Knox. "1-proopiate-L-glucoronide if we want to get fancy, but it's great stuff. The body's extremely sensitive to it, so when you're out you're out, but when I lower the dose to something less than outright sedated, up our sleeping beauty comes in a matter of minutes-- and of course you can, Miss," he nods to Delilah, startled slightly out of lecture-mode but recovering smoothly enough. "Are you here to visit our star patient?"

Knox looks at Julian rather blankly, and then just smiles at the doctor with a thumbs up. "Whatever you say!" He gets it, sorta. Get gets that it puts you out and all. "Popular, today, here is," he notes, eyeing all the people with raised brows.

Delilah completely misses Chade entering and Knox's comment, as she was staring at Matty while Julian spoke. "If that's what yer callin' Matty, then yes, I'm here to see her." She takes a few steps forward, keeping the picture frame snug against her body. "Is she...I mean..." Whatever she was going to ask is lost when Matty begins to flutter her eyes. "She's awake! She's awake? Has she been awake before? Should be awake now?" If anyone has any doubt about Delilah's extreme level of concern, the flood of questions should make it quite clear.

Matty opens her eyes and just stares at the ceiling for a while, blinking now and then as if trying to find the answers there. Voices she doesn't recognise filters through and she frowns a bit, lips moving again. "Where..." comes out in barely a whisper and her eyes move to fix on Julian at which point an almost frightened expression creeps into the dark greys. Her muscles tense, as much as they can, what with being drugged to the eyeballs and all. But then she hears Delilah's voice and she moves her eyes again, using a great deal of force to do so it seems, and she locks on the woman. A faint smile crosses her lips before she closes her eyes again.

"Knox--" Seeing his (Or, well, -Lu's-, to be accurate.) nice, neat little clinic turn into something resembling a Jianyin cattle pen in short order, Julian falls back on delegation at the sound of Tani at the front. "Could you see what's up there? Let me know if it's medical..." Still hovering by Matty's bed, he gives her a crinkle-eyed smile, and the greeting of "Good to see you back with us, miss. You seem to have worried your friends."

Chade continues to look on quietly, not saying anything to anyone in particular. Dried blood can be seen on his jacket, having seeped through his left shoulder, though he doesn't seem quite phased about it. He does, however, take a few forlorn glances at the various medical supplies stocked about the room.

Knox shrugs. "Well, I image it's medical...they aren't here to see me. Maybe her," he gestures at Matty and Delilah and gives the doctor another thumbs up before going to play receptionist. "Eh - so what's going on here, hm? What's anyone - everyone - need?" Well, it's to the point.

"Back..?" Matty whispers, opening her eyes again to look at the ceiling for a moment, then over at Julian, her motor functions starting to become more and more responsive to her thoughts. She lifts a hand to look at the IV needle stuck in it, along with the monitor thing on her finger. "Oh. Yeah." That.
That indeed. "It may come as a surprise to you, miss," Julian intones solemnly. "But you were shot. Dr. Delray got the bullet out of you, however, and having taken care of all the fun stuff, she's left me in charge of seeing how you're doing today. My name is Dr. Qin." His diction is that of a Core worlder, educated and showing it without even having to fall back on stilted precision to do so.

Leaning against the counter in the clinic, Chade maintains his silence as the well educated fella talks to Matty about her condition. Unconciously, he puts his hand on his own wounded shoulder, cringing inaudibly.

Knox eyes Chade and wrinkles his nose. Ew. Bleedy. Well, Julian sent him to investigate..."Hey, uh, Julian? I'm gonna take a wild guess and say we've got a medical condition out here...because I'm pretty sure bleeding falls into that catagory." Wild guess, indeed. He's not going any closer either.
"Matty," says the injured woman in a hoarse voice, though her chart might say something else, depending on what Lucinda has put there. "Shot, yes.. Know." Better not be saying too much with that hoarse throat. She puts her hand back down now that she's done inspecting the stuff stuck to it and looks back at Julian. "Where's Lu?"

"Well, hopefully off having a six-week break on Bellerophon," Julian answers Matty with a flash of a grin as he chats while leaning in to take a quick peek at her repaired wound with fingers deft and eyes attentive. "The margins look good," he reports, "And your Oh-two sats make me a happy man to see... but I expect Lu will probably be back shortly. In the meantime, could you forgive me if I was terribly rude and left you for a little while? My colleague out there seems to have found someone bleeding."

Chade finally decides that he needs to sit down and finds a nearby chair where he takes a short moment to pull back his coat and examine his own wound. Still glancing occasionally in the direction of Matty's bed, he takes his right hand and uses it to tear the fabric of his shirt a bit to get a better look.

Lucinda emerges from the back room where she had gone to rest shortly after Matty's surgery. Crash is more like it. She's dragging a hand across her eyes to try and clear the sleep from them, all the while stumbling up the hallway. Before she's even half awake, she's groping blindly along the wall until her hands close over her lap coat. She pulls it off the hook and shrugs it on as her mouth splits with a massive yawn. "Knox...coffee..." She grogs.

"Not Lu," Matty says with a faint grin, in response to the six-week break comment. Whatever medical talk he's talking doesn't seem to sink in, but as he asks forgiveness to leave, she lifts a hand to wave at him weakly. If she noticed Delilah here before, she seems to have forgotten or decided that she was some phantom of her drugged imagination as she closes her eyes again to shut out the too bright lights.

Given the choice between looking after a bleeding patient and getting coffee...Well, that's hardly a choice at all. Knox fetches Lucinda some coffee, because having your eyes open is helpful as a doctor. At least he can fetch well. After some jaunting about, he hands Lucinda a mug. "You sure you should be up?" He's skeptical.

Julian is fortunately all over the bleeding patient detail, giving Matty a cheerful little bow that rustles his lab coat before he grabs a pair of latex gloves from a handily-positioned box, and heads out into the waiting area to investigate, eyes falling on Chade with a quick inspection. "So, I've heard from Knox that you've got a little bleeding problem going on," he opens with. "I'm Dr. Qin. Want me to make it stop?"

Looking a bit apprehensive, Chade shrugs, nodding at Matty, "Only if yer done with her," he says to Julian. "Gunshot wound to the left shoulder," he says, pulling his coat away to reveal it, adding, "I stopped the bleeding, but I think there's still some lead caught up in there."

Lucinda leans against the wall heavily, her eyes closed and her head lulling back. "Up. I can do up. Gimme a second. There another patient?" She asks Knox, hearing voices but not yet venturing out into the waiting room proper. Eyes still closed, she raises the mug to her lips and sips the scalding liquid. "How's the female gunshot wound victim?" She asks of Knox.

Delilah moves to Matty's side, having turned away when the older woman woke up to avoid her seeing the tears gathering in Delilah's eyes. Emotions under control for the moment, she gingerly advances to the medical bed, trying very, very hard not to stare at Matty's injuries. "Matty?" she asks quietly, looking at the XO with extremely worried and slightly watery eyes. "How do ya feel?" The picture frame is still against her stomach.

Matty blinks at the sound of Delilah's voice, then frowns and opens her eyes, once more looking at the ceiling before her eyes obey orders to move in the direction of the voice. "Del...? I thought.." she begins hoarsely, then lifts her arm, moving it slowly toward the other woman to try and poke at her. "You real?"

"How about 'coherrant' and 'conscious' as well as 'up'?" Knox asks of Lucinda. One has to wonder. "Oh, well, that one," a gesture at Chade, "Is bleeding, but Julian's all over it." There's a pause as he reconsiders that sentance. Eventually, he decides it's best to move on. "And that one," this time a gesture at Matty, "Is awake. And has a visitor. So...fine?" That's fine, right? Er.

"Well, let's get you back and up on the exam table, then," Julian directs, standing close enough to offer assistance if needed, but not moving to lay hands on Chade unless it is. "Do you happen to know around what calibre of gun you were shot with? And about how much blood would you say that you lost before you got the bleeding under control?"

Chade manages to stand up of his own volition and steps towards the table, still keeping an eye on Matty. "Felt like a nine," he said, looking up as if trying to recall something, "Might've been about 10 minutes or so, if I recall." He loooks down at this shoulder again, "Wasn't a through and through so I only had to worry about one hole... can still move it a bit, though."

Lucinda cracks one eye open to look at Knox, its bloodshot and painfully red. "You're actually giving me lip, Knox?" She yawns, her eyes closing again and thunking into the wall. "Good." She responds dryly, either to the news that things are under control or that Knox is busting her figurative 'balls'. She groans, lifting the coffee back to her lips. Mmm. Coffee good.

Delilah isn't really aware of anything going on behind her, as focused as she is on Matty right now. "Am I...real?" Looking really confused for a moment, she watches Matty weakly try to poke her. "What in the world are ya doin', Matty? Course I'm real! I came ta see ya cuz I was so worried..." She trails off, leaning forward. "Are ya okay? How do ya feel?"

"That's good to know... and now don't move it 'til I've got the fragments out," tacks on Julian with a crooked smile. "Wouldn't do to tear up your muscle fibres from the inside. Now," he bids, stepping into the exam room and motioning for the other man to take a seat on the exam bed, "Any numbeness in the fingers at all?" Cue not so much bustling as purposeful movement, assembling tools of the doctor's trade.

Chade attempts to remain still as his apprehension seems to grow a bit. He shakes his head, "Naw, I have feelin' in all my fingers... Jus' ruddin' hurts if I move it to an extreme and the wound starts to... pull."

"Ya were there 'n then ya weren't...." Matty tries to explain to Delilah and lets her arm fall, not having the strength to keep it raised anymore. "Thought drug were.. Seeing things." She closes her eyes for a moment, then suddenly opens them wide and stares at Delilah. "Where's Ash? Torres? Everyone?" she asks, in a panicked voice, apparently completely unaware that Chade is in the room as well. "Where are they, Del!"

Knox blinks. "...No, Mam. I wouldn't even know what this 'lip' thing you speak of is..." Not at all true, but he manages a good expression of innocence anyway. His eyes slide towards Matty. "My prediction of 'fine' may have been premature." Not that he's investigating.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that. Think I can help you get the shoulder exposed without taking scissors to the shirt?" Julian wonders, lifting an eyebrow and the scissors in question. "Out here, I've grown loathe to cost a man his clothing if I can help it."

He shrugs, "Already a hole in it," Chade says, "An' I already pulled it open a bit to get some pressure on it, so I don't bother me much, doc." He does let his arms back so his coat slips off quickly, "Whatever ya need to do."

Lucinda tries to hand back her coffee mug to Knox if he'll take it. "I'm on it." She grumbles, dragging her eyes open enough to see her way down the short expanse of hall and slap open the flimsy door to the room Matty's in. "Stop shouting. Everyone's fine. You're the one shot to hell. Now stop yelling before I drug you back to Dante's Limbo." She leans back into the hallway, the door starting to swing shut before she pushes it open again. "'n, hey Del."

Julian tests his Medicine against a 50 difficulty. The result is successful (31).

Delilah's eyes get even bigger than their typically huge size when Matty begins to panic, and she reaches out to grab Matty's hand with hers. "They're fine, Matty, they're fine! Back on the ship an'all, I promise!" She jumps about an inch in the air when Lu slaps open their door and yells in, and she lets a few moments of silence before mumbling in confusion and surprise, "Hey...Lu?" It sounds more like a question than the intended greeting.

Julian studies the shirt, and although he eventually does make use of the scissors to give himself a better fiels, he at least manages to do so along a seam, for repair later. "All right," says he, and then sets to work. First a liberal splash of betadine to cleanse the area, then a little scrubbing to make sure it's really tidy. "D'you have any allergies to local anaethetics that I should know about?" he asks.

It takes a few moments for Lucinda's words to sink in and by that time Matty is already struggling to sit up, gritting her teeth to stop from crying out in pain. She slumps back and looks wild-eyed in the direction of Lucinda's voice, then back to Delilah, breathing raggedly. "Yer sure?" she asks, her voice strained with pain her hand clenching around Delilah with as much strength as she can muster. Which isn't much. "Ya ain't lyin' are ya?"

"None that I know of," Chade replies to Julian. "Someone used ether on me once," he recalls, "Woke up two days later with a woman in the house and the toilet was stopped up... not a pretty sight."

"Oh, merciful Buddha, ether," Julian recounts with a shake of his head and a chuckle. "I recall some guay toh guay nown in my chemistry lab back in my pre-med days made a bunch of that and tried to sell it as a party drug. It didn't really catch on." The chuckle and the anecdote work as a neat cover for the little injections of local anasthetic he makes around the wound site, before he turns away to let it take effect and to hunt down a bottle of "Saline wash... where did it go..."

Knox takes the mug from Lucinda and looks at it for a moment. Then he looks over at the direction Lu went. Hm, perhaps one should be more awake before social interaction. "Isn't she just up, though?" Knox says, shuffling a little bit after Lucinda. "Er..so drugging is probably not, uh, needed? Er, you know, nevermind." He reconsiders giving his professional opinion.

Chuckling, Chade eases a bit at the suprisingly pleasant bedside manner of the doctor, "Well, I won't discuss the circumstances under which it was administered." He flinches slightly at the tiny needle pricks and watches the doctor as he searches about the room.

Lucinda pats down her lab coat pockets until she finds what she's looking for. The familiar rattle of a pill bottle. She fishes it out and pops the top, shaking a few into her open mouth. "I'm going to have to restrain her, aren't I?" She asks no one in particular, and perhaps only Knox can hear her.

"Gentlemen don't take ether and tell," Julian mock-agrees, almond-shaped blue eyes crinkled at the corners. But the elusive saline is rousted out, and he advances back on his patient with the bottle held high. "I'm just going to irrigate this before I go fishing around, just in case I can flush the bullet that way." Explanation given, and a catch pan held with his free hand, he does just that.

Trying not to look, Chade nods at the doctor, squigling somewhat uncomfortably as he prepares for the inevitable anonymous pressure. He pauses a moment with a distinct look on his face, "Out of curiosity," Chade asks hesitantly, "How much are yer services?"

If Knox hears Lucinda, his only reaction is to look nervous and shifty. Oh wait, he was doing that already. It's not exactly a surprising expression on him. The coffee mug is suddenly very interesting.

"Well, I leave that up to Dr. Delray to figure out, but I think she usually sets it around 100 credits" says Julian equably, and leaves it at that, irrigating the wound quite contentedly and peering with curiosity at the dark clots of blood that glob out of it to tint the water in the pan a spreading reddish hue. Alas, no bullet. "Hold this," he directs, offering up the catch pan and attendant mild gore. "And how's the local? I'm going to have to fish around in there with some forceps, and I know I sure as hell wouldn't want to feel that."

Chade grumbles, but figures it'll have to be done so he can reclaim the use of his arm. "No pain, just pressure," he says as he takes the pan to hold for the doctor.

"As it should be," Julian replies, with a little nod of satisfaction at drugs working as they're meant to do. And thus he begins, picking up the forceps from their own little bath of betadine and setting about digging after poking around in the wound with his fingers to get the lay of it. "Happily enough, it looks like it's just soft tissue damage."

Matty continues to try and squeeze Delilah's hand, though there's not much strength to it. Her eyes flicker back to the woman and she swallows something in her throat. "They okay?" she asks again, as if still not believing the cook. "There were shots.. Too many shots.. No one's hurt? You swear?"

Another cringe from Chade, this one not financially motivated. "Maybe it was 10mm," he says, as he gathers the courage to take a peek down at the size of the wound in his shoulder. "Not that 1mm would make all that much difference in the long run," he adds flippantly.

Julian tests his Surgery against a 40 difficulty. The result is successful (32).

Lucinda ambles back into the surgical suite, pausing to tug a pair of gloves from the dispenser box and wiggling her fingers into the lightly powdered latex. "Sorry, Delilah. Time to vacate. I can't risk Matty getting all excited like right now and pulling her stitches in her drugged haze. Time to get." She hitches her head towards the door. My how Lu starts to sound like a proper border-worlder when she's not quite awake.

"No, not likely," Julian agrees, words a bit vague this time as his attention is focused on the excavations currently underway in Chade's shoulder. Dig, dig, dig, twiiiiist. "Hah! -Got- you." the doctor pronounces with some satisfaction and the plink of deformed metal into the pan. There's a fresh little runnel of blood to follow, and thus his triumph is short-lived as he swoops in to apply pressure with a gauze pad. "I'll see if I can freshen the edges and put a few stitches in there for you, if you like."

"Oww... OWWWWWW," Chade whines as he feels the uncomfortable feeling of something he /knows/ should hurt. He shuts his eyes tightly and curses under his breath in a hybrid of Mandarin and English until he feels any tinge or pressure subside. Chade takes a few long, draw breaths and nods to the Doctor, "I'd appreciate anything ya can do for me, Doc... I've enough air conditionin' as it is," he says, pointing to the hole in his shirt.

Knox ambles off to take care of coffee cups and cleaning things while doctors do doctor things - because doctor things involve wounds and stitches in this case, and he has little want to be too close, because ew.

"Well, just sit tight," Julian advises, and peeks around the pad to flush the wound with yet more saline. "And you can lie down for this part, if it feels a little easier for you. All I need is stillness, so horizontal or vertical doesn't matter to me."

Delilah gets wide-eyed once more, and nods to Lu, squeezing Matty's hand. "I...Ash or Torres weren't shot, Matty," she says quickly, unwrapping her hand. "The guy we jus' hired, Chade, I think he got shot. I really don't know much right now, honest, but as far as I've seen, everybody's gonna be fine. I'm sorry, I gotta go, Lu says!" And with that, Delilah sets the picture of Matty and her brother Mikhail on Matty's chest, within reach if she wants it, and scurries out quickly, afraid to be in the way or make Matty worse. Although, before she's out of Matty's earshot, she whispers, "I love ya..."

Attack on Matty - IC Time: Apr 12, 2522 (Shamelessly stolen from Matty)

2008-02-19T18:25:50Z

Dark Alley - Persephone =>Persephone<=
==============================================================================

This dark alley is a dark dead end, the back exit blocked by rubble from a broken building. The ground is rough and littered with stones and bricks. Little light seems to be able to reach the alley itself, as tall buildings surround it on all sides. This place seems to be a perfect place for shady deals to be made or broken.

==============================================================================

[XXX.XX MHZ] You transmit, "Matty to CT, Matty to CT. I need help, ASAP! In the alley off Long Leg Sa--- *bbzzzzzscreech*"

Ashlyn arrives from Spacers District - Persephone.
Ashlyn has arrived.
Matrix arrives from Spacers District - Persephone.
Matrix has arrived.
Delilah arrives from Spacers District - Persephone.
Delilah has arrived.
Chade arrives from Spacers District - Persephone.
Chade has arrived.
Torres arrives from Spacers District - Persephone.
Torres has arrived.

In the slums, half a dozen men in expensive suits stand out like a sore thumb. Especially when they're all armed to the hilt and roughing up a single woman. Two of the suited men are covering the entrance to the alley, while another three are pushing Matty up against a wall and the sixth is standing a few feet away from the struggling woman, holding her two Slipshots in his hands.

Two of the men struggling with Matty are holding knives to her throat, while the third is in the process of cutting open her t-shirt to get at the flak jacket underneath at which point he slices the bindings to it and it falls to the ground, leaving her unprotected from bullets, though she still has on an undershirt.

Struggling against such treatment is only getting Matty knicks and cuts on her throat and face and one of the men barks and order in Russian at her before grabbing her hair to knock her head against the wall with brutal force, making her eyes roll backward in their sockets. This seems to be an unsanctioned move by the man with Matty's guns gives a soft spoken order to him and he flushes a bit, then says something in an apologetic tone.

Ashlyn isn't much of a runner, and is definatly panting by the time she arrives in the alley. Whetver she was expecting, suits seem to take her be surprise for a moment. But the captain is less than pleased by the scene being partially blocked by the men standing at the mouth of the alley no matter how well they're dressed. It's a narrow margine not punching someone the moment she arrives, but as of now, the numbers are far less than favorable. "What the hell is this?" she yells as she arrives on the scene.

Following close behind Ashlyn, Chade draws his pistol and racks the slide, stripping a round from the top of the magazine and placing it into the chamber. He holds it at a low ready position as, already, a few beads of sweat begin to form on his brow. Chade moves to the side of the Captain, and raises his weapon at the man furthest away from Matty. In an authoritative voice he says, "Right, then... How about you fellows step away from the lady there." He motions to his firearm, "This thing has a light trigger and I'm feelin' a bit itchy today."

Matrix is just itching to shoot somebody, or so it looks like when he reaches the mouth of the alley, flak jacket over his T-shirt, and shotgun swung on his back. He's probably as tired as Ash, but he doesn't show it, courtesy of a massive adrenaline rush. When Chade speaks up, he brings the shotgun into his grip and into a low ready position, but decides to stay silent and just throw a few glares around the men.
Matrix draws his Ithaca Hammerless Double 10g - 620.

When Torres rounds the corner, he assesses quickly. The lightfoot whips out of the shoulder holster as if on its own and he slingshots the slide an instant later, chambering a round. Not one to talk in armed confrontations, the gunhand instead, draws a bead on the nears goon guarding the alleyway. Eyes flicker expectantly to Ashlyn. All he needs is the word. Nothing more, nothing less.

Delilah follows not too far behind Ashlyn, the gun she purchased nearly a year ago and then never shot out in her hand. "Matty? Matty?" she calls out in a panicked voice, as though the XO were a lost puppy. When she catches sight of Matty going skull first into a wall, all reason flies out of her head and she rushes forward, a flailing mass of panic and anger.

There's no answer from the goons in suits to Ashlyn's yell, but the two of them pulls out guns and retreat a couple of steps to aim a the people converging on the scene. The man who has Matty's weapons, turn his head in that direction and stuffs on of the weapons into his waistband, then calmly aims the Slipshot at the XO's head, while still watching the people coming into the alley. "This is personal," he says in a cold voice. "I would suggest you all go away now and you will not be harmed." That said, he looks back to Matty, letting a cruel smile play over his lips.

"Well, we finally meet again, Radcliffe," the suit says in Russian and takes another step closer to Matty, still smiling. "It has taken a while to find you, but here we are. Now, please, tell your friends to go away or I will have them all killed." He gives a glance over toward the new arrivals and nods, his eyes coming back to look at Matty with a steely glint. "I would really rather not have to kill more than one person here today."

Matty shakes her head and comes back to, staring at the man in front of her, her struggling stopping, though there are still knives held to both sides of her neck. "Screw you, Ivan!" she seethes, giving a glance toward her crew mates as they enter the alley, a faint look of surprise in her eyes as she identifies each of them. "Those are my friends. If you harm them, I will haunt you forever."

Ashlyn's left arm arm flies out to stop Delilah before she passes her. "Yer damn right it's personal!" she yells to the suit with the Slipshod at Matty's head, obviosly in response to whatever's being said. "Lemme make it clear that at this point in time, I don't mind seein' a corpse a any one a ya." But seeing as no one has fired any shots yet and their arrival seems to have delayed the assult on Matty, she continues to wait and see where the confrontation is going. "But I guarantee one more move an' ain't all a you leavin' here alive."

Frowning, Chade hesistates a moment, the consideration of lowering his weapon clearly visible in his eyes. Better judgement and reason finally prevail and Chade grimmaces as he takes aim at the center mass of the man holding Matty and pulls the trigger of his weapon.

Chade shoots a bullet at Reaver with his Lightfoot 42 - 6591.
Chade successfully attacks Reaver using a Lightfoot 42 - 6591 at a 65 difficulty. (10)
- Reaver has taken 6 points of stun damage. She is currently Dazed.
- Reaver has taken 12 points of wound damage. She is currently Injured..

Matrix shoots two bullets at Reaver with his Ithaca Hammerless Double 10g - 620.
Matrix successfully attacks Reaver using a Ithaca Hammerless Double 10g - 620 at a 45 difficulty. (22)
- Reaver has taken 11 points of stun damage. She is currently Injured.
- Reaver has taken 16 points of wound damage. She is currently Injured..

Matrix's lips quirk just barely into a smile when Torres arrives. Four against six. Could've been a whole lot worse. Then, Delilah comes barreling into the alley, and he mutters, "Gorramit.", making an attempt to grab Del, but since Ashlyn has that covered, the motion is abandoned before any contact is made. When the people in the alley start talking, he raises an eyebrow, the meaning of each and every word flying right over his head, but assuming it's nothing good, he raises the shotgun to eye level, ready to shoot a bad guy whenever /something/ happens. And surprise surprise, Chade opens fire, and Matt does the same, unloading both barrels at the nearest goon. Poor bastard.

Torres shoots a bullet at Reaver with his Lightfoot 42 - 11239.
Torres successfully attacks Reaver using a Lightfoot 42 - 11239 at a 45 difficulty. (17)
- Reaver has taken 5 points of stun damage. She is currently Injured.
- Reaver has taken 10 points of wound damage. She is currently Unconscious..

Well, it's on, as Chade, then Matt open fire. Aiming at the other goon guarding the alley, the one not being perforated with shotgun pellets, Torres squeezes the trigger.

Delilah stops when Ashlyn puts her arm out, but she's visibly shaking, and her eyes are wide and frantic. "I don't understand what they're sayin'!" she cries, looking back and forth between Matty, the men, and Ashlyn. "I can't understand what they - " Then gunshots begin, and she lets out a cry, kneeling down on the ground and covering her ears as best she can to hide from the loud shots.

Reaver attacks Matty with her Survival Knife - 5512 using it as a weapon.
Reaver successfully attacks Matty using a Survival Knife - 5512 at a 45 difficulty. (6)
- Matty has taken 2 points of stun damage. She is currently Dazed.
- Matty has taken 6 points of wound damage. She is currently Injured..

Reaver shoots a bullet at Chade with her Slipshot 44 - 2126.
Reaver successfully attacks Chade using a Slipshot 44 - 2126 at a 60 difficulty. (20)
- Chade has taken 7 points of stun damage. He is currently Dazed.
- Chade has taken 12 points of wound damage. He is currently Injured..

The suit just laughs and shakes his head at the little woman trying to sound threatening. "Little girl," he says, going back to English. "You have no idea who you are dealing with, do you?" He tilts his head a little and shifts his stance, turning to aim the Slipshot at the Chaos crew instead of Matty. He's just about chosen a target among the group when shots are fired and one of the goons holding Matty goes down, while the other one just slides his knife over her neck, cutting a deep gash in her flesh, thankfully missing any major blood vessels.

The suit, in the mean time manages to get off a shot toward the group, hitting Chade in the shoulder and then dives forward to push away the goon who had just cut Matty's neck. "You idiot!" he shouts at the man and gives him a violent push to shove him into the line of fire. "I told you not to harm her. That job is /mine/." He then grabs Matty from behind and aims the Slipshot at her head, grinning cruelly to the Chaos crew.

"No more!" he shouts, laughing as he moves forward one step at a time, pushing Matty in front of him. "I will not hesitate to shoot. You believe me, da, Radcliffe? Tell your friends."

Chade graps his shoulder with his weak hand, putting pressure on the wound and goes down to a knee, cringing. "Seems we've come to a bit of an impass," Chade says, slowly getting back to his feet looking from the man with the blade to the man with the gone to his Captain. "How's s'about you let the lass go and we'll each go our separate ways, then?" Chade suggestions, "I'm sure we all have some business to go about..."

Matrix winces slightly at the shotgun's recoil, but no sound of discomfort comes out. When his target suddenly stops being a threat, he drops the weapon, not bothering to try to reload it with ammo he doesn't have, and tears his Lightfoot from its holster on his belt, aiming at the knife-wielding goon. "Shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck." is his litany, barely audible to even his crewmates.

Matrix lowers his Ithaca Hammerless Double 10g - 620 and returns it to its unreadied postion.
Matrix draws his Lightfoot 42 - 10865.

The goon Torres shot has hit the ground, groaning from the gunshot wound. Pointing his lightfoot at the other one who first cut Matty, Torres slides over to the goon he shot, and kicks his weapon away hard, out of reach and to the side. That done, he slowly backs up to give himself a little space again, and find a better angle of fire.

Matty is bleeding profusely. Over her own undershirt and the suit's suit too. But neither of them seem to care about that and both set of eyes are on the people crowding into the alley. Matty clenches her teeth against her anger, careful not to make any sudden moves that will make Ivan, the suit squeeze the trigger of her own Slipshot. She does give a slow nod to the question directed at her, though the Chaos crew will see the anger in her eyes at having to admit it. "Yeah, good ol' Ivan here ain't no stranger to killin' unarmed 'n defeseless people." she says calmly with an icy tone in her voice.

Ivan laughs again, keeping the muzzle of the Slipshot right against Matty's temple. He gives a look at the injured man, then at his own injured men and the one still standing. He barks a single word at him, neither English or Russian and the man stands downs, having switched his knife for a gun, which he now lowers toward the ground ever so slowly. "Ahhh, but Radcliffe here has a price to pay," he says and gives a glance over toward Ashlyn, smiling coldly. "One that Captain Tanner also has a part of. The rest of you.. You now also have a price to pay." He nods toward the injured men on the ground, indicating exactly what he means by those words, still smiling. "So, you see. I cannot just walk away. It is a matter of honour and balancing the books."

Delilah shoots a bullet at Reaver with her Lightfoot 42 - 5810.
Delilah successfully attacks Reaver using a Lightfoot 42 - 5810 at a 70 difficulty. (37)
- Reaver has taken 5 points of stun damage. She is currently Dazed.
- Reaver has taken 11 points of wound damage. She is currently Injured..

Seeing Matty cut from Delilah's position on the ground, covering her ears, causes her to panic anew. Held back once by Ashlyn or not, Delilah's one shred of common sense flies out the window when her friend is hurt, and she shakily aims the gun she's likely never fired in the direction of his lower half and pulls the trigger. She's too emotional to have likely even registered what the man said.

Chade shoots a bullet at Reaver with his Lightfoot 42 - 6591.
Chade unsuccessfully attacks Reaver using a Lightfoot 42 - 6591 at a 40 difficulty. (-24) .

Seeing Delilah's quick thinking, Chade takes advantage of the moment and opens fire upon the closer man holding the blade, but his own shoulder wound gets the better of his. Chade, again, drops to one knee in pain, looking over to Matrix for a better shot.

Matrix shoots a bullet at Reaver with his Lightfoot 42 - 10865.
Matrix successfully attacks Reaver using a Lightfoot 42 - 10865 at a 40 difficulty. (19)
- Reaver has taken 4 points of stun damage. She is currently Injured.
- Reaver has taken 8 points of wound damage. She is currently Injured..

Matrix glances to Torres, perhaps looking for any hints on what the hell to do. When Ivan and Matty speak up, he hesitates, and points his Lightfoot at some indeterminate point in space instead of the other goon, also lowering it by 45 degrees. When Delilah castrates Ivan, the engineer brings the pistol back up at the knife-wielder and squezees the trigger. Bang, target hit.

Torres flicks his gaze from the last standing goon to the suit with a gun to Matty's head. Pondering the next step in this impasse, Torres is about to mutter to Ashlyn when a shot cracks aloud to his side. It's .. Del?! A quick glance to the suit shows he's been hit! Matty! Gorramit. Then, Matt nails the other goon. It's getting bad. With no clear shot, Torres won't dare to injure the XO. His lightfoot puts a bead on the suit nonetheless. Gorramit! (repose)

Matty successfully attacks Reaver using a unarmed attack at a 75 difficulty. (0) .

Reaver shoots a bullet at Matrix with her Slipshot 44 - 2126.
Reaver unsuccessfully attacks Matrix using a Slipshot 44 - 2126 at a 75 difficulty. (-20) .

Ivan's shin is shattered and he stumbles backward, squeezing the trigger of the Slipshot as he does so. But Matty is already in a downward arch to the ground, so the shot goes wide. She sweeps her leg back to take out Ivan's from under him and then she scrambles around to grab his wrist and get the Slipshot away from him. She only just manages the move and tosses the weapon away, forgetting that Ivan still has her second Slipshot tucked away in his waistbelt.

As people start shooting at him, the suited goon gets off a shot before one enters his own body. It goes wide off Matrix and chinks off a nearby wall and then he goes down, dropping his weapon, which skitters off away from him. In the mean time, the second of the goons who had held Matty, is trying to get to his feet, using the wall as an aid, a pistol coming up to aim shakily toward the group of people, though he looks too dazed to actually get a decent aim and he doesn't try to even pull the trigger. All the other Russian goons are either down or in the process of going down.

Ashlyn successfully attacks Reaver using a unarmed attack at a 40 difficulty. (11)
- Reaver has taken 10 points of stun damage. She is currently Injured.
- Reaver has taken 6 points of wound damage. She is currently Injured..

Ashlyn might have had something to say on the matter through all that, but people more shooty then her, one of those people being Delilah somehow, take the situation well and firmly in hand. But whatever their price is that they were expected to pay today seems to be a forgone issue at this point. Sure the crew's wounded and bloodied, but a few seconds' shooting has drawn the line pretty clearly in the sand, as it were. Sliding up next to the dazed and injured man out of his what appears to be somewhat foggy field of view, Ashlyn slams the heel of her palm into the side of his jaw solidly. His head whacks back into the wall of the alley and he sinks to the filthy ground.

Torres has disconnected.

Having made it back to his feet once more, Chade walks forward at a brisk pace, kicking the knife away from the no unconscious man. He continues on, stopping just short of Matty and Ivan where he points his weapon at the feet of the wrestling duo. "Men are dead!" Chade yells. "Best back off before you're next."

A quick and bloody solution. Matrix lets out a quiet snort as a bullet whizzes past him, not even close, and turns towards Ivan, catching a glimpse of the other goon having woken up. And down he goes, thanks to Ash. Having run out of targets, he aims at the unlucky bastard currently in the process of being beat up by Matty, although he doesn't dare send lead into the commotion.

Delilah tests her Melee_Attack against a 50 difficulty. The result is unsuccessful (-33).

Delilah makes her flailing way over to where Matty is wrestling with Ivan, and brings her gun up to start whacking him on the head with it. But on the downswing, the gun slips somehow from her hands and goes skittering along the ground, sending Delilah chasing after it, behind Ivan and Matty, farther away from the crew.

Reaver shoots a bullet at Matty with her Slipshot 44 - 2126.
Reaver successfully attacks Matty using a Slipshot 44 - 2126 at a 50 difficulty. (21)
- Matty has taken 8 points of stun damage. She is currently Injured.
- Matty has taken 15 points of wound damage. She is currently Injured..

Matty rolls away from Ivan, stopping to lie on her back staring up at the person coming to stand over them. She frowns at him for a moment, then notices movement from the Russian suit next to her and watches him draw the Slipshot from his waistband, not caring one bit about Chade's warning. "No!" she screams, and tries getting up to put herself between Ivan and Chade.

Which was quite unnecessary as it was Matty the suit was aiming for in the first place. But her movement has him misjudge a shot meant for the head it goes into her chest instead, knocking her down flat on the ground. Delilah's would-be attack goes unnoticed, but at the sound of metal clattering on the ground, he turns toward her, laughing manically. "You fools! All of you! Fools!"

((Pause))

Serenity MUSH - Madison - Thursday, February 07, 2008, 6:18 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------

Another gunshot and Ashlyn ducks involuntarily. Like ducking would really help if the bullet were coming her way. But Ashlyn was really made for the engine room, not a gun battle. As such, she will certainly not be the first one to address this newest situation, needing a moment to shake her head as if to clear the ringing in her ears. "Matty!" she gasps as she sees the destination of the fired bullet.

Matrix shoots a bullet at Reaver with his Lightfoot 42 - 10865.
Matrix unsuccessfully attacks Reaver using a Lightfoot 42 - 10865 at a 60 difficulty. (-54) .

[ROLL] Torres rolls for a 50/50 chance. The result is successful (53).
[ROLL] Ashlyn rolls for a 50/50 chance. The result is successful (97).
[ROLL] Matty rolls for a 50/50 chance. The result is failure (5).
[ROLL] Delilah rolls for a 50/50 chance. The result is failure (50).
[ROLL] Matrix rolls for a 50/50 chance. The result is failure (46).

Matrix was just waiting for an opportunity to shoot Ivan, and there it is, when the commotion ends with lead and blood (how typical). Although he doesn't make any sound when the XO gets shot, for the umpteenth time in her life, his features shift from focused to furious, and he squeezes off a shot at Ivan. At least theoretically, as the bullet goes and hits Matty. Hopefully, she won't space him for this.

Torres shoots a bullet at Reaver with his Lightfoot 42 - 11239.
Torres successfully attacks Reaver using a Lightfoot 42 - 11239 at a 60 difficulty. (35)
- Reaver has taken 6 points of stun damage. She is currently Dazed.
- Reaver has taken 12 points of wound damage. She is currently Injured..

As more shots fire, Matty jerks twice from the results of impacting bullets. Torres catches that motion and immediately pulls the trigger of his lightfoot on Ivan, intent on ending this. Now. The pistol discharges with a flash and boom. Ivan is hit.

Delilah is off scurrying for her own gun when both Matrix and Torres fire, and though she flinches and whirls around once her Lightfoot is in hand, she only catches Ivan being shot, and doesn't realize Matty has taken a bullet, as well. Shaking with nerves and adrenaline, she aims the gun in the direction of the men on the ground, in case they make a move. Her teeth are chattering in fear, and she can barely hold onto the gun. She just stares at the wounded men, waiting for someone to step up and do something.

Matty is on the ground already, and fading away into unconsciousness, but when pain sears through her thigh, she lets out a weak groan, trying to raise herself up on an elbow, searching for a weapon, any weapon to get at Ivan. But the movement is too much and she falls back, banging her head against the pavement to knock her out completely.

Ivan attempt to change his aim back at Matty's head, apparently intent on killing her, even as bullets are flying at him and his leg is useless now. But he doesn't even get a chance to change his aim as he's hit in the head and slumps forward, dropping his gun and falling across Matty like a sack of potatoes. Meanwhile, the rest of the goons seem disinclined to do anything but lie on the ground, groaning and moaning.

Ashlyn tests her Strength against a 40 difficulty. The result is successful (20).

- Matty has taken 10 points of wound damage. She is currently Injured.

Ashlyn finally reaches the struggle on the ground, which is not so much of a struggle any more, skidding to a stop and dropping to her knees. She heaves Ivan's body off of Matty into the grimy pavement of the alley, ignoring him completely as he attention focuses on the XO. "Matty? Matty?!" she says, looking as if she wants to shake her and make her say soething but afraid to touch her. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her iComm, speaking into it hurriedly. "Lucinda? Lu, can ya hear me? We're in a alley outside Sally's an' Matty's hurt real bad." She looks up, surveying the rest of the damage to the crew. "Chade, too, but Matty's in a bad state. I dunno what ta do, there's a lot a blood!"

[XXX.XX MHZ] Ashlyn says, "Lucinda? Lu, can ya hear me? We're in a alley outside Sally's an' Matty's hurt real bad. Chade, too, but Matty's in a bad state. I dunno what ta do, there's a lot a blood!"

Matrix breathes out through gritted teeth when he miserably fails in the task of shooting a bad guy and twitches slightly when Torres solves the problem. He shakes his head, muttering something along the lines of 'unbelievable', while holstering his Lightfoot. "Well, that went /well/." he comments sarcastically, stepping over to his shotgun and picking it up.

Torres makes a point to inspect each assailant, pistol still out, kicking any nearby weapons away if they appear to be conscious. His eyes flicker to Matrix in reply to the pilot's comment, then they fall to Ashlyn and Matty, a look of worry on his face.

Delilah is gaping at the destruction around her, and nearly misses Ashlyn talking to Matty in her shock. It filters through to her brain after a few moments, however, and she tucks the gun away, rushing madly over to Matty and Ash's side. "Oh, my God. OhmiGOD. Ash, what do we do? I don't know what ta do? Should I get gauze? She said last time somethin' bout gauze...I don't remember!" Frantic tears are pouring from her eyes. "She can't die, Ash. She hasn't seen her room yet, she can't die..."

Matty is bleeding. From the cut in her neck. From the wound in her chest and now from a second bullet wound in her thigh. Bad day for Matty. Her face is pale and drawn, but she doesn't react to Ashlyn's voice at all, nor does she show any reaction to Delilah's frantic babbling. Her breathing is shallow and ragged, but then suddenly she coughs and blood splatters from her lips and down across her chin, although she still remains unaware of her surroundings.

[XXX.XX MHZ] Lucinda transmits, "You Apply pressure, Ash, slow the bleeding. Try to keep them concious. I'm dispatching an emergency vehicle to pick you up. I'll be ready and waiting."

Ashlyn seems relativly under control all things considered. "Easy, `Lilah," she says with a calm that might be forced. "You been hurt way worse'n this an' you pulled through." Ashlyn doesn't really know this of course, not knowing what she's looking at. The caughing of blood... well that's disconserting, but at least Matty's obviously still in some fashion alive. "An' ain't nothin' that can kill Matty. It's gonna be a'ight, Del, just stay calm. Lu'll be here any moment..." Her knuckles are white on her iComm as it transmits. She drops it and reaches into her pocket, drawing out a cloth that might have been intended to be a rag, though no longer being an engineer, it's plenty clean, or at least cleaner then her hands. She places it over the wound on Matty's chest and presses, silent for now and totally ignoring everything else of lesser importance than keeping Matty alive.

"Yes she can, and she--" Matrix bites his tongue in the middle of his own remark when Ash starts reassuring Delilah, before wedging his shotgun between his knees, and then reaches for his jacket as if to take it off, pausing as his earpiece starts chittering, and abandoning the motion once it stops. "Well, at least we don't have to carry her there." he says, swinging the shotgun over his back, so that it won't fall off or hinder movement, and then the pilot steps closer to the three women, in case another pair of hands is needed.

Torres motions to a couple of the assailants who seem mobile enough to move, saying to them, "Get over there." His pistol points to an area off to the side, away from the crew. "Now." They move, moaning and wincing from the pain of it, but they obey, limping toward the location Torres indicates. One begins to remark on their injuries. "Ruttin' shuddup!" replies Torres tersely. Glimpsing to Ashlyn, Torres says, "Captain, what about these hoods? Call the Feds?"

Matty coughs again with more blood coming up and out, but she's still not conscious enough to respond to anything going on around her. Good thing, then, that sirens can be heard in the distance and coming closer by the second.

Ashlyn takes a moment even to register that she's being spoken directly to. Despite what she said to Delilah, Matty looks a hell of a lot like someone who's dieing. Both hands pressed into the cloth on the gunshot wound as the XO's blood begins to stain the rag a vibrant red, she looks up at Torres. "Yeah. Tie their hands an' feet. If Lu's people get here first, we'll leave `em," she says in that overly calm and rational voice. "If you don't got nothin' I got zip ties in my left lower cargo pocket." She nods to the pocket, which hangs just below her knee, offset enough not to be between her leg and the ground. "Matrix could you-"

Ashlyn is cut off as flashing lights wash over the dim alley, accompanied by the loud howl of a siren, and trained emergency personell rush toward the group. The two men drop a gurney beside Matty, but look to the injured suits Torres is hearding. "The transmission only said two injured," one of them says, though they hurriedly take over the scene in any case, obviously intent on the woman bleeding out rather than the men who mostly seem to have seen better days. And without much ado at all Matty is quickly transfered into better hands and hoisted off the ground.

IC Time: Apr 11, 2522 - Steaks and Kisses

2008-02-05T21:53:35Z

You are entering Chaos Theory - Commons.
Chaos Theory - Commons =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
==============================================================================
The crew commons is a space large enough to hold a wooden table which seats eight people on various chairs of different designs. Along one wall is a large array of cupboards and drawers, presumably for food storage. On the opposite side of the room is a small galley area with a refrigerator, a few more cupboards and drawers, probably for dishes and silverware and the like. An obviously well-used coffee pot sits on the center counter, having been placed in the most convenient place in the whole room. Beside the galley area is a small circular lounge area, old sofas lining the walls and a small, round coffee table in the middle, still providing plenty of room to walk around. On the back wall, facing toward the dining area, hangs a large portrait, which those well-versed in this particular obscure back-corner of science might recognize as a Lorenz attractor. A round skylight window is built into the ceiling above this area, offering a nice view of the sky or space.
==============================================================================

It's nearly 11 PM at night, and yet Delilah is busy in the kitchen. The lights are all on and she's wearing her apron, leaning against the counter peering at a book, and muttering to herself. A mug of coffee is at her right side, and to her left is a large amount of what appears to be steak of some kind. About 8 various bottles are lined up to the right of the meat, along with a near army of spices, all facing with the names out, all lined up neatly in an organized fashion. A large tupperware tub is sitting on the stove.

Delilah runs her hands through her hair as she mumbles, and reaches out for the coffee. She's not looking at it though, focused on the book instead - and her hand hits the mug, sending it off the counter towards the floor.

Talon comes ambling into the Commons, raking his fingers back through his hair. He notices Delilah and smiles slightly, moving a little hesitantly forward, his little PDA-like computer being slipped away into a pocket for now. "I didn't exp - " is all he gets out before she knocks over the mug, and he's too far to even think about catching it before it hits the ground. He only manages to get out an unintelligible kind of warning and a pointed finger to try and catch Delilah's attention.

Delilah yelps when the mug falls, and leans backwards on her arms when it shatters, sending hot coffee and ceramic shards everywhere. Her legs are still too close, due to her limited reflexes with her mostly healed wound, and she gets a good dose of hot coffee on her feet. She squeezes her eyes tight and grits her teeth, hissing through them sharply and cringing. She's quiet for a few moments, waiting for the pain to fade, before opening her eyes again and glancing at Talon. "Can ya help me, please?" she asks quickly. "I don't wanna step in it..." A glance downward reveals that like any smart, intelligent cook, she is wearing flip-flops while cooking.

Talon nods once, sharply, and gets down to picking up pieces of the mug. He gets most of the big ones out of the way before moving over to grab some paper towels to wipe away the hot liquid from her feet, and goes back for the smaller fragments, just gathering them all into the huge palm of his left hand. "Where should I put these?" he asks, looking around for a suitable disposal.

Delilah points over to a bin sitting on the far right side of the counterspace, which appears to be used as a disposal of some kind. "Trash goes there," she says, easing down off her tiptoes. "Jus' gets stored till we either go ta a port, or we space it iffn' we ain't hit a port in a while." She crosses over to the nearest chair and sits down, pulling her jeans up on her legs gingerly and examining the red, puffy, swollen areas where the hot coffee scalded some of the skin on her feet. "Wow," she mumbles, "Looks awful bad fer jus' not payin' attention." She sighs and looks back to him. "Wouldja mind grabbing some cream from the Medbay fer me? I'm sorry, I'm sure ya weren't 'spectin' ta be waitin' on me when ya snuck in here so late."

Talon smiles faintly as he dumps the remains of the coffee mug into the trash. "Wouldn't mind at all," he replies easily, and disappears for a few moments. In the wrong direction. He reappears moments later with a sheepish look on his face. "Not that way," he mutters, and goes the right way this time. Again, he reappears moments later, this time with a burn cream in hand as well as a light gauze bandage. "Here. Hold this for a second..." He hands her the gauze as he begins to apply the cream to the swollen areas of her leg.

Delilah giggles a bit as Talon gets lost, but she bites her lower lip and accepts the gauze from him. She winces as he touches the scalds, and watches him go to work for a few moments. "Why were ya comin' in here so late, anyway? Didn't think anybody was up but Trix, an' he's always up till some ungodly hour of the mornin' anyway. S'why I keep a fresh pot of coffee at night." Woefully glancing to the food still on the counter, she sighs and continues. "Ya seemed so busy the last little bit, figured ya were in yer bunk sendin' out WAVEs 'bout the stuff ya found at the Valley. I...missed you." The last sentence is said in a hopeful tone, and her eyes soften as she goes back to watching him.

Talon shakes his head. "I haven't been sending any WAVEs anywhere - I wouldn't want me getting tracked back to this ship and your crew getting in trouble. It's not unusual for me to go into radio silence, and my contacts don't become anxious when they don't hear from me in a little while." He finishes up with the cream and reaches up for the gauze, to lightly wrap the scalds. "Sometimes I just get lost in my thoughts and lose track completely of time and space. Sometimes, I think back to the War, I think back to that last battle and I can't fall asleep, so many questions are in my mind that will never be answered. It's enough to drive a man insane."

Delilah looks slightly disappointed when he doesn't return her sentiment, but she covers it quickly by leaning up to him and reaching out for his chin with her right hand, trying to tug it up towards her. "Why don't ya jus' come an' get me then, darlin'? Or let me know ya need me, need distraction? I don't like the thought of ya in there all alone jus' starin' off inta nowheres, makin' yerself crazy. 'Specially when ya ain't alone, not now. I can make ya food, I could get ya some tea, I could give ya a massage..." Her hand trails down to his neck, and she begins to knead the muscle there lightly. "Ya didn't say...what was it that brought ya in here?" she murmurs, continuing to massage him gently while she waits for a response.

Talon considers for a moment, silent except for a little moan in response to the massage. "I'm not... quite sure," he answers at last. "I felt I needed some solitude... But after a long spell of it, I felt the need for more freedom. I'm not used to being on a ship for long periods of time. But I'm not sure why I came out here." He relaxes into her hands, muscles unwinding little by little under her fingertips.

Delilah nods as he speaks, smiling softly at his moan. She moves her other hand to the other side of his neck, and begins to massage there, as well. "Are ya hungry? I can make ya some food while I figure out what I'm doin' with this meat." she offers. "An' I think we landed on 'Seph a little bit earlier, so iffn' yer wantin' a stroll, we could always go out ta the Docks." While she works on him with her hands, she leans forward until her forehead is leaning against his. "I jus' wanna make ya happy, jus' want ya to relax. All ya gotta do is tell me what ya want or need, an' I'll take care of it for ya."

Talon groans again as she unwinds his tense muscles, untouched in this way for so long. "Food... is good," he manages to half-grunt. He leans his forehead a bit against hers too, closing his eyes with a little sigh. "Sorry if I'm awkward with this whole... thing. I'm uncomfortable with attention of any kind. And being attached. It's not easy for me. It feels unnatural." He rolls his neck slightly, trying to stretch it out.

" I jus' wanna be yer girl," Delilah responds simply. "An' I don't 'spect ya ta be comin' after me everyday with flowers an' whatnot, though..." she pauses for a moment, grinning at him. "Though the roses were awful nice that day. But I ain't askin' fer ya ta be an expert on relationships, and in fact it would probably hurt me iffn' ya were. 'Sides," she reassures, moving her forehead off of his to better reach the muscles which extend down onto his back, "I ain't never even been in one afore. So don't overthink this, ya know? Jus' say what's on yer thoughts always, an' be honest with me. I can't tell ya how important that is ta me. Be honest." She massages for a little while more, pausing in case he wants to respond, though she does ask quickly, "Any kinda food in particular?"

Talon thinks, though that's hard to do being all massaged. "I'm not much the romantic type, and I feel like that's what you'd want and need," he says hesitantly. "I'm not even any good at... talking." He falls silent again, sighing in satisfaction. "That feels really good..." he murmurs, leaning into her hands. "I'll be honest. I try always to be. As for food... I'm not sure. What do you have?"

"I jus' want you," Delilah responds, looking at him with an earnest expression. "Ta be in yer life an' ta be with ya. Don't worry 'bout you not bein' what I'm looking for. I'd tell ya. See, you're thinkin' 'bout it too hard, an' yer gonna make yourself nervous an' talk yerself inta bein' unhappy." She smirks a bit when he says her massage feels good, and leans more towards him as well. "An' I don't know why ya think yer not good at talkin'. Don't ya remember that night we had our date at that fancy place, an' how long we talked 'bout yer folks an' you swimmin' in the lake when you were little? I loved that night. Ya talk jus' fine when ya stick 'round. It's when ya jus' walk away that it ain't so good." She stops massaging for a moment, thinking, before leaning forward and kissing him softly, lightly on the lips, if he lets her. "Mmm...what do we have?" she murmurs after the kiss. "We have or I can get jus' 'bout anythin' ya want. What are ya in the mood for, is the real question?" She slides her hands down his neck to cup his face in her hands, nuzzling her nose against his. "Eskimo kiss!"

Talon relaxes and kisses back with feeling, until the eskimo kiss where he tenses up and almost pulls away. At best, he bears it, not really returning the eskimo kiss, but not rejecting it either. "I always think too much about things. That's my problem. That's how I ended up traipsing all across the 'Verse with just the shirt on my back, with nothing to my name except a charge sheet on every planet." He chuckles nervously at the joke-that's-not-a-joke, and an awkward silence fills the gap. "Some kind of rare meat," he decides at last with certainty. "Over an open flame, would be nice."

Delilah tries not to let Talon see her disappointment when he lets the sweet moment go by without any kind of reciprocation on his part, and turns her head away. She gently pulls her hands back and steps up, slipping her feet gently back into her impractical shoes. "Well, I got all this steak," she says, making her way back to the kitchen counter. "An' I'm sure I can spare some fer ya. I bought too much as it is anyway, but it was on sale, an' we don't often get steak 'round here. An' if we head out to the Docks, I'm sure I can set a grill up of some kind. We got some charcoal an' whatnot in the pantry, probably leftover from some kinda cookout. So I jus' need a metal box an' a grate, an' we're fine." She begins to stare at the rows of organized spices, chewing on her lip as she does so. Her back is to Talon, but her shoulders seem awkward. "Got any preference fer flavor?"

Talon shakes his head. "I don't really know anything about cooking... Really cooking, I mean. There were steaks I had out on the Rim, just slabs of meat freshly hunted with some kind of coarse pepper grilled over an open flame, those were the best steaks I ever had. But I couldn't tell you how they made them if my life depended on it." He glances at the spice rack - most of it is meaningless to him. "I'm not /too/ hungry, though," he notes as an afterthought.

Delilah nods and walks carefully to the rows of spices, picking out the only one that isn't neatly labelled. The spices in it are dark, nearly black. "This is my Pa's steak seasoning," she explains, pride on her face. "We made this together, probably twenty years of experimentin' in this little thing. Awful lotta people asked us fer the mix to it, but Pa never would give it ta them, ya know." Setting that aside on the counter next to the meat, and pulls a tray out of a cupboard under the sink. Setting the spice and a plate on it, she moves a rather large steak onto the plate, along with a grilling fork. Moving to the pantry, she grabs a few potatoes and an onion. Because apparently not very hungry doesn't mean much to her. "So, when do ya think you'd wanna meet my Pa?" she asks casually, while she washes the potatoes and peels the onion. "I think y'all would get along great."

"Your... Pa?" Talon asks, swallowing hard. He watches Delilah work in silence for a bit, mulling over the question. "I don't really... I don't know," he answers at last. "Is that something you want, right away? I was thinking - hoping - that we would take it slow, and we would... get to know each other, before anything else, really. I hardly know much about you."

Delilah is rather quick to respond soothingly. "Okay. That's fine, really. I understand iffn' that's how ya feel, I ain't gonna push ya into places ya don't want." As she speaks, she cuts up the onion and potatoes, wrapping them up in foil packages with some spices and butter added inside. Twisting them shut, she sets them to the side and begins to spice the huge steak she picked out for Talon. "You know I'll tell ya anythin' ya ever want, an' I mean that." Rinsing her hands off in the sink with soap, she quickly dries them off on a towel and moves to where he's seated, leaning down to place both her hands on the sides of his neck. "Would ya mind bringin' the bag of charcoal with me downstairs ta find somethin' ta grill it in?" she murmurs, leaning closer and closer to him, breathing in his smell deep, waiting for him to respond.

"Of course not," Talon murmurs in reply, leaning back against her hands a bit. He stays in that position a little longer, relishing the feel of her hands against him, before getting up and grabbing the stuff to go downstairs with her. "I want to say I'll also tell you anything you ever want to know, but it's not so easy for me. I haven't talked to people very much in the last..." He thinks on it for a moment. "...Ten years. Really talked, I mean. About important things, not just... memories, and idle chatter."

Delilah murmurs a low, "Mmm..." as Talon leans into her touch, smiling softly. When he gets up and moves to get what she asked, she sets the steak, some utensils, and the foil pockets on a large tray, and moves towards him, ready to lead the way down the stairs. "Well, I understand that," she replies, watching him with hooded eyes. "An' as long as ya wanna get past that...as long as we know ya want ta be able ta tell me everythin', an' ta work on it with me, that's all I can ask. I'll try my best ta be patient..ya jus' gotta be willin' ta get through it with me, okay?" She smiles at him, and sways toward him a bit, her shoulder brushing his. "Ready ta go hunt fer stuff in the cargo bay? An' while we do that, you can ask me anythin' ya wanna know, alright?"

IC Time: Apr 10, 2522 - Meeting Chade

2008-02-05T16:32:27Z

Chaos Theory - Med Bay =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
==============================================================================
While being more of a walkthrough area than a room itself, this area connects the cargo area to the rest of the ship. There are a few beds, comfortable enough and each with its own blanket, set up against two of the walls, for those who become seriously injured, or just for the ship's doctor to either nap or spend the night here. Medical equipment is either tucked away into the cupboards and lockers in the area or set out on the counters, depending on the size of it. A set of open grate-metal stairs leads up and into the common area of the ship.
==============================================================================

You can hear it from the cargo bay below... A whiny, sickly little howl. It gets a bit closer as you hear boots on the metal steps leading up to the catwalks. "Rooowwlllalll." *huff* *puff*. Finally, a lull in the steps and, finally, Chade pokes his head into the medbay, though you can see he's cradling his left hand, "Anyone in here? Got me a bit of a knife wound here."

Delilah appears at the door to the medbay, having heard the sounds from the galley where she was working. She screams at the sight of the man in the medbay, whom she's never seen before, and screams once more when she sees the blood on the floor. Disappearing, she re-emerges brandishing a skillet. "W-what do ya want?" she asks, her voice trembling. "Ya ain't gonna blow us up, are ya?"

Chade turns a few shades paler as he encounters a woman armed with a deadly frying pan, he puts his hands up to try to prevent a swing, causing his wound to unstaunch and bleed a bit more, "No, no, no! The captain... Ashlyn," he starts to explain, "She hired me as a backup pilot the other day. I thought word would've gotten around by now." He takes a few steps backwards to try to ease a bit of the tension, "So, let's not go makin' hasty choices with the cookware, now, eh?"

"You...you're...Ash? Ash hired ya?" It seems that either Delilah is easily swayed, or Ashlyn's name is magic, or maybe the distrust was just a major effort on the cook's part, because the skillet is thrown to the floor and Delilah begins to flail about the med bay and Chade madly. "I don't know where everything is! I don't know what to do! I'm only ever in here when I'm hurt, I never take care of anybody unless they're hungry - are you hungry? I can fix that but OH, I think Matty said something about gauze!" She stops for a moment to breathe, before yanking open drawers in search of the magic gauze. "I don't even know what that looks like!" she wails.

"I think it's the white... gauzy stuff," is all Chade can think of to say... where once he was panicky, this one brought it to a whole new level. He looks down at his hand and removes the hand that is applying the pressure, "Looks like the bleedin's stopped," he says, "Maybe just needs a bit of a wash and a bandage or something now." Hoping to calm her down a bit more, he smiles at the woman, "Name's Chade... I'd, uh, shake your hand, but.. well, you know."

Delilah just stands there and squeaks helplessly, glancing from him, his hand, and the drawers. "Wash?" she asks uncertainly, eyeing the sink. "Okay. Okay. I can help ya wash it. An' I think there's bandages in the first aid kit." She seems a bit better now, though she does lean forward to peer at him. "Ya weren't shot, were ya? Cuz I don't think I can help ya ifffn' ya were shot, an' I don't think I can feed ya like that, either." She reaches out to grab his hand, and assuming he allows her, drag him over to the sink where she runs some water and bounces from one foot to the next frantically. "Hot or cold?" she asks nervously. "I don't know what to do! Ya promise ya won't blow us up?"

He chuckles and allows himself to be led, "Warm water, if ye could," he says. "Not shot, no -- I did have a great story all planned out about a bar fight, multiple people, cunning heroics on my part, but," he pauses with a sigh, "Truth is, I was eating an apple and I cut my hand when some kid tried to yank my satchel offa my shoulder.' Chade looks to the ground and shakes his head, "Embarrasin', really. So, be safe in knowin' that if I can't keep from cuttin' on myself with a little knife, I prolly ain't able to handle explosive materials, ya know?"

Delilah's eyes melt into twin pools of near anime-like pity and sadness. "You lost an apple ta a little boy?" she asks, clearly only hearing her own version. "You poor thing!" she cries, yanking his hand under the water after she's adjusted the temperature. "We'll get your hand fixed right up and then I will make you a gigantic apple pie, alright?" Never mind the fact that apples are retardedly expensive, she'll find a bushel, apparently. "Do you like hugs? Are you allergic to anything? Are you a pirate or a Browncoat?"

Chade's mind races trying to keep up with all of the questions, "Ermm, Apple Pie would be swell... ye got apples, here? I saved up my money for a week to get the small batch that I did." Chade cringes at little bit as the water rushes over his wound, apparently a bit too hot, but he ignores the pain. "Hugs are fine an' all -- I don't care for the menfolk, if ya know what I mean, though. No allergies, food or otherwise. And I fought for the Independents," he says, a bit of pride in his voice with the last statement.

Once Delilah is finished rinsing off the hand, she throws her arms around Chade in a gigantic hug. "Thanks fer fightin' fer me," she whispers. "An' welcome ta the crew." Delilah's ritual over, she steps back and beams at Chade. Pointing over to the first aid kit on the counter, she informs him, "Bandages are in there, though I don't know how ta use 'em. Iffn' ya wanna get the right kind out an' tell me how, I can put it on fer ya." She watches him for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip, before bursting out with, "I'm Delilah."

Chade holds his hand up so the water drips down his arm as he rummages through the cabinet, "You're very welcome," he replies, pulling out a wrapper. "An' if ya could just open this for me, I'm sure we could manage." He leans against the wall with a cunning smile at this cheerful individual, "Very nice to meet you, Delilah... been on crew here for long? I take it from you distinct selection of weapons, you enjoy making food?"

Delilah beams and her eyes shift over to the skillet laying on the floor in the doorway. "Almost a year," she comments cheerfully, stepping forward and pointing to the wrapper. "Need me ta put it on?" she asks. "An' yeah, I'm the ship's cook. Actually, I'm really the only one what knows how ta make anythin', so they keep me around." She smiles, but as she says the last words, her voice takes on a barely noticeable bitter edge to it. "Anyway! What's yer favorite food? I try ta make everybody their favorite thing when they first come on, less it's seafood or somethin' we ain't gonna afford. An' naw, we ain't got fresh apples, but iffn' ya want 'em, I can either send ta my Pa on Lilac fer 'em, or we can ask Cap'n Ash's family on Hera. Or dependin' on where we go fer cargo, we can grab some as they come. Ya never know what ya can find in the port's markets fer cheap. Not on 'Seph, though. Everythin's pricey here."

He shakes he head as he grabs the dressing from the package and lies it on his hand, while he tears off pieces of tape in his mouth, "What I like and what I eat are two completely different things, you know?" he says with a grin. "Steak is a personally favorite -- I prefer cow over horse, but then again, I'm happy with a nice Shepard's Pie, as long as it's spiced all nice like," he says as he finally gets the tape onto his hand and the bandage. He crumbles up the wrapper and tosses it into the trash and flexes his hand a few times to make sure it'll stick, "Ain't very good a putting these things on well... Might need to do something to remedy that."

Delilah nods, just watching him work. "Well, ya did a much better job than I woulda done," she comments. "We got a doc on board, sorts. His name's Deco, though I ain't sure jus' yet where he is this mornin'." When Chade mentions his food tastes, her eyes light up. "Steak?! I jus' bought a whole load'a steak! Well, that's what they said it was, an' I try not ta ask too many questions when steak comes that cheap, ya know. It was in bulk, so I got a lot an' we gotta eat it here right fast, so..." She trails off, peering into the kitchen. "Want ta come keep me company while I work? Less ya got somethin' better ta do. Like flyin' - I mean, Matrix is a pilot, but he's in his room most'a the time, doin' stuff on the Cortex. An' Bish...well. Bish ain't flyin' much these days, I don't think. He's tryin' ta lay low on accounta his wife comin' round. Plus, he's sick, last I heard. An' Ash is tryin' ta take care of 'im so we can plan their weddin'." No explanation is given for the fact that Bishop has a wife and is also planning his own wedding. "Do ya have stuff ta do today?"

He shakes his head, "Naw, not really... It's been a while since I've been up in my sky, so I'm lookin' forward to getting back into the black, ya know?" He looks around, peeking out of the medbay door, "S'like there's a lot of crew, but it's pretty quiet around here. At least for the past few days. Usually this dead?"

Delilah gulps when Chade says the word dead, but she swallows down her reaction and gestures to the door with a weak smile. "Yeah, Matty's gone offship, it looks like, though I ain't sure why. An' most everybody in the crew's been really, really sick as of late. They're all probably in their bunks restin'. Actually, I think I might be the only one who didn't get it. And one of our guys is in the hospital, I think, so..." Her eyes wander out the door to the hallway leading to the bunks. "An' Talon...well. Talon's holed himself up fer somereason. It's best ta jus' not ask."
INARA: Has seduced the Database.

Chade nods solemnly, "Gotcha... Ashlyn had mentioned that there was a sickness, but didn't know most of the crew were affected by it." He chuckles inwardly for a brief moment, "Jus' glad I don't get sick too often." Sighing, he looks around, "Ah well. I suppose I should look about and familiarize myself with the ship... It's been a while since I've been on a Firefly."

"Yeah, I had a bowl of soup at the ready at all times," Delilah jokes, though her eyes are still far down that corridor. Snapping them back to the present moment, she sighs and seems to put her thoughts out of her mind, smiling to Chade afterwards and taking a few steps towards the medbay exit. "Well, iffn' you'll come with me, I can deal with what I had goin' in the kitchen an' then take ya 'round fer a tour? I ain't the best, cuz there's some parts of the ship I jus' never hafta go ta, but I'll do my best."

"Actually," Chade says, "That'd be might appreciated." He smiles and turns towards the door, gesturing that she lead away. "It's been about 8 years or so, if'n I reckon right. Flew one in the war and then again for a short term job." He chuckles, "Seems the captain was smuggling a few unscrupulous items and got humped by the feds on Greentree."

You are entering Chaos Theory - Commons.
Chaos Theory - Commons =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
==============================================================================
The crew commons is a space large enough to hold a wooden table which seats eight people on various chairs of different designs. Along one wall is a large array of cupboards and drawers, presumably for food storage. On the opposite side of the room is a small galley area with a refrigerator, a few more cupboards and drawers, probably for dishes and silverware and the like. An obviously well-used coffee pot sits on the center counter, having been placed in the most convenient place in the whole room. Beside the galley area is a small circular lounge area, old sofas lining the walls and a small, round coffee table in the middle, still providing plenty of room to walk around. On the back wall, facing toward the dining area, hangs a large portrait, which those well-versed in this particular obscure back-corner of science might recognize as a Lorenz attractor. A round skylight window is built into the ceiling above this area, offering a nice view of the sky or space.
==============================================================================

Delilah cringes when Chade uses the word 'humped' as an adjective, and steps ahead of the man to lead to the Commons. "Well, we don't deal with too much of smugglin' type stuff. That...I know of. I mean, when I said I just cook, I really meant it. But I don't think we do things like that. Although we have problems on this ship all the time, we might as well be breakin' the law." She grins and enters the Commons, where the smell of fresh baking is thick. Pointing to the coffee pot, which is full, Delilah asks, "Would ya like some coffee while I get some things out?"

He can't help but grin at her frantic pace of speech, "Have any tea?" he asks, leaning up against a bulkhead. "To be honest, I've done a bit of smuggling," Chade admits, "If you want to call it that... Ran some needed medical supplies out to Whitefall a few years back." He sighed, tilting his headback, "Bad sickness. Took a lot of people..." He rights his head again to look at her, "Felt almost like I did back in the war, runnin supplies. Ya just can't not do it."

Delilah blinks when Chade turns down coffee and asks for tea. "Really?" she asks, as though he's making a joke. "I mean, yeah, we got tea, but...I'm just surprised is all. Do ya drink it with jam in it? We had a doc once, she drank her tea with raspberry jam in it. I thought it were weird, but she seemed ta like it." Moving over to the oven, Delilah slips on an oven mitt and throws the door open, leaning her head back away from the heat. Reaching in, she grabs a pan and out comes a full batch of what appears to be small cookies shaped like hearts. She sets them on top of the range and closes the door with a sigh before glancing over to the pantry. "Actually, now that I think of it, Tali mighta drank the last of our tea..."

Chade cringes at the thought, "That's just all kinds of wierd if ya ask me," he says. "I jus' take mine with some sugar, but coffee'll do if that's that." He pauses a moment to ponder jam inside of tea and then just shudders, "Just my parents used to drink it all of the time, so I never got the cravin' for coffee that most folks do. Sounds wierd, huh?" he asks. "Beer, steak, tea... not so much on the coffee, heh!"

"I thought it was weird, too," Delilah giggles, "But I didn't want ta say nothin' cuz she was Russian, an' our XO is Russian, an' she can be kinda...I dunno. She gets mad iffn' ya poke fun sometimes at what other people like ta do. One of my first days on the ship, I said it were wrong an' gross fer people ta eat little puppies, an' she didn't like that none." Delilah cringes at the memory, and grabs a nearby spatula to begin moving cookies from the sheet pan to a cooling rack laid out on the counter. "There's mugs in the cupboard here," she directs him to a cupboard door to her right, "An' the sugar is in that jar below it, an' the cream's in the fridge. I like mine awful sweet an' light." At Chade's mention of booze, she narrows her eyes at him and replies in a serious tone, "Please keep anything like that away from Matty, okay?"

He grabs a mug from the self and pours a cup for himself, tossing in a couple of sugars and a splash of the white stuff that he hopes is real cream. "Sure, sure -- s'have a problem with the sauce?" he asks, "I don't drink all that much, unless I'm in a bar... or in my bunk. Or I'm bored. Or alone." He quiets for a moment and takes a sip of his coffee as he tries to think of more times that he enjoys a beer or two.

"Well, I ain't sure I should go 'round sharin' other people's personal stuff," Delilah says uncertainly, torn about what the right thing to do here is. "I'm jus' sayin' I'd take it as a personal favor iffn' ya would try not ta have the stuff 'round Matty, iffn' ya can avoid it." She doesn't comment on Chade's apparent round the clock drinking habits, either too lost in her thoughts about Matty, or in moving these cookies. When the pan is bare, she wipes her hands off on a nearby towel briskly and smiles at Chade once more. "Can't do anythin' with 'em while they're coolin', so it's as good a time as any ta show ya 'round!"

"Fair enough, fair enough," Chade says, noticing the look of concern on her face, "An' don't worry yourself, you'll find I'm a lot of talk when it comes to some things..." He takes a sip of his coffee, "What'd my ma' say.. I use humor for a 'defense mechanism.'" Chade shrugs and chuckles, "Whatever that's meaning." He downs the last of his coffee and puts the mug in the sink, nodding, "How's abotu we get on to that tour, then." He follows Delilah off to explore the other areas in the ship...

IC Time: Mar 30, 2522 - Torres and Ash Sick!

2008-02-05T15:17:41Z

You are entering Chaos Theory - Med Bay.
Chaos Theory - Med Bay =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
=============================================================================
While being more of a walkthrough area than a room itself, this area connects the cargo area to the rest of the ship. There are a few beds, comfortable enough and each with its own blanket, set up against two of the walls, for those who become seriously injured, or just for the ship's doctor to either nap or spend the night here. Medical equipment is either tucked away into the cupboards and lockers in the area or set out on the counters, depending on the size of it. A set of open grate-metal stairs leads up and into the common area of the ship.
=============================================================================

Medbay is empty except for the prone figure of Torres on the bed. For now, there's no movement from him, may mean he's asleep. Then again, the small moan might indicate otherwise.

Delilah enters the medbay quietly, gripping a covered tray between her hands tightly. "Miya?" she calls out quitely, unsure of whether to disturb him or not. "Are ya feelin' any better? I brought some things for ya..." She glances down at the tray worriedly, and leans against the wall.

The only reaction is another moan, followed by Torres rolling onto his back, the better to see Delilah. His eyes crack open, glancing her way briefly. "The nausea's gone, " he murmurs, "but still feverish. So tired."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," Delilah murmurs softly, moving from her post on the wall to set down the tray on a nearby counter. "I knew ya weren't eatin' much, what with bein' sick, so I brought ya some food in case ya felt up ta it. Do ya need anythin'? More blankets, somethin' fer the fever? I don't know where Deco is, but I'm sure there's somethin' like aspirin 'round here somewheres..." She looks around the bay dubiously, unsure of where to find those things. She's spent a lot of time in this room...but mostly in Torres' position, not as a caretaker.

Torres lies there a moment, then shakes his head. "Ain't hungry." Another delay until he adds, "But Deco keeps railin' on me to drink fluids. Sick a water." His eyes open to glance at Delilah before he asks, "Ya got anything warm? Like broth?"

Delilah beams and raises the cover of the tray, to reveal homemade chicken soup, crackers with peanut butter, and a large glass of what appears to be apple juice. "It's got stuff in it, like chicken an' vegetables an' some noodles," she explains, picking up the bowl to sit down on a stool near Torres' bed. "But it's more broth than anythin' else, yeah." She stirs the soup a few times before adding, "Ya want me ta put the crackers in, so they get all soggy? Might be a good way fer ya to eat them like that." Glancing at Torres, she reaches out a tender hand and smoothes his hair back, assuming he doesn't move away. "Poor Miya," she murmurs softly. I'm so sorry ya ain't feelin' right."

Ashlyn arrives from Chaos Theory - Commons.
Ashlyn has arrived.

If the prospect of a real meal seems alluring to Torres, he's not showing it. In fact, all it elicits is a flicker of the eyes from the gunhand. The caress is noted, however, his expression softening in response to the touch of her hand. He says, finally, "Really not sure 'bout all that. Throat's real sore. Broth would be good though." The eyes give their strongest gaze yet, actually holding a second or two before closing.

Delilah is sitting on a stool next to Torres' bed, holding a bowl of soup in her lap. There is a tray over on the counter with some peanut butter crackers and a glass of water. Delilah nods and moves her hand back from where she'd been touching Torres' hairline, and fills the spoon with only broth for now. "Well, iffn' ya can, you should probably sit up while I feed ya," she offers. "I'll put some extra pillows behind yer back ta support ya, okay?"

Torres' frowning eyes open, seeming to ponder that task. "Alright," he replies before slowly lifting his back off the bed with the aid of propped elbows, waiting for Delilah to provide pillows to lean against.

Nodding, Delilah quickly sets the bowl back onto the tray and flails around the various cabinets and cupboards for a few moments before finally finding where the extra bedlinens and pillows are kept. She pulls out two and brings them over, tucking them behind him in an effort to ease his muscles. "Is that better?" she asks, her voice full of concern. She reaches for the bown once more and settles back into the stool. "You ready to try some now?"

Torres collapses on the pillows, nodding slowly. "I'm good," he replies on both counts. "Thanks." Actually trying to see Delilah now and take in his surroundings, Torres says, "I can take the bowl an' just sip it."

Ashlyn wanders into the medbay. She's moving rather slowly and has that pink and white complexion of someone suffering or recently having suffered from a fever. She pauses momentarily when she sees people, but wordlessly oozes around the scene to find a bottle of asperin. Goal acomplished, she lets herself slide to the floor with her back against the cabinets, unwilling to navigate the childproofing while trying to stand.

Delilah nods and holds out the bowl to him, keeping the spoon. "Jus' keep in mind, there's solid stuff in there, so be careful," she cautions, before shutting up entirely when a half dead looking Ashlyn makes her way into the room. "Ash?" she asks in a worried tone. "Are ya alright?" Standing up to move over by the Captain, she holds her hand out for the bottle of aspirin. "I can open that, iffn' ya want. Got some soup an' stuff in the kitchen, ya want me ta get ya a bowl? Maybe lay down on the couch out there instead'a hangin' out here on the cold floor?"

Torres takes the bowl, nodding to Delilah after her warning. He sips a few times, and his reaction is one of dazedly surprised approval. Grunting to himself, he says, "Forgot how good a cook ya are, Del." Watching Ashlyn trudge in, then make a seat of the floor, he sips once more before saying to the captain, "Try the broth, it's good."

As Delilah steps closer to her, she may note that 'cold' might be exactly what the captain needs right now. Ashlyn has a fever that one can actually feel rolling off her skin if they come close enough. After a moment of trying to get the lid off the bottle of fever-reducing painkillers, she holds it out to Delilah. "Dunno why we got child safety caps..." she pants. "Ain't ever been... no kids on the Theory..." She waves away the offer of food, looking slightly more pale at the notion. "Nah... not... not hungry... Torres? You okay..?"

Delilah looks a bit closer at Ashlyn, realizing that she does indeed /still/ have a fever. "Ash!" she cries, throwing the pills onto the counter and moving to try and slip her hands under Ashlyn's arms. "What do you think yer doin', out of bed with a fever?" Eyeing the empty bed next to Torres, she sighs. "I don't even think I can get ya into that by myself," she grumbles. "Can ya get yerself in the bed iffn' I help ya up? Or back to yer room iffn' I walk with ya?"

Torres shrugs weakly at Ashlyn after another small sip. "Musta got what you got. Not nauseous no more, leastways." He watches the two of them, then starts to place the bowl of sup on the side table, saying, "Maybe, I can help Ashlyn up."

Ashlyn gives Delilah a curious look, but her eyes belarily follow the bottle with a kind of helpless longing. "Quit fussin'..." she murmurs to both of them. "Sick a lyin' down... Took me ferever ta... ta get Bishop out ta go out fer tea sos I could walk a little..." She's sitting on the floor with her back against the cabinets, Delilah standing over her, and Torres looking about assick as herself in one of the medbeds. "Just came fer those," she nods up to the asperin. "Fever an' I hurt all o'er..."

Delilah gives Torres an amazed look when he offers to help, and replies, "Darlin', I think ya oughtta stay right where ya are. Talon's...somewhere...on this boat an' iffn' I need help so badly, I can call him an' not ask you ta drag yer sick hide up for somethin' so small." She looks back to Ashlyn and sighs. "Well, iffn' yer wantin' ta go back to yer bed, that's fine. Or iffn' yer wantin' me ta walk 'round with ya fer a bit, that's fine too. I'll get ya some pills an' ya can wash 'em down with a bit of soup an' anythin' else ya want. But I ain't lettin' ya walk 'round by yerself an' I ain't lettin' ya sit right here on this floor, so we better come up with a compromise right quick."

Torres puts on a show of minor complaint for their benefit, but it's only a show as the gunhand doesn't take too much time bringing that bowl of soup back in his hands to have another sip.

Ashlyn continues watching the asperin bottle blearily, obvioulsy prioritising that at the top of her list. "You ain't Bishop so I'll have none a yer fussin' o'er me..." she says. "Too hot right now... fer anythin' hot... anyhows..." she mumbles coherently. "Maybe when I get cold again... I just gotta break this fever..." Her head rolls back against the cabinet and she continues looking up at the bottle of asperin with one eye as the other is forced closed by her cheek squishing into the cabinet. "Be back where Bish left me `for he gets back, Del... I promise... Just gotta move around or I won't feel any better... Heard him coughing last night..."

Suddenly, Torres realizes that, well, he's done. the fatigue that suddenly hits him is palpable to his weakened system, and without further ado, the gunhand shakily places the bowl back on the side table, then sinks into the bed with a sigh. Sleep comes upon Torres quickly, and his last muttered words are, "Ahh, that hit the spot, Del. Sorry, I been so mean ..." And like that, he's asleep.

Delilah's mouth opens and then shuts audibly when Torres apologizes to her and then zonks out. Giving up on moving Ashlyn, she reaches back to grab the bottle and pops the lid open easily, dispensing two pills into her hand and shutting the bottle again. "Hush, you," she tells Ash lovingly. "Yer my best friend an' yer my Captain, an' yer Ash. So iffn' I wanna fuss over you there ain't nothin' ya can stay what's gonna stop me." Grinning now, she hands Ashlyn the pills and the glass of water Torres never touched. "Go ahead an' take those, an' maybe we'll take a stroll into the kitchen. Iffn' ya feel okay after that, I'm gonna have you sit down with just a bit of soup an' try ta eat it, an' then I'll take ya back to you an' Bish's room, alright?"

Ashlyn watches Torres with a bleary curiosity as he passes out. "'Mean'?" she asks, turning back to Delilah. But she's distracted by finally getting the contents of the bottle she's until now been watching hopelessly. Pills properly dealt with, she looks back up at Delilah. "Hate it when people make a big deal o'er me..." she clarifies. "I only let BIshop do it... `cause I can't stop from worryin' o'er him... But if I can't stop you from fussin'... you can't stop me from stoppin' you from... tellin' you ta stop tellin' me..." she pauses to try and sort out her thoughts. "Don't fuss." Her head lolls back again. "Gotta get better... Heard Bisho coughin' last... Did I already say that..?"

Delilah nods at Ash kindly and puts her hands under Ash's arms again in an attempt to raise her up, if the other woman cooperates. "Don't fuss," she repeats. "I won't fuss, then. We'll go to the kitchen an' have some soup, an' then we'll head back to yer room, an' I won't fuss the whole time, so long as you stick with me." Delilah logic presiding, she lifts up on the Captain's arms. "Come on, now, to the kitchen so's ya can walk a bit like ya want."

Ashlyn clearly identifies this as loosely disguised fussing, but cooperates having not the energy to argue, letting Delilah hoist her up. Delilah might notice that Ashlyn's skin is rather sweaty from her extended fever, and heat continues to roll off of her in waves. "No soup..." she manages. "I'm too hot... If yer gonna make me eat... I'm..." And no sooner has she regained her feet then the fever takes a swing in the other direction and Ashlyn wraps her arms around herself shuddering. "F-f-freezing!"

Delilah wraps her arms around Ash as well quickly, and snags a blanket from the linen cupboard after the hug is over. Throwing the blanket around Ashlyn, she begins to guide the girl into the other room. "Well, iffn' yer freezin', I'll bet some soup sounds 'bout right good now," she explains with more Delilah logic, desperate to get some food down Ash's throat before the fever swings again. "An' maybe a hot shower, huh? That sound good? Let's do those things real quick an' then we'll get ya back ta Bishop. Maybe we'll fuss a bit over him too, yeah? Take him some soup, an' you can make 'em take a shower?"

"You c-c-can't worry o'er Bishop..." Ashlyn stammers. "S'my job..!" She lets Delilah shuffle her toward the commons, too tired to put up more of a fight. She moves stiffly and slowly, looking as if she's in rather a large amount of pain. "An' I don't got time ta eat... I ain't too hungry anyhow... If Bishop catches me up an' about..." Up and about what? It's not like Bishop would do anything but carry her back to bed, but one worries about the oppinions of people the center of their universe.

TRAVEL

You are entering Chaos Theory - Captain's Quarters.
Chaos Theory - Captain's Quarters =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
=============================================================================
The room at the bottom of the ladder is large in comparison to the others in the ship, though not overly huge. There's a double bed draped with a new-looking quilt made of a patchwork of colorful fabric with two folded knit blankets in orange and blue at it's foot. Small tables to either side of the bed sport a variety of knicknacks. The one that Ashlyn very obviously has laid claim to hold a photo of her family back on Hera, a picture of Bishop making a goofy face at the camera and signed, 'In case you forget how goofy I look,' and a colorful stack of small plastic boxes. The other table holds a dusty, unopened bottle of scotch, a pile of magazines, and a PDA.
A desk dominates one side of the room, made up of both a large work surface and a computer terminal. A rather goofy looking lawn gnome sits beside the computer. A large plastic tube full of sheets of paper and canvas leans up against one side of the desk, propped there by a toolbox packed full of tools that seem to have come from many different sets. A washbasin is built into the wall nearby.
Built into the wall opposite the desk is a bookshelf and drawers. The shelves are absolutely packed with things: boxes, blocks of wood, paperback fiction, flight manuals, law books, and all manner of hand-made painted toys, and candles of various shapes and sizes are scattered throughout.
=============================================================================

Delilah bites the sides of her cheeks to stave off a grin and moves Ashlyn towards her bunk, having decided that perhaps laying down would make her more receptive to soup. Directing her over to the bed, Delilah tries to ease Ashlyn into it, waiting until she's settled before mumbling, "I'll be right back!" and heading out for the ktichen.

Ashlyn remains in bed long enough to realise that her clothes are by now soaked with a feverish sweat. "Gorramit," she mumbles into her pillow. Del will no doubt return to find her changing back into her pajamas, shivering violently the whole while.

Delilah returns from the kitchen victorious with a bowl full of soup, though it looks to be more broth than soup. "Ash!" she exclaims when she finds the other girl out of bed and changing. "This is just silly, Ash. Let me help ya. Coulda jus' told me afore I left that you were needin' ta get changed, I was plannin' on doin' that after ya ate!"

"Y-y-you was gonna change my clothes?" Ashlyn asks with an incredulous arch of her eyebrow. "Now w-w-who says I was gonna let ya?" She finishes peeling her pajama shirt on, her back to Delilah, before flopping back down into the bed. "There's a powerful short list a people who g-g-get ta see me naked," she says, her voice muffled as she burrows under the covers and oozes into her spot on the bed.

Delilah giggles and sits on the side of the bed with the bowl of soup. "Ash, yer sick, an' trust me, it's an even shorter list of poeple who get ta see me nekkid." She eyes the picture of Bishop over on the side table and sighs. "Are ya ready fer some soup? I can prop ya up like I did Torres?"

Ashlyn peers out from beneith the covers at the bowl of soup, possibly weighing her chances of staving off this fussing. "Can sit up m-m-myself," she stammers, though it takes a moment to drag herselt up into a sitting position, and she doesn't look like she had a terribly easy time of it. There is of course a huge to do about aranging the blankets to hold the warmth in before she holds her hand out for the soup. "Thanks, Delilah, r-r-really," she says with a smile.

Delilah laughs. "Is that a 'thanks Delilah, now go away' kinda statement?" She hands the bowl to Ashlyn, though she eyes her, not very confident that she can feed herself. "Sure you don't want me to feed you? Or get ya some crackers? I'll put peanut butter on them, it's real good..."

Ashlyn laughs softly as she takes the bowl. "You think I have any hope a runnin' you off..?" she chuckles softly. She handles the bowl as if it's far heavier than it really is, though she's not dropping it, and the shivering doesn't seem to greatly endanger the contents. "This is more than enough. I r-r-really ain't hungry you know..." She takes a sip of the soup. "But I c-c-can't promis I ain't gonna fall asleep again..."

"Nah, I don't think ya can run me off," Delilah laughs. "That's what best friends is, didn't ya know?" She watches Ash eat with a worried look, but she doesn't move to take the bowl away. "So, I was thinkin' of havin' yer weddin' at that big church on 'Seph," she mentions conversationally. "It'll fit a few hundred people in there, don't worry. An' we can have the horse driven carriages parked outside durin' the ceremony. 'Course, they'll only keep 'em there fer three hours, so we might have ta pay extra iffn' the ceremony runs longer than that."

Ashlyn chuckles a little, looking tired. "That s-s-sounds fine... `Cept fer the horses..." she mumbles. "`Magine that'd be a kind a a spectical..." Aperently desciding that the bowl is painfully heavy, she sets it carefully to one side and looks like she's trying to get comfortable in a way that she can still reach it where it is on the table. "But ya know... we ain't religious... maybe somethin' more open... beach or somethin'..." Mid turn, fatige seems to get the better of her and she sinks down into the bed, the rythm of her breath quickly changing to that of sleep.

Delilah watches Ashlyn fall to sleep, moving to retrieve the bowl once she's out. "Silly Ash," she murmurs. "I know ya don't like all that stuff, I was jus' teasin'. Sleep well, yeah? I'll take care'a Bishop iffn' he comes back to the ship sick, too." And with that she sneaks out, looking behind her as she goes to be sure not to wake Ash up.

Torres and Ash in the Gardens

2008-02-05T15:03:07Z

You are entering Persephone Gardens - Persephone.
Persephone Gardens - Persephone =>Persephone<=
==============================================================================
Placed within 12 acres of gated land, the Persephone Gardens, located just to the east of the higher class Residential District, can be described as a manicured land with a look of Earth-that-was. Mounds of bushes, flowers, and large stands of trees can be found everywhere you look. Coursing through the area is a pathway that leads to the farthest end of the garden and back again.

Tucked away in a quiet corner of the gardens is a tea house. The shingled roof rises up into a peak and there is a short set of stairs leading up to a balcony running along the front of the house. The door inside is a sliding screen, painted with a delicate floral design of nightshade spiraling upward.
==============================================================================

Torres takes a deep breath, then sighs exaggeratedly. "Yeah, I guess we are at that." His demeanor takes on a more serious tone then, and he pauses. "I think I may've hurt Del's feelin' some."

Ashlyn is lying in the grass, just visible from the paths by the brightness of her clothing, arms folded behind her head, eyes closed and facing the sun. More visible is Torres, who's sitting beside her in the grass. "You, too?" she asks Torres softly, a sigh in her voice. "Seems as I just can't say the right thing, no matter what it is."

Delilah comes walking along the path, a leash in her hand as she is dragged by what appears to be a young puppy of mixed breed. "No, Bear, no!" she calls, giggling, though her chiding seems in vain. The puppy is eager to sniff at and pee on everything in sight...inculding Ashlyn, apparently, as he heads over to sniff her and then lifts his leg. "Bear, NO!" she gets out, appalled, before she sees who it is. "W-what are you guys doing here?"

Torres shakes his head in response to Ashlyn's comment, saying, "Yeah, I don't know why I-" his stop's in surprise when he realizes what lil' doggy is about to do. "Whoa there, fella!" Torres lifts the critter quickly, depositing the pup a foot away even as a small stream begins to trickle.

Ashlyn is used to dogs, and reaches up to tip the puppy over as soon as the balance of one of his legs is compromised, cracking one eye open so she doesn't miss her mark. But the dog's already being handled, so her hand paws slightly at the empty air before almost sleepily drifting back behind her head. "Bear?" she asks, raising curious eyes to try and find Delilah.

"Sorry," Delilah says sheepishly, stumbling forward to keep her hold on the leash when Torres moves him. "He ain't mine," she reassures Ash, moving to sit down next to her Captain. "Went by a pet shop to see the puppies. I was thinkin' 'bout gettin' one fer Talon, as I...well." She doesn't say, 'as a trial run', but then, she likely doesn't have to. "Anyway, the guy there said I could take 'em for some fresh air, but he jus' won't stop peein' on everythin'." She sighs and reaches out to pet the tiny dog between it's ears, leaning back onto the grass to flop her head onto Ashlyn's stomach, if she's allowed. "Kinda nice today," she mumbles.

Torres falls silent then, content to observe the dynamics between Del and Ash. Hell, maybe he'll learn something? For now, it's the blade of grass in his mouth, and maybe a pet or two for the pup.

"Whoof," Ashlyn gasps as air is forced up out of her body by the sudden flop onto her. "Where's Talon live anyhow?" she says as she manages to pull some air back into her lungs. "I mean, I got the impression he don't live any one place, an' it's a might hard ta raise a puppy that way."

"He don't live anywhere," she explains, cozying up to Ashlyn's ribs in that cuddly way good friends have of maintaining physical contact without it being creepy or sexual. "Jus' bounces from place ta place. Although he's been stayin' on the Theory fer now, I guess jus' ta be with me. Ain't had the talk yet of what happens when he has to leave, an' I don't know what he has planned. He tweaks out a bit whenever we talk 'bout serious stuff, an' I don't want him ta run off again, so I try not ta bring it up." She sighs and reaches over to let the puppy lick her fingers. "But I guess I figured, iffn' he could handle a puppy livin' like that..."

Torres glances from Del to Ash to the targets over a ways, his brows arching slightly. He tosses the chewed on blade of grass away and looks for a new one.

"Urk." Ashlyn may not have a problem with the physical closeness, but the fact remains that she's a tiny person and all this shifting is making it awful hard to keep air in her lungs. "Well, he's got place enough on the Theory if he wants it and he's either willin' ta work fer it or pay rent. An' Matty clears it too, a course. But dogs don't do too well on board. `Member those two beagles, Misha an' Moose?" she asks a little breathlessly as the snuggling moves up to her ribcage and compresses her lungs. "Those was Matty an' Suji's dogs. They was miserable on the ship, so one day when we passed by Hera we dropped `em on my folks."

"I don't even know if he'd want ta stay," Delilah moans. "I don't even know if he wants a dog. I jus' don't know what he wants at all. An' I'm afraid ta ask him. But iffn' yer wantin' him ta pay rent or work, I'll let him know. I don't he was plannin' on stayin' this long, elsewise he woulda offered afore." Noticing Ash's funny noises, she shifts her head so it's in a better spot for breathing. "What are y'all doin' out here, anyway?"

"The captain's gettin' itchy," offers Torres finally to Delilah, a new blade of grass found. "I'm findin' this place sorta takes ta me. Inna pleasant sorta way." He grins at Ashlyn.

"Thinkin' `bout movin' us again," Ashlyn says with a breathy exhilation as her lungs spring back into place, nodding in agreement with Torres's statement. "As long as we're claimin' a home port, Persephone's a fine place. Just can't stay here ferever," she ammends. "An' all I was really tryin' ta say is tired an' true dogs ain't happy on the ship. Not like the cat is. An' then also, y'know we got a cat, mortla enemy a the dog, an' Sproket's got a lot a fight in her." She shifts to ball her hands under her head so she can actually see Delilah. "An' might as well say now that yer here what I was tryin' ta say yesterday. I don't got nothin' `gainst kids on the Theory. Just as long as there's still /room/. I just... I wouldn't have /my/ kids on the Theory."

Delilah sighs. "I jus' thought y'all didn't want any there. It's what was always said ever since I signed on, that kids weren't welcome. An' I love you guys, I really do, no matter what Matty says. But I want kids. I want LOTS of kids. An' I don't wanna hafta choose between havin' kids an' livin' with my family, ya know?" She gets quiet for a while, picking a blade of grass to tickle the puppy's nose with. "Don't really matter nohow anyway, leastways not right now. I don't think I'm gettin' married any time soon."

It takes Torres a moment to warm up to the topic at hand, his eyes following a couple as they stroll leisurely along. "I don't think a ship's a good place ta be raisin' kids neither," he says. "Just don't seem proper somehow." His mouth continues to play with the blade of grass.

"Look I don't got no problem with `em," Ashlyn says to Delilah, shrugging slightly and nodding in agreement with Torres. "Well. Not /our/ ship. Like I was tellin' Athene, it really ain't safe. I can't guarantee that life support'll never fail, or that pirates'll never board us on a cargo run, or that reavers ain't never gonna get on the ship. That's why /I/ ain't gonna keep kids on my ship if I ever have `em. If the risk is okay with you, that's yer own choice. Matty may have her own opinions on it, but if it has ta come down ta it, my vote's the standin' order." She lets her hands relax and her head drops back into the grass. "An' so ya know, we ain't got room fer six."

Delilah nods at everything Ashlyn says, and gigglesnorts when she says there isn't room for six children. "Oh, Ash," she laughs, rolling off the other girl's stomach to rest her elbows on the grass. "I ain't gonna have six on the Theory. I love bein' there with y'all, but I ain't like ta find a man who wants to live there with me and everythin', not forever. Whoever I marry, I'm sure we'll get a house of some kind, ya know? So don't worry 'bout six of me runnin' around." She gets quiet for a moment, leaning towards the puppy and letting it lick her nose. "I know it ain't exactly safe," she explains slowly, as though explaining it to herself. "But my Ma an' Pa thought it would be safe fer me on Lilac, an' it weren't. Those folk on Miranda thought they'd be safe there, an' they weren't. Ain't nobody safe nowhere, not completely. An' I ain't gonna leave the people I love or not have what I want more'n anythin' jus' cuz a bunch of maybes."

"Then, go with 'probablies', Del," Torres says to Delilah, eyes on her red hair briefly. "You're probably safer on a planet than you are in a ship especially takin' into consideration just how wrong thing can go when all's ya got is a sheet a metal 'tween you an' the Black."
Ashlyn points to the puppy. "An' I do gotta put my foot down on one thing," she ads. "No puppy. Not unless ya already made yer peace with droppin' him at the ranch when he gets all miserable an' bored livin' on the ship."
OOC Announcement: Book shouts, "I just cleaned out independents of everyone I think is already hired. Poke me if I futzed."

Delilah nods at Torres with a serious expression. "I'll think 'bout that, Miya," she muses. "An' a course I'll hafta talk to whoever I end with 'bout it, too." She laughs and picks the puppy up, raising it above her head for a kiss. "Naw, I ain't gonna fight ya on that," she snickers. "He's cute, but I don't think Talon wants somethin' that pees every 10 seconds in his bunk."

Matty Got Shot - IC Time: Jan 22, 2522 - 16:21:46

2008-01-24T16:28:59Z

Chaos Theory - Cargo Bay =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
=======================================================================
Large enough to fit a few shuttles inside, the cargo bay holds a tidy array of cargo containers and other boxes. A large cargo crane is off to one side, and suspended from the high ceiling, the standard stowing place on a Firefly class, is a M.U.L.E. used for loading and unloading the cargo and transporting it to the correct location. A desk has been built into the wall, and is usually stowed in its folded position, fitting nicely right into the wall to save space. A set of stairs leads up and to the upper catwalk, which further extends into hallways and rooms toward the ship's stern. The room is in general bland, and seems a rather cold place to be.
The back corner of the bay, in the otherwise somewhat useless area behind the stairs to the catwalks, is a fairly respectable workout area. A large punching bag hangs from the catwalks above, putting it right beside a set of mats which are likely fastened to the deck. On the back wall there's a set of dumbells, and across from that, a smallish bench.
=======================================================================

Matty comes running up the ramp, gun in one hand and her hat hanging down her back from its cord, stumbling at the top and tripping over her feet and falling down flat on the deck. She gets back to her feet to move over to a control panel, then slaps the button to close the ramp before she sinks back to the deck. "Gorramit.."

Ashlyn stands up from where she's sitting on the bench by the weights. Rather than actually working out with them, she seems to have been contemplating them more than anything else. "Matty?" she asks, taking a few hurried steps toward the hatch, her hand moving to her holstered gun and her eyes moving to the closing hatch.

Delilah appears at the top of the catwalks, two mugs of some hot steaming liquid in her hands. She's missed Matty's faceplant, but gasps when she catches sight of the XO on the floor. "Matty? Matty, ya alright?"
"Oh hey," Matty says and flashes a grin over toward Ashlyn as she pulls on the cord to get her hat back on her head. Not so much to wear it, but more to disguise the starting bruise to her left eye with the shadow cast by the brim of the hat. She seems to remember that her gun is still in her hand and holsters that before she gets to her feet a little shakily. She looks up at the appearance of Delilah and gives a nod, brushing dust off herself. "Yeah, 'm fine."

Ashlyn tests her Spot against a 45 difficulty. The result is successful (9).

"You get punched in the face?" Ashlyn asks, as usual rather bluntly. Her eyes move back to the hatch and whoever may be beyond it. "Yer half way ta a shiner." She continues walking toward the XO, but her hand falls away from her gun as Matty reholsters her firearm.

"Ya got /punched/?!" Delilah squeaks, rushing down the stairs, sending the hot liquid everywhere but on her skin, it seems. "Who punched ya? Why would they - " She takes in a deep breath when she gets to the bottom and sets the mugs quickly on the last stair, whirling around to plant her hands on her hips in a mock-stern stance. "Who did ya say somethin' mean ta?"

Matty raises her hand to touch the flesh around her eye and flinches a little at the touch. "Oh.. Yeah, I guess so. Had a bit o' a disagreement with someone," she says and gives a glance toward the hatch, tilting her head a bit as if to listen for the outside. Nothing there to hear, though. No banging on the hatch or shooting of weapons. She turns toward Delilah as the cook rushes down the stairs and her eyes widen a bit at the speed with which she goes. "Watch it, Del! Yer gonna get yerself hurt again!" She heads over to the bulkhead, moving carefully and then leans on the wall rather casually. "I didn't say nothin' mean to no one. Jus'.. Disagreed 'bout somethin's all."

Ashlyn turns to watch Delilah's messy clatter down the stairs, chuckling almost inadvertently at her immediate assumption that Matty was the insigator. "Anyone we know?" Ashlyn asks Matty. "Weren't Mira again was it?" Her face darkens slightly with the mention of the name.

Delilah sighs when Matty chides her and she lifts up the bottom of her sweater, revealing her smooth stomach - smooth but for a visible/yet healed scar. "It's been over a month, Matty," she reassures. "I'm fine. What did ya disagree 'bout, an' who'd ya disagree 'bout it with? Should I get ya an ice pack? I think I got some froxen veggies up there somewhere..."

Matty shifts slightly against the wall, moving her hand to rub against her ribs, which doesn't really do much good as there's a thick layer of flak jacket between her hand and her rib cage. "Nah. Weren't Mira," she says and gives another glance toward the hatch, though there's still no noise coming from that direction. Then she looks back over at Delilah and gives a nod to where she'd left the mugs. "Yeah, 'n ya were 'bout ta land yerself in medbay again with burnt hands? Ya might 's well move in there, I reckon." And still, she doesn't say anything about who she had this 'disagreement' with.

Ashlyn tests her Spot against a 60 difficulty. The result is unsuccessful (-11).

Ashlyn turns and makes her way back to the stairwell, selecting a spot free of spilled liquid to sit down at. "So who /did/ ya fight with?" she asks as she settles into place, elbows dropping to rest on her knees as she leans forward.

You test your Spot against a 60 difficulty. The result is unsuccessful (-12).

Delilah sinks down next to Ashlyn, sitting in much the same pose, only she grabs the mugs and wordlessly hands Ashlyn one. It looks to be hot chocolate, with marshmellows melted on top. "Yeah, Matty," she chimes in, "Ya can't 'spect us not ta ask."

Matty pushes off the wall and heads on over to a nearby crate (those damned ubiquitous crates!) to sit down, still rubbing at that particular spot on her ribs. Catching herself in doing something useless, she drops her hand to her knee and gives a shrug at the other two, letting out a sigh. "I dunno.. Some bloke in the alley off Sally's," she finally admits and lifts her hand to her eye again, wincing as she touches. "I think an icepack might be a good idea."

You test your Spot against a 40 difficulty. The result is successful (8).

Ashlyn tests her Spot against a 40 difficulty. The result is successful (20).

Ashlyn takes the mug and nods thanks to Delilah, taking a sip. As Matty's hand moves away from her shirt, her eyes narrow. "He try ta shoot ya?" she asks. "What were ya disagreein' `bout?"

Delilah's eyes narrow at Matty's torso, and she gasps loudly. Slapping the mug down again, spilling more hot liquid, she begins dashing up the stairs in the direction of either the med bay or the galley.

Matty lifts her shoulders in a casual kind of shrug, but the wince on her face proves that it's something she immediately regrets. "We was jus' disagreein' o'er the price o' somethin'..." she says and watches as Delilah runs off up the stairs. "I'M ALRIGHT!" she shouts after the woman and gives a look over toward Ashlyn with a tiny smile. "I was tryin' to buy some information 'bout Harrison."

"An' he punched ya in the face an' shot ya?" Ashlyn asks incredulously, not bothering to stop Delilah, who she deems already too far away to interfere with now anyhow. "What exactly did happen? An' did ya find anythin' out?" There's no evident blood, and Matty doesn't seem to be greviously injured, so panic mode does not engage for Ashlyn.

Delilah emerges at the top of the stairs again, rushing down them like a blur and losing gauze pads as she goes. Flailing madly in Matty's direction, she dumps the ice packs and pill bottles and what gauze is left down on the floor, and begins to attempt to force Matty to undress. "Stand still!" she cries, clearly panicked. "I have ta fix ya! Where is Deco?" Delilah flails once more, turning around in an entire circle before her eyes rest on Ashlyn. "Ash!" she cries, as though she's just now seen her. "Call Deco on the iComm! Matty's hurt!"

"Well, I punched him too.." Matty says with a crooked smile and an oddly satisfied look in her eyes. "But we was still at Sally's then. He didn' have no information fer me, so I didn't wanna pay 'im. Guess he didn' much like that." She picks at the hole in her shirt, then lifts the hem of it to pick at the piece of metal lodged there. "Gonna hafta repair this thi---" She doesn't get any further as Delilah comes back and being all panicky. "Calm /down/, Del!" she yells, and reaches out to try and grab the cook's wrist. "I ain't hurt!"

Ashlyn stands up and reaches out to try and place her hands on Delilah's shoulders. "Ice an' heat's all that needs done if anythin'," she says calmly. "An' maybe a iron on patch." She turns to Matty. "Can't say as I've come up with anythin' yet, either," she says apologetically.

Delilah looks from the two women back down to Matty's hole. "She's not...hurt?" Blinking up at Matty, she repeats herself. "Yer not hurt? I don't understand. I...I mean, ya got shot!" She glances down at the supplies laying on the floor and back up. "I brought stuff?" she offers forlornly, at a loss as to how to handle this new realm of immortality.

Matty lifts her shirt to show the vest with the bullet lodged in it and nods slowly to Delilah. "I ain't hurt, Del. Bruised my ribs a little, sure, but I ain't hurt," she reaches out to touch the cook on the arm and smile. "Ya did good, Del." She gives a look around at the supplies and grins a little. "But next time.. Maybe ya wanna bring the first aid box? Bandages 'n such are better when they're sterile." She looks over at Ashlyn then and gives a grateful nod, though a hint of despair creeps into her eyes. "Maybe he jus' don't wanna be found..." she mutters hopefully.

"Maybe," Ashlyn agrees. "What's he look like?" she asks. "If he's apt ta come `round these parts, I mean." She turns and heads back to the stairs, retrieving her hot chocolate again and taking a sip.

"I don't even know where those are," Delilah mutters dejectedly. "That thing yer wearin', it kept ya from gettin' hurt? Is that what ya bought me? That thing that I never, ever wear?" Delilah might be a bit sullen that her help went unneeded, but she's still got her sense of humor intact. "What do ya do fer bruised ribs, then? Want my hot chocolate?"

"Harrison? 'bout my height with brown hair 'n blue eyes. Got a scar o'er his right eye," Matty tells Ashlyn, though most of her attention is on Delilah at the moment. She gives a nod and can't keep a glance from the cook's medsection. "Yeah. Keeps ya from getting badly hurt. 'n the first aid kits are stuck on the walls in the medbay and there's on in the commons too. Ya might've seen 'em? They got a big red cross on 'em?" She pulls off her t-shirt then, wincing with the move and then starts to take off the flak jacket. "Ain't much you can do fer bruised ribs, Del. Tape 'em up 'n take some painkillers. 'n sure.. Hot chocolate sounds great."

"No, I mean the guy what did that?" Ashlyn clarifies as she points to the bullet lodged in the jacket. "I got pictures a Herrison. Found `em when we was tryin' ta track down where everone was the first time." She takes another sip of her cocoa, wincing sympathetically. "Ain't cracked are they?" She pokes at her own ribs about where Matty's been shot.

Delilah nods and moves to the stairs to retrieve her mug. "I put marshmellows in it," she says apologetically. "An' ya probably don't much care for the extra sweetness, but there ya go." She stands there staring at Matty, probably waiting to watch the woman's reaction upon sipping the drink, but her eyes open up wide and she suddenly makes an 'o' face. "I fergot 'bout the cookies!" she howls, racing past Ashlyn up the stairs and into the galley.

"You got..." Matty starts, chocking a bit, though she pretends it's from touching her ribs now that the flak jacket is off. Still wearing a sports bra, she's not going entirely nude, though. "Ya got pictures o' Harrison? Would ya mind printing out a few fer me?" She takes the mug from Delilah and takes a sip, then smiles. "It's good, Del. Thank you." And then the cook is off again. She stares after her and shakes her head a bit, then sits back down on the crate. "He's short, fat and red-headed."

Ashlyn tests her Perception against a 50 difficulty. The result is successful (10).

"Shouldn't be too hard ta spot then," Ashlyn says, nodding. She gestures back over her shoulder toward her room. "I got them saved ta the ship's database. Them an' a couple other a people's. I can print `em out from my terminal no problem. But you can get ta them from the terminal in yer room, too. Or anywhere on the ship s'long as it's patched inta the network." She looks back toward the hatch and then back to Matty. "So who threw the first punch?"

Matty takes another sip from Delilah's chocolate and grimace a bit. "This really is sweet stuff.." she whispers, giving a glance up toward the galley, then back to Ashlyn with a grateful nod. "I'd 'preciate that. We had photos taken of us together, but.. I lost 'em all..." she says and draws in a breath, wincing as her ribs move. "I reckon I might've cracked one or two o' these." She gives a look at the stuff on the deck left behind by Delilah as if searching for a painkiller patch, but doesn't find any and looks back at Ashlyn with a crooked grin. "I don't ever throw the first punch, 'cept in sparrings 'n pit fights."

Ashlyn laughs a little at the last. "Well, he might a deserved it, ya never know." She settles back into the stains and takes another sip of the hot chocolate. "You think this is sweet? When I was little I used to put so many marshmallows into mine that once they all melted ya couldn't tell where the cocoa ended and the candy began. Like a big chocolate marshmallow." She grins. "Somehow feels like all that was a lifetime ago. Wasn't even two years back." She chuckles a little again and looks down into her cocoa.

Matty looks over toward Ashlyn and takes one more sip from the concoction then sets it down on the crate beside her. "Chocolate 'n cocoa 'n marshmallows weren't really easy to get by out on St. Albans..." she notes quietly, but sends a smile to Ashlyn as she picks up her damaged flak jacket. "You've grown a lot since joinin' us, Ash. I seen it happen." She gives a glance upward to the galley and lowers her voice a little. "Ya think Del 'll be a'right?"

Ashlyn sets her elbows back on the step behind her and takes a moment to think. "What? You mean like now, or in the long run?" she asks quietly, looking up over her shoulder toward the galley where Delilah is elbow deep in cookies.

"Long run.." Matty says and picks at the bit of metal in her flak jacket that is a compressed bullet. "I know she's doin' better what with Talon around, but I dunno if I trust 'im to stick around. He's done a runner more'n once, ya know?" She frowns at the flak jacket and looks at her fingers with their bitten down nails, then over to Ashlyn. "Ya got some tool that'll get this out?"

Ashlyn reaches into her pocket and pulls out a multi tool, the kind that folds out with somewhat cumbersome but moderatley useful tools of various kinds. She tosses it lightly towards her before answering. "Truth, I dunno. Space life may be fer her, but maybe not on this ship. She told be once she wants ta have at least six kids. I know plenty a people who grew up on a space ship. Bishop did. But they was all only children, and they wasn't on the Theory." She takes a sip of cocoa as she considers. "If she wants ta be okay, she'll be okay. But sometimes I ain't too sure she wants ta be okay."

Matty tests her Catch against a 40 difficulty. The result is unsuccessful (-21).

Matty isn't fast enough to catch the tool and it goes flying right by her. Turning around to try and catch it before it lands, she lets out a yelp at the pain in her ribs and winces as there's a clatter from the tool hitting the floor. "I hope that thing is impact resistant...?" she says and stands, leaning to one side to spare her ribs. She pauses at Ashlyn's comment about Delilah and her six kids, eyes widening a bit. "/Six/?!" She shakes her head and leans down to fetch up the tool, then sits back on the crate with a sigh. "This ship ain't no place fer kids. Hell, if I'm to be honest, it ain't no place fer someone like Del neither..."

A half-strangled sob can be heard, and if the women in the bay look up, they'll see Delilah standing at the top of the stairs, a gigantic plate of freshly baked cookies in her right hand and another mug in her left. Slowly making her way down the stairs, she sets the plate down on a crate and holds out the mug to Matty. She looks extremely hurt. "Here," she whispers to Matty, "I got ya coffee cuz I knew ya wouldn't want the other stuff. I'll go now." And with that, she turns around and starts making her way up the stairs once more.

"Weren't no place fer someone like me, neither, once upon a time," Ashlyn says, nodding in agreement that it'll be pretty hard to cause damage to the multitool. "Nineteen year old kid right off that farm. Back then we still had problems with pirates, ri-?" she cuts short as Delilah appears to take their conversation in very the wrong light. She sighs. "Delilah, don't go," she calls.

Open mouth, insert foot. At the sob, Matty looks up and sees Delilah there, mentally kicking herself as she watches the cook come down the stairs. "Del.. I didn't mean it like that," she says and stands, leaving behind flak jacket, tool, coffee and cookie to catch up with Delilah. "I jus' worry fer ya, that's all. I know ya think I don't want ya to grow or nothin', but that ain't so. I jus'.." She sighs and shakes her head, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. "I dunno how ta explain it."

"Why should I stay?" Dela asks sadly, though at least she's not bitter, which is an improvement from the last time she faced off with these two. She turns at the mid-stair level to look down at them with a pained expression. "You guys don't think I belong here. All I want ta do is get married an' have a family, an' iffn' I ever manage ta do that, I ain't gonna be welcome here anymore. There's jus' nothin' ta talk 'bout. You should eat yer cookies, I made 'em special fer ya. Oatmeal raisin is Ash's favorite, see." She hangs her head and continues up the stairs.

"Now, I'm a genuine fergivin' person, Del," Ashlyn says, irritation rising in her voice. She stays where she is reclining against the stairs. "But It gets under my skin when people put words in my mouth. Didn't neither a us say that. All that was implied was this ain't a place fer big families. You can look `round it an' see that. An' you yerself have talked `bout settlin' down off ship once you was ready ta have a family. So don't go takin' it out on us like that fer sayin' somethin' you already said."

Matty sighs and shakes her head at Delilah, turning away from the stair to go back to the crate to pick up her flak jacket and Ashlyn's tool. Coffee and cookies go untouched as she works to pry out the bullet. "Why /should/ you stay, Del? Good question. Seems you've found your man, so why don't ya jus' ask him ta marry ya 'n go off to make that family o' yers? Jus' ferget about the family ya made on this ship. We ain't all that nice anyways.." she says, her voice thick with sarcasm as she takes her anger out on the flak jacket by stabbing it with the tool. "Seem ta me ya don't much care t' stay no how." At the end of that sentence is a chink and a soft clatter as the bullet hits the deck and Matty starts folding up the multi-tool again, her eyes rising to look up at Delilah. "We can probably find another cook."

"I only said that cuz yer all talkin' 'bout how kids ain't welcome on this ship, Ash," Delilah replies before Matty begins speaking, conveniently. "I don't wanna go anywhere, I don't want - " And Matty starts, which causes Delilah's jaw to snap shut audibly. Her eyebrows raise higher and higher until she can take it no more. "Madison Radcliffe!" she announces, drawing herself up as best she can. "You are...mean! An' a very not nice person sometimes! An' you hurt my feelin's...a LOT. But I love ya! I love ya, an' I don't care how mean ya are to me, I'm always gonna love ya, an' yer jus' gonna hafta come ta terms with that!" Tears in her eyes (are they ever not), she finally stumbles up those last few stairs and disappears in the direction of her bunk.

"I don't got nothin' against k-" Ash manages to get out. Though there really isn't time to finish the statement before Delilah's ire turns on Matty. She falls back into the stairway and rubs her temple with her thumb, cringing at the exchange. Once Delilah is gone, she looks pointedly at Matty from under the arc of her hand as she presses a finger into either one of her temples as if warding off a headache. "Maybe that was a little harsh." She sounds neither angry nor repromanding. It's said with the same tone as someone discussing the color of the sky today. "An' I wouldn't kick her off. We just... wouldn't have the room..."

Chat with Torres - IC Time: Mar 07, 2522 - 12:54:56 (The timeshift has made this weird...)

2008-01-24T16:01:04Z

Chaos Theory - Commons =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
==============================================================================
The crew commons is a space large enough to hold a wooden table which seats eight people on various chairs of different designs. Along one wall is a large array of cupboards and drawers, presumably for food storage. On the opposite side of the room is a small galley area with a refrigerator, a few more cupboards and drawers, probably for dishes and silverware and the like. An obviously well-used coffee pot sits on the center counter, having been placed in the most convenient place in the whole room. Beside the galley area is a small circular lounge area, old sofas lining the walls and a small, round coffee table in the middle, still providing plenty of room to walk around. On the back wall, facing toward the dining area, hangs a large portrait, which those well-versed in this particular obscure back-corner of science might recognize as a Lorenz attractor. A round skylight window is built into the ceiling above this area, offering a nice view of the sky or space.
==============================================================================

Torres sits comfortably in a sofa in the lounge area of the Commons, reading a hard-bound book with interest. An empty mug is on the coffee table. He sniffs, then turns the page.

You test your Spot against a 45 difficulty. The result is successful (10).

Delilah comes hurrying into the Commons, looking very worried. She glances at Torres as she rushes by, flashing him a quick grin. "Ya like yer present?" she calls out while zooming over to the stove and throwing it open. Out comes two deep pans filled with what looks to be some sort of bread of some kind. Sighing in relief, she leans back against the counter and takes off the oven mitt she'd jammed onto her hand in haste. "Thought for sure they were gonna burn," she mumbles.

Torres looks up, and smiles. "Yes. Very interestin' book. Thank ya." He sniffs and adds, "Smells good."

"It's cranberry orange bread," she explains, beaming at Torres when he compliments the smell. She hesitates a moment, then adds sheepishly, "Well. Sorta. Ain't real cranberries, jus' cranberry flavor. An' the oranges weren't the freshest. An' there might be jus' a /titch/ a' protein in there. Ta make up fer other stuff. An' there's..." she trails off, blushing and stopping herself. "Figure I oughta stop tellin' ya what's all wrong with it an' jus' let ya taste it when it cools off, huh?" She moves over to the empty coffee pot and begins filling it up with water. "How are ya, Miya? Ain't talked ta ya inna while..."

"Always ready for testin' food. You rarely disappoint in that regard." Torres gazes at Delilah briefly, and shrugs then. "I'm doin' alright. Thanks fer askin'. How you doin'?"

Delilah peers at Torres when he brushes off her inquiry, and crosses the room to sit down near him. "No, really, Miya," she insists. "I want ta know how ya are, what's goin' on in yer life an' everything. Ain't much ta tell with me anyways. Things are fragile with Talon, I feel like I'm gonna say the wrong thing an' he'll run away again. But when he's not makin' me afraid a' doin' the wrong thing, it's nice."

The book forgotten for now, Torres stares at Delilah with a tinge of suspicion evident. He purses his lips, and grins then. "Well, I'm not the type for givin' advice on relationships, but I do know Talon's a good man."

Delilah glares at Torres in a joking manner and pokes him in the arm with a finger. "Hey, now," she chides, her eyes bright. "Don't go changin' the subject on me jus' cuz ya think ya can distract me with talkin' 'bout Talon. I wanna hear 'bout things with you!" She leans back and crosses her arms, giving the half-full brewing coffee pot a quick glance before getting back to Torres. It doesn't look like she's going anywhere anytime soon.

Torres gives Delilah a faintly reproachful look, and sighs, shaking his head. Closing the book, he asks, "What exactly you wanna know? I'm ... alright."

Delilah grins victorious and leans forward, pulling his empty coffee mug towards her. "I wanna know the stuff I said. 'Bout yer life. 'Fore ya came here an' after. An' I ain't sure I ever got 'round ta askin' ya if ya have any allergies, or maybe I did an' I jus' fergot. But whatever. Where'd ya come from, where'd ya grow up, what were yer parents like, everythin'!" She giggles excitedly and gets up while she waits for his response, to grab another mug for herself and get out the cream and sugar. "How'd ya want yer coffee, anyway?"

Torres frowns at Delilah as she gets up, drawing a deep breath before placing the book on the table. Leaning back into the sofa, Torres folds his arms across his chest. "Black." Pause. "I'm from Santo. Parents are dead. Was a sheriff on Whitefall last, now I'm here. Anythin' else?"

Rolling her eyes slightly, she dunks a substantial amount of sugar and cream into her coffee mug, and grabs the now full coffee pot to fill the mugs up with. "Yes," she replies stubbornly. "Any brothers or sisters? What happened to yer parents? How'd ya get ta Whitefall ta be a Sheriff? Why'd ya leave? Didya have a girlfriend? What were ya in the War?" She pauses in her line of questioning to breathe while she pours the coffee. Making her way back to the table with the mugs, she winks and asks, "An' d'ya like cats or dogs better?"

Torres' discomfort is apparent as he scratches his cheek irritably. The frown deepens with his frustration, the questions too fast for Torres' tastes. He hesitates a moment once Delilah finishes. "Look, you really wanna know me? Then, let's talk about all the people I done killed. There's been a lot a 'em."

Delilah thunks the mugs down hard at his words, spilling a little onto the table in her shock. She sits down quickly in her seat and blinks at him for a few moments before murmuring quietly, "Fine. Let's talk 'bout them. Cuz I wanna know ya. So iffn' that's such a 'portant part a' yer past, then tell me." She arches an eyebrow and leans back, giving him a look which seems to say, 'you're not going to scare me away.'

Torres glances at his mug, unconcerned with the spill. His look slides to Delilah, and he can only sigh in resignation. "Alright, you wanna know me, then here goes." He swallows hard. "I killed my first man early on in the war. Snuck up behind him and slit his throat from ear to ear. I remember it was rainy that night, and it surprised me just how much blood a man could spill all at once. Also found out I was able to put my mind somewhere else when I killed all up close an' such. Ended up bein' the unit's assassin, in a manner a speakin'." He pauses, glancing at Delilah. "Wanna hear more?"

When Torres gets to the specific details, Delilah closes her eyes tight. Her hands grip the coffee mug till her knuckles are white, but she doesn't move. And when Torres asks if she wants to hear more, she nods silently, though her lips are moving, forming silent words.

The frown on Torres' face is now one of concern. "No," he says, shaking his head. "We should stop. This serves no good purpose." Pause. "Look, Del, you're what's good an' all 'bout the 'Verse, I'm a lot 'bout what's ruttin' rottin' 'bout it. I like ta think I do what I do in hopes of a better 'Verse, but I got no illusions a where'n I fit in that scheme. Let's just let it lay, huh?"

"Ya think I don't know that?" Delilah asks sadly, her eyes popping open. "Ya think I don't think 'bout what Talon's done, an' still does, an' has ta do? But I care fer 'im anyways. An' iffn

"Ya think I don't know that?" Delilah asks sadly, her eyes popping open. "Ya think I don't think 'bout what Talon's done, an' still does, an' has ta do? But I care fer 'im anyways. An' iffn' he told me I had ta listen ta every bad thing he ever done in order ta know 'im, I'd sit right there till he was done. An' same goes fer you. Iffn' I hafta sit here an' listen ta all kindsa stuff like that in order ta get ya ta tell me 'bout the rest of yer life, then that's what I'll do." She looks back down at the coffee mugs and mumbles softly, "Please drink yer coffee afore it gets cold."

"Don't mean," Torres replies, "ya got ta know every sick detail." He expels a breath, reaching for the mug like an afterthought. "And I won't, Del, so don't ask me too." Torres has a sip, and says then, "I was an only child."

Delilah looks up at him hopefully when he mentions being an only child, and it's as though the first part of this conversation never happened. "What 'bout yer parents? Were they in the War, too?" She starts to speak more, but clamps her mouth shut and busies herself with her mug of coffee-like sweetness, to stop from asking too many questions at once.

If Torres is warming up to this, he's taking great pains not to show it. A pause follows Delilah's next query. "No, they didn't figure in the war. Both spent it on Santo, just tryin' ta make do, is all. My Dad managed a casino. My mom worked at a bookstore. They were divorced by then." He has another sip of coffee.

"They were divorced?" Delilah asks, her brows knitting in worry. "Was it...I mean, was it hard on ya? Or was it okay? I know some people have said that it was better after somethin' like that, an' their parents were still friends." She pauses for another moment, gulping some more coffee before growing quiet.

Torres shrugs. "I was in university by then, so it wasn't that hard. Mean I figure most folk would rather see their parents together, but that's life, is all." A pause follows as a thought takes him, and he snorts in self amusement. "Right before they died, I think they were thinkin' a gettin' back together," Torres explains.

Delilah's eyes get huge once more at the thought of two people on the path to reconciliation just before their death. "That jus' ain't fair, Miya," she murmurs sympathetically. "I'm sorry ta hear that. But I'm glad it weren't that hard on ya." She lets a few coffee-filled moments go by before asking again, "Next question - how'd ya get ta Whitefall ta be a Sheriff?"

"Just one of a few stops," replies Torres, "along the way. Was sheriff on 'bout six planets, actually. Whitefall was the last 'fore here." He offers a noncommittal shrug next. "As for my parents, at least they died together."

Delilah glares at him, though the glare really isn't a serious one, and she asking in a chiding tone of voice, "Now, that was an awful non-specific answer. Ya were in the War. Bad things happened. Didja get injured at all? An' what did ya do next? Where did ya go ta become a Sheriff?" She leans forward and pokes him teasingly on the arm. "An' was there ever a lady in yer life?"

Torres shoots a stare back at Delilah, but holds on a retort. Instead, he shakes his head, and continues on. "'Course I got injured. Most these scars came courtesy a grenade. But I lasted out the war till the end. Got my first sheriff job quite by accident, really, but it took. And that's what I become after a spell. Ya got ta eat somehow, woman."

Delilah grins when he calls her woman, and if there's any tension or hostility here about her questions, it's going straight over her head. "So, what 'bout a girl?" she asks, clearly not letting this one go. "Were ya ever in love? Ever think 'bout gettin' married?" A thought occurs to her and she leans forward quickly with a little squeal and excited eyes. "Oooh! I could try ta set ya up with someone!"

Torres is about to have a drink of coffee when Delilah's line of questioning proves too much. The mug is replaced upon the table before Torres falls back into the sofa, folding his arms across his chest. "I do not need any assistance on findin' me a woman! And if I was ever in love with a woman, that would be 'tween them an' me!"

"I...I'm sorry!" Delilah cries, sitting back in the chair /hard/ in shock at Torres' outburst. "I didn't mean ta...I'll just go!" She snatches her coffee mug and streams out of the Commons, leaving the freshly baked banana bread behind her on the counter.If Torres were to look closely, he'd see she was crying as she left. Looks like she's a bit fragile still, after all.

Now he's gone and done it! Torres' eyes widen in surprise, and he sits up of a sudden. Gesturing meekly at Delilah, Torres blurts out, "Del. I don't mean ta be so tetchy an' all. Del would ya just-" He cuts himself off as Delilah leaves, then sighs.

Chatting with Matty - IC Time: Feb 25, 2522

2008-01-15T21:07:08Z

IC Time: Feb 25, 2522

Chaos Theory - Cockpit =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
=============================================================================
Most of this area is devoted to the controls that serve towards flying and navigating the ship. There are two seats here, each of them comfortable enough for the hours sometimes spent in them -- one for the pilot, and one for the co-pilot. In front of each are banks of controls, buttons and dials and guages all set for giving accurate readings of the ship. Depending on the purpose they serve, these can be either illuminated or dark, and some of them have display screens to them as well. An intercom unit is mounted on the wall, to ensure that communication is capable here. From the right edge of the pilot's console to the left side of the co-pilot's console sits a viewport where both can comfortably see out while they navigate through space.
=============================================================================

Matty is sitting in the pilot's seat, leaning back with her feet up on the console and her eyes half-closed and only paying minute attention to the screens. Stuck in her ears are a pair of earbuds from which tinny music can be heard.

Delilah knocks on the metal door leading into the bridge, biting her lip hard as she balances a tray of food with two hands - which means she's walking without holding onto anything. "Matty?" she calls out, focusing more on not spilling her food than scanning the room for the XO. "Would ya mind takin' this tray from me right quick?"

Matty tests her Music against a 50 difficulty. The result is successful (0).
Matty tests her Spot against a 65 difficulty. The result is successful (22).

"Whoooo aaare yooou?" sings Matty, quietly and not entirely on key, her foot bopping in time with the music playing in her eyes. This, of course, conspires to her not hearing Delilah, but a glance out the windows shows a reflection and she shifts around in her seat, bringing her feet down on the deck to stand, reaching to plug the earphones from her ears. "Hey, Del. What'd you say? Can I help ya with that?"

Raising an amused eyebrow, Delilah bites the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing, and holds the tray out to the XO. It's filled with tomato soup, grilled cheese a glass of milk, and saltine crackers. "I knew ya had ta do some flying for Trix, so I figured ya were gonna get hungry," she explains. "But I thought I was better at walkin' than I actually am. I did okay, but I still need ta have one hand free jus' in case. Can ya take this fer me?"

Matty flushes maybe just a little at having been caught singing along, but comes forward with a nod to take the tray. "Jus' don't tell Matt 'bout this. Not sure he likes people eatin' at the controls," she says and gives a look back over to the console with a shrug, letting a grin form on her lips. "Not that there's a whole lot o' controllin' to do." She heads over to the pilot's seat and sits, placing the tray on her lap. "Thanks, Del." She picks up one of the crackers, and takes a bite looking over at Delilah. "How'd things go with Talon? Last I saw you guys were gettin' along splendidly."

Delilah grins when Matty looks embarrassed, but chooses not to comment. Settling down in the other seat across the room from Matty, she lets out a long sigh and gets comfortable. "I dunno," she answers truthfully. "We went 'round the markers he wanted ta see an' he told me a bunch a war stories an' the like, an' then we came back here, I made food fer everyone, an' then we jus kinda...went ta bed. An' I think he's been busy with what little information he were able ta find while we were lookin', sendin' out WAVEs and whatnot. Ain't had much time ta talk. But at least he ain't...I mean, he's still here. He didn't run away or nothin', which is better than afore." She watches Matty eat with a small smile on her face for a while before turning serious and murmuring to the other woman, "How're /you/, Matty? I've been...well, not a good friend. An' I ain't had a real talk with ya in a while. Thought we might...catch up?"

"Jus' went to bed, eh? Ya mean that in the most literal sense, doncha?" Matty says with a grin, chewing at a cracker before lifting the bowl of tomato soup, sipping at it rather than using a spoon. Faster and easier, you know. She listens to the cook as she speaks, then continues eating quietly, a few moments after Delilah's finished. "I'm a'right. Well as can be, anyway, I reckon.." She doesn't look over at Delilah, but continues eating quickly and a little messily, looking over the panels and consoles now and then. "Ain't really nothin' goin' on that weren't since before ya left, though, if it's gossip yer after."

Delilah's eyes widen and she shakes her head in a sign of denial. "Ain't gossip I'm after, promise. I jus'...I missed ya. I missed talkin' ta ya. An' I jus' wanted ta catch up. Iffn' ya don't want ta, that's okay, too...I guess..." She trails off sadly, but then realization comes into her eyes and she sits a little straighter. "Matty! Yes, I meant bed in the literal sense! You know I ain't gonna...you /know/ that!"

Matty finishes up the rest of the meal and raises the glass to down the milk, grinning over the rim at Delilah's reaction to bed time. "Well, some.. If not most people.. 'Goin' to bed' means sleeping together," she says and sets the glass down, then lifts the tray off her knees to put it down on the deck behind her seat. Sitting back down, she lets out a sigh while making a pretense of studying the sensors and course and all the stuff that goes with flying, even if the autopilot deals with most of it. "I dunno.. Ain't much to tell, really. Jus' the same ol' with a bit o' excitement o' Bishop's wife coming along, but otherwise.." She shrugs and taps at a screen as if correcting something in the course setting. "Yer life's been far more innerestin' than mine lately, Del."

You test your Perception against a 50 difficulty. The result is successful (5).

Delilah nods glumly. "Well, sure didn't want it to be," she says mournfully. But then something about the XO's manner catches her attention, and she stands up, slowly making her way over to the other side of the bridge to gather up the dishes. "Somethin' on yer mind, Matty? Jus'...don't seem like yer tellin

Delilah nods glumly. "Well, sure didn't want it to be," she says mournfully. But then something about the XO's manner catches her attention, and she stands up, slowly making her way over to the other side of the bridge to gather up the dishes. "Somethin' on yer mind, Matty? Jus'...don't seem like yer tellin' me everythin'..."

"Ain't really nothin' to tell, Delilah," Matty says and leans forward a bit, paying more attention to the sensors now. "Athens comin' up on sensors. 'm gonna have ta start preparin' fer landin' this boat. Thanks fer dinner, Del. It tasted great." She gives a glance over her shoulder at the cook and sends her a genuine smile, then goes back to adjusting controls and pushing buttons.

"Yer welcome," Delilah whispers softly, edging away with the empty tray in her hands. She looks back at the Xo when she's most of the way out of the room, but just shakes her head for now, and leaves.

Serenity Valley - IC Time: Feb 23, 2522

2008-01-15T21:05:07Z

Serenity Valley - Hera =>Hera<=
==============================================================================
The war devastated Valley runs east to west here, a deep and wide ravine that houses a small river at the center, and at one time was lush with life. Now it's nothing more than a blackened and charred gorge left devoid of life by the fire storm that blew threw it in 2506. There is a solemn, uneasy feel to this place, as if the horror of that battle became one with the land and has still not dissipated.
The hillside to the north of the Valley had become consecrated ground, for over half a million men and woman are buried here - Alliance and Independents alike - each with their own identical headstone - some have names. Most don't. It's not unusual to see friends of family of the fallen, some who claim an unmarked grave for their own to honor, with the hope that someone else is doing the same for their lost one.
Serenity Graveyard is one of the most hallowed and sacred pieces of ground in the 'Verse.
==============================================================================

It's dusk, the sun setting in the distance, when the Theory's MULE comes over the rise, carrying Ashlyn, Delilah, and Matty in the driver's seat. Delilah's eyes are squinted, and her hand is raised to shield from the fading's sun's rays, which are directly in her eyes. "I think I see him over there," she comments loudly over the sound of the MULE engine. "Looks like him, anyway, from behind. Ain't sure, but we might as well check." The air is chilly, but she's got a new coat apparently, or perhaps someone's old coat. It looks worn - an old bomber coat that's seen better days, though she tugs it up around her neck like it's precious. "I can't believe he jus' up an' left like that, not knowin' when we were gonna leave or anythin'. I dunno if me goin' ta yer house, Ash, bothered him, but I'm jus' so surprised he'd..." She trails off and sighs, rethinking her words. "Nah. Actually, he always does this. Leavin' when he don't wanna deal with things or when they ain't easy or clear. 'Pose I shoulda seen this comin'." She sits back in her seat glumly, and waits for the MULE to reach the possible-Talon man.

Matty tests her Pilot:mule against a 40 difficulty. The result is successful (12).

Matty doesn't really seem to have much to say today. She just drives the MULE, perhaps a little too fast, but well enough that the passengers aren't jostled around too much. To shield her eyes against the setting sun, she's wearing a pair of sunglasses in addition to her hat, which is pulled down far on her forehead. Coming into whatever parking area there might be in this place, she brakes the vehicles, shuts off the engine and pulls the handbrake. End of the ride.

Talon stands before a group of four grave markers - if they can even be called that. Embedded hard into the ground in a straight line, four jagged but mostly rectangular pieces of a destroyed armored carrier are etched with the ranks and names of three soldiers and once officer; two of them have dates and one has a short message on it. Talon kneels and puts his hand to the earth briefly, coming up with one set of dogtags. He thumbs the dirt away from it and holds it up against the fading light.

Ashlyn squints into the distance, but the glare of the lowering sun effectively keeps her from being able to offer any kind of yes or no on the identity of the figure in the distance. She just shrugs to Delilah and shakes her head. "Can't say, Del," she says. "You knwo the man better'n me." She shifts as the MULE comes to a stop and hops out, offering her hand to help Delilah down after. She looks around at the ruined valley. "I /am/ glad James missed this," she says.

Delilah nods to Ashlyn and gently eases off the MULE as well, throwing a concerned look in Matty's direction, but focusing on the most part on getting to the Talon-man. She takes a long look around the area, though, and her eyes widen with awe. "This...this is /the/ Valley?" she asks, clearly amazed with the horrible sight. "Where all those Browncoats died? I thought...it's been so long, I guess I'd have thought...things woulda started growin'?" Her steps falter a bit, and she waits to regain her balance before attempting to move forward again towards the figure. "Talon?" she calls out, and her voice shakes a bit. If one were to look, they'd see goosebumps on her exposed skin, and notice her hands shaking quite a bit. It seems that the Valley of Death is having a profound impact on the cook.

Matty stays in the MULE's driver's seat, leaning back to plunk her feet up on the dashboard, pretending to watch the sunset. Or maybe she really /is/ watching the sunset? She doesn't answer Delilah, but her head moves fractionally toward the chef, but then turns back toward the sun, her face set in that neutral expression she wears when she doesn't want to show emotions.

Talon does not respond at first to his name being called. Instead, he fishes out his own dogtags from around his neck and looks down at them for a spell. Though the crew of the Theory cannot see his eyes, being behind him still, they have that far-away look of a man lost in memories. At last, he pulls out a smaller chain from his pocket upon which rest two dozen or so dogtags, and adds this one to the others. "I didn't think you'd come here," he replies to Delilah, pocketing the chain of tags again.

Ashlyn looks around the barren valley. "Fire must a burned it too far down... rain washed away the soil with no roots ta hold it where it was." She's looking down into the stream at the bottom of the valley rather then the figure. "Some day it'll come back, maybe." When Talon speaks up and verifies his identity, she stops, letting Delilah go on without her.

Delilah continues moving on towards Talon, heedless of the fact that Ashlyn has fallen behind and stopped following. "You're here," she whispers, to explain her presence here in this horrible place. "Ain't no place you would go that I wouldn't be willin' ta follow." She stops when she gets to the row of graves he stands in, and asks, "What are ya doin' here, darlin'? Ya left the ship an' didn't say anythin' ta me, didn't say anythin' ta nobody. I was worried." She glances down at the graves he seems to be interested in, and shivers. "D'ya know 'em or somethin'?"

Matty crosses her arms and freezes for a moment, her thumb moving over a particular spot on her chest. Her lips move as if to say something, but no sound comes and she just continues to sit there, watching as the sun drops slowly behind the mountains, tilting her head just a little as if trying to listen to Delilah.

Talon points to each of the markers in turn. "Sergeant Wong. He taught me half of everything. I was only supposed to be a Corporal. Back when the 23rd Defiant were ground-based on Boros, my Sergeant stepped on a Betty during a four-man recon mission on an anti-aircraft gun position. The explosion drew attention, and the three of us had to fight for our lives in a hasty retreat. We never even got his body. I was promoted to Sergeant, and given the next mission, just like that. I was lost, and he taught me everything." He shakes his head slowly, then looks to the other markers. "Corporal Manning, Private Frasier, Private Chang... I remember them all." He looks up to Delilah. "There's a marker for me here somewhere, too. They thought I was good as dead, and marked me down. I haven't found it yet."

Ashlyn turns to look away from Talon and Delilah, giving them their privacy. For her this land holds no real memories for her. She turns and sits, letting her legs dangle down over the side of gorge, eyes locked on the water below as it catches the setting sun and sends it back up at them in fractals of blinding gold. It's really a place more suited to silence isn't it?

Delilah furrows her brows as Talon goes into military speak, much of which she doesn't understand at all. But one thing does sink in, and she gasps, turning to survey the thousands of markers around them. "You...you have a stone here?" she whispers out, jamming her hands in the bomber coat's pockers and wrapping it around herself. "Talon, I...don't pretend ta know what bein' here again is like fer ya. Honest. I know ya lost bits of yer memory an' got hurt real bad, an' I know the fight didn't go well, but I ain't gonna say that I truly get it. I can tell ya that iffn' ya let me, I'll stand by yer side here, an' let ya tell me anythin' ya want, or nothin' at all, an' then we can go back ta the ship, or we can stay here. It's up to you. I jus' want ya ta know, there ain't nothin' ya could tell me that would make me leave yer side, less you were tellin' me ta go. I...thought 'bout what ya told me, an' I thought 'bout what that Preacher told me. I ain't gonna say it makes sense ta me, but I think I can handle what happened in yer past. 'Sides, Lord said not ta kill, an' yet my Pa told me Browncoats were heroes, an' ta marry one someday." She grows quiet for a moment, and then holds her hand out to him. "I don't care what ya say. I think yer a hero. An' I would be proud ta stand by yer side...iffn' ya'd let me."

Matty moves her hand to the neck opening of her t-shirt and hooks a finger around a chain hung around her neck. She pulls out the thing that has been hiding underneath the cloth and holds it in her hand for a moment, looking at it with a pained expression on her face. She holds the small medallion in her hand, then pulls her feet off the dashboard to get out of the MULE. She takes off her hat and her sunglasses and starts toward the gorge where Ashlyn is sitting and stops there, her hand still locked around the medallion around her neck.

Ashlyn is silent for a while after Matty steps up behind her, too abzorbed it seems in the vista. "Hey Matty," she says simply. Her eyes don't move from the view. Baren as it is, it's almost hypnotising in a way. Her eyes travel over the black rocks, the stream, and the sea of markers.

Talon nods, scanning over the grounds. "Somewhere. Major Rahman told me that Corporal Heisenberg refused to leave in Alliance custody until I was noted on this ground somewhere. He actually punched Captain Raleigh in the face when the Captain tried to order him into submission. So the Major figured it would be easier just to let Heisenberg put up a little piece of metal with my name scratched onto it. A piece of a jet that he brought down. I wonder where it is." He listens to Delilah, and what sounds a mighty lot like a proposal, silently and patiently. "The reason you won't truly get it, is because there really is nothing to get. The War was..." He glances to Matty, then back to Delilah. "I know you think I run away from everything. And to an extent, I guess it's true. But something of me remained in this ground when I fell, and I can't stay in one place anymore. Have to keep moving."

"Then I'll go with you," Delilah responds. "Or whatever ya want. If ya can't stay in one place, then I'll go where you go. Or talk ta Ashlyn an' see if you can join the ship. We don't stay in one place fer long. An' you can leave when ya need to, an' come back when you're done. Or not. Jus'...let me be there. In yer life. An' not as scenery, or somebody ya visit. Talon, I..." She begins to move slowly toward him, purposefully placing one foot down, then another, until she's made it to him in her unsteady way. "I want ta be with you. I want ta know you like ya don't let anybody else. An' I want ta mean somethin' to ya. James...the man I told ya 'bout, the one that died. He lived here. His family is here. An' they'll never see him again, an' I kept thinkin' while I was in their house...I don't want it ta be like that with us. I don't want ta let this chance go by. Won't you let us have that? Won't ya take that chance with me?" She holds her hand out to him again, waiting.

Matty pulls the medallion off her by giving it a good tug and thus breaking the chain. "Hey Ash..." she responds to the captain as if not really sensing the other woman there at all. She crouches down, precariously close to the edge, the toes of her boots actually hanging out in free space. Putting her elbows on her knees, she holds the medallion out in front of her by the chain, looking at it with narrowed eyes. "I dunno whether to be pissed or grateful, Ash.. That James kept this thing.." She tilts her hand a bit, making the medallion swing from its chain. "I mean, James knew this was my brothers and he knew me and yet.. He never told me about it." She pauses and smiles a bit, her eyes still on the medallion. "Still, I'm glad to see it."

Ashlyn looks at Matty curiously, a slow kind of awareness coming to her eyes. "Huh?" she says as she snaps out of the kind of trance the valley's placed on her. "Oh. That?" she pauses to consider the medalion swinging from Matty's fingers. "Maybe he fergot `bout it?" she suggests. "was it... Important ta yer brother?"

Talon looks at Delilah's hand for a long moment and slowly reaches out to take it. "If I knew how, I would," he says quietly. "I haven't been beholden to anyone in a long time. Ten years, even. Never said any good-byes, never left any notes. When I got the notion to move, I moved on. Like a shadow melting away in the sunlight, like the tide receding into calm. And you know I'm nothing but trouble. Ending up in jail, wanted for a list of crimes and offenses... How could you live with all of that?"

Delilah shakes her head and takes a tiny step towards him, weaving her fingers in with his slowly. "I don't care iffn' yer trouble. I don't care iffn' yer wanted fer the most horrible things possible on every planet known ta man. I don't care! This," she gestures at the Valley as she speaks, "This is too short. This is over far too quickly. You told me the other night that ya didn't know how ta do this, but that ya wanted to. An' I told ya that I love ya. I love you. I love you!" Each time, she says the phrase louder and louder, until she's nearly shouting the three words out across this valley of death and destruction, defying the misery here to come and take away her feelings for this man. "How could I live with that? How could I not? How...could I not?" She takes a few more steps towards him as she speaks, turning her face up towards his. Her expression is glowing, her eyes are hopeful, and there's a small nervous smile on her lips. The sun has set now, and the light is dim, while she waits to see if he will reject her once more, or take her as his own.

Matty gives a shrug at Ashlyn's question, but nods at the same time. "He was more religious 'n me. Probably thought this thing would protect him or something.." she says with a rueful smile. "Didn't really do him much good, did it?" At Delilah's shouts, she turns to look and nearly loses her balance, but rights herself before going over and plunks down ungracefully beside Ashlyn. "Gorramit.." she mumbles, then raises her voice to shout back at the two. "Why don't ya just /ask/ him, Del!"

Ashlyn turns to look over her shoulder at the yelling, a small quirk of a smile on her lips. "Well, that would be a little too modern, wouldn't it?" she says quietly to Matty, her smile growing a little. "An' maybe it did bring him luck. He didn't die alone. In the end, sometimes that's the best ya can hope fer. Luck's really all how ya look at it, right?"

Talon leans down toward Delilah slowly, and a grin touches his lips at Matty's words just before he kisses Delilah, sweet and light and simple. Almost like a first kiss for the man - maybe it's been so long that he's forgotten how. He pulls back slowly, his eyes still closed, inhaling slowly and deliberately. It's another moment still until he opens his eyes again. "I died in this place... Maybe, just maybe, I'll come back to life here as well," he murmurs.

Delilah nearly jumps out of her skin and starts to turn when Matty yells to see what in the world is going on, but Talon is kissing her, and who the hell cares about Matty yelling sarcastic things when /Talon/ is /kissing/ her? There's a soft smile on her lips, as well, as they kiss, and when he speaks afterwards she flings her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes as best she can. "I jus' want ta make ya happy," she whispers, waiting for him to wrap his own arms around her middle. "Jus' tell me how, I'll do anythin' ya ever want. I love you, I love you, I love you..."

Matty gives a quiet nod to Ashlyn and wraps the chain around her hand, placing the painted metal piece in the palm of her hand. "Luck.. I don't know 'bout that," she says, but her eyes are still watching the other two, not bothering to look away as they kiss. She shakes her head a little as the cook seems to not take her advice and turns back to the gorge, her eyes falling to her hands to look at the medallion. "'sides, I don't believe in luck." That said, she moves her hand to let the chain come away from her hand again, then suddenly tosses the medallion away with a flick of her wrist.

Ashlyn's eyes track the flight of the medalion through the air. Like the water below, it catches the setting sun and shines it back a bright and blinding gold. Then it's gone. "You gotta beleave in somethin'," she says, her voice quirking a little at the end as if she might be asking a question rather than making a statement.

Talon looks into Delilah's eyes wordlessly - not pushing her away, but also not returning her words of love. "I'm going to be here for a little while," he says at last. "Nobody can give me a straight answer on who survived, who died, who got injured, who walked away, who went into Alliance custody... So I'm going to try to reconstruct a roster as I can in my head. And pay respects to old friends and fellow troops."

Delilah is apparently too far up on cloud nine to notice Talon's lack of affirmation...or perhaps she was expecting it. Either way, she smiles shyly at him and nods. "An' I can't stay? I'd like ta, iffn' you'll let me. Hear your stories 'bout everyone, everythin' ya do remember. Would that...be okay?" Her hair falls into her face and she quickly tucks it behind one ear, swallowing nervously. Talon's so newly changed his mind - it would be a shame for her to take a wrong step on this fragile ground and ruin what she's just gained. "If not," she says quickly, "You'll...come back ta the ship? After? I'll wait fer you, I can make ya food iffn' ya want. I think I'm ready ta get back ta the galley now."

"Something," Matty confirms and gets to her feet without saying what exactly she believes in. "I'm gonna head back." To the ship, presumably, but who knows? She walks over to the MULE to fetch her hat and sunglasses, putting one on her head and the other in a pocket. She gives a last look over toward Delilah and Talon and then starts walking back toward the spaceport. Hopefully, someone here can drive the MULE back..

Ashlyn watches Matty go, leaning back on her hands, her eyes sliding after the path of the medalion, now lost in the gloom setting over the valley. A gloom that really doesn't seem to be toucheing Delilah any more, Ashlyn notes, smiling over at the cook once as she stands, pulling a flashlight from her pocket and heading down a dirt path deeper into the valley without a word. Well, she wasn't too clear on how to drive the MULE anyway.

Talon thinks for a while. "If you don't mind being silent when I ask, so that I can think and remember and pay my respects..." he says at last. "And while we're looking and walking about, I can tell you what this place was. What it looked like before, what we did when we dug in for the long haul, the last pitched battle of the War."

Delilah nods enthusiastically. "I can do that, yeah," she reassures. "Those are the things I really wanna hear anyways, everythin' ya remember." She lowers herself from standing on her tiptoes to reach out for his hand again, tangling her fingers with his once more, if he lets her. "Where d'ya wanna start?"

Going Through James' Things - IC Time: Feb 17, 2522

2008-01-15T21:00:24Z

You are entering Farm Road - Hera.
Farm Road - Hera =>Hera<=
==============================================================================
A long road, winding around abandoned foxholes and immovable boulders, slowly wideness as it becomes a crossroads. A long forgotten signpost lies in pieces on the ground, it's destinations eroded away long ago. The track leads off in three directions, an overgrown dirt path toward distant fields, littered with potholes, whereas another heads for towers looming in the distance, bearing the familiar Blue Sun logo. The main road however heads straight for town, well sign posted but seemingly devoid of travellers.
==============================================================================

"It's, ya know, all I was really able ta bring with me, Da," Ashlyn is saying quietly from where she's standing on the far side of the front room of the Tanner farmhouse. She holds out something in her palm to her father, a somewhat unremarkable looking man with rather thick glasses and pockets weighed down with tools. She drops whatever it is in her hand into her fathers. It looks like a set of dogtags. "Maybe some day I can do more, but not `til... Well, you know the story." Ashlyn doesn't look quite so sad as to be called morose, but she certainly isn't laughing. Todd sighs a little under his breath, tucking the dog tags into his pocket with a nod. "Yeah, maybe some day," he replies.

He's only a couple of paces away. Bishop really didn't have a choice, not that there was much of a choice to make. He stands and tries to look as supportive as possible for Ashlyn, if not her father as well. Awkward first meetings be damned.

"Look, Ginger," comes a voice from outside, just loud enough to be heard inside. "I told ya, already, pirates ain't no people ya wanna be messin' with, so /no/, I ain't gonna be introducin' ya to none o' them." There are footsteps on the porch and then a knock at the door before Matty peeks her head inside. "Anyone here?" she asks and reaches behind her to grabs someone, then pushes Ashlyn's niece inside in front of her. "Found this one tryin' to sneak on the ship again."

Torres emerges from a room, taking the Tanners up on their offer of a place to sleep. He may be enjoying space travel, but there isn't anything like sleeping in a proper bed in a proper room with a window and sky to see in the morning. Closing the door behind him, Torres ambles into the front room, a book in hand. Seeing Ashlyn and Bishop with the older Tanner, he nods to all. "Afternoon." He says to Todd, "You've a right pleasant home here, sir. Right pleasant." Odd to see the gunhand without his pistol, but there he is, armed. He grins to Matty and Ginger when they enter.

Delilah follows Matty inside, pushing herself in the wheelchair and looking rather anxious. Assuming that no one will mind if she sneaks on in after Matty announced her arrival, she slowly wheels into the room and rests her hands in her lap, staring down at her feet.

Deco is not far behind Delilah, carrying his medical bag this time around. A tinge of concern is on his face when he glances to Delilah, stopping beside her. He nods to Mr. Tanner and Ashlyn, then produces a smile for Torres when their eyes meet.

Ashlyn reaches back to brush her fingers against Bishop's arm appreciatively, smiling back at him and mouthing the words 'thank you.' She turns as she hears Matty and Torres' voices, and looks like she's about to say something to Ginger when Todd speaks up. "Ginger Anne Tanner!" Todd starts. Middle name. You know you're in trouble. "After what happened last time? When yer da hears `bout this." ...Well, grandparents are really there to spoil kids not punish them, aren't they?

Ashlyn rolls her eyes and finishes the threat. "He'll make ya mop the cargo bay again. You know we hauled cows last week?" She sees Delilah entering behind Matty and smiles, though has nothing to say to ease the discomfort she seems to be feeling. She turns back to her father. "Ya said ya wanted me ta go through some boxes a his stuff still, yeah?" she asks quietly, looking about at Matty, Delilah, and Torres as she asks, her fingers still resting on Bishop's arm.

Ginger has perfected the same I-been-caught look as Ashlyn, eyes wide and looking entirely guilty, but it disolves into quiet sulking. "Sorry, sir," she mumbles to her grandfather. "Sorry, ma'am," she ads to Matty.

Bishop smiles towards Ashlyn and then looks at everyone. He speaks in a very quiet voice, "Anythin' ya need me to do love..." There is sympathy in his tone and for once he's not making a complete ass-fool of himself.

Ginger delievered into the hands of the proper authorities, Matty gives a look over her shoulder at Delilah and grimaces a little at the expression on the chef's face. Then she looks back to the others in the room and lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "Sorry.. 's jus' that it ain't a good idea t' be tryin' to sneak on board the Theory these days... 'n don't be callin' me 'ma'am'. I ain't old enough fer that," she says and turns a glare on Ginger before she gives a look back over to Ashlyn at her last comment, giving her a nod. "I'll help if ya still want me to, Ash?"

Sitting down in a chair, Torres watches Delilah a moment, then flicker to Deco with a nod. He grins as Ginger received a word from her grandpa, then listens more somberly to what Ashlyn has to say. He sighs under his breath.

Delilah half-smiles back at Ashlyn, but she ends up gulping when the words 'his stuff' are spoken. "Don't 'pose they're talkin' 'bout a neighbor, are they?" she whispers to Deco miserably.

Deco looks back at Delilah, canting his head. He attempts a smile for her, if rueful, then rubs her shoulder reassuringly.

Todd nods and gestures to the west end of the property where another one of the many little buildings that have spawned off the main one over the years can be glimpsed through a frosty window. "It's all been packed up. Didn't know if ya wanted to keep anythin', if ya might find any a it useful or worth havin' around. Was gonna donate everthin' left ta charity." He shuffles Ginger off to wherever on the property her own home is, and she slinks out with a slightly unsure, "Sorry, m- miss?" to Matty.

"Yeah," Ashlyn says with a half smile. "Be happy ta go through it. Mind if the crew helps?" she asks, nodding to Matty. "He was pretty close ta us all." As she's already taking a step toward the side door leading off to the west, she seems to already know the answer he's going to give. Her eyes glance worriedly to Delilah for a moment, but her eyes quickly move back to her father.

Even Bishop's eyes drift towards Ashlyn's father, offering a polite nod towards him since they haven't really even met. "Hello." He says as all the other interplay is happening.

"Matty," the XO tells Ginger, though any kind of authorative tone is gone from her voice now. She gives the girl a slight smile and shrugs again. "Jus' don't be tryin' to sneak on the ship again, 'kay, Ginger?" As Ashlyn starts toward the side door, she starts to follow, giving a glance over at Delilah and catches her lower lip between her teeth. "You okay, Del?"

Torres rises from the chair after placing his book on a table. He takes a breath, nodding respectfully to Todd as the elder Tanner leaves with Ginger. A glance goes Delilah's way before Torres walks toward Ashlyn and the side door.

"I'm 'kay, Matty," Delilah responds, though likely not very convincingly. Her eyes scrinch shut when Ashlyn tells her father that they were all close with James, and she swallows hard. "Ash, d'ya want me there?" she calls out, eyes still closed, apparently more concerned with Ashlyn's feelings in the matter than her family finding anything out.

Deco remains silent, content to follow his patient for now. His eyes flicker to Matty and he shrugs to the XO when Delilah looks away.
Todd raises a hand as if tipping his hat to Bishop with a slight smile as he follows after Ginger to make sure she does indeed make it back to her home. "`Lo, Jason," he says. "Good ta finally meet ya." He ads to the rest of the crew, "And y'all're welcome to look through it. Be nice ta know his things went where he'd want `em ta go."

Ashlyn smiles softly and nods. "Yeah," she says. "Sounds good." She pushes open the door, letting in a gust of wind littered with errent snowflakes, though none are actually falling. "Y'all're all welcome ta come. An' you don't gotta come if'n ya don't wanna, Del." She looks at Delilah rather worriedly as she steps out into the cold.

"Sir." Jason says towards Todd and looks towards Ashlyn before adding. "Good ta meet you too. Wish it was under happier circumstances... maybe sometime we can slip out and have a drink or something."

Matty draws in a breath, a hint of impatience flickering into her eyes at Delilah's response. She gives a glance at Deco and gives him a shrug back before she turns to continue following Ashlyn, apparently none too inclined to help Delilah get where they're going.

Torres follows Ashlyn and Bishop outside, tucking his hands into his pockets, bracing for the chill in the winter air.

Delilah opens her own eyes in time to catch Matty's impatience, and she grimaces, hurt. "Deco, would ya mind pushin' me there?" she murmurs softly, almost seeming embarassed. "Think I overdid it, pushin' myself all the way here on the road." She nods at Ashlyn when she says she doesn't have to go, but steels her shoulders and waits for a responcse from Deco. Ashlyn's family doesn't really get any recognition from her, though.

Deco regards Delilah, studying her face a moment. He says then, "First sign it's too much for you, I'm taking you back, Del. Aliright? A gunshot wound is no laughing matter especially to the stomach, but your psychological health matters more to me right now. Your stomach's gonna heal fine, s'long as ya don't go doin' jump ropes, but the mind is another story altogether." Deco takes hold the grips of the wheelchair, then pushes Del forward through the side door as Torres holds it open for them.

The path the James' old house is dusted in snow, not enough to warrent shoveling, but enough to leave foot prints in. It's not much warmer inside, the heater having not been in use, though at least there's no wind. Ashlyn flips on the heater and the small house begins to warm. Inside everything's been packed up, the furniture removed, and the smaller items packed away in cardboard boxes. None of them are labeled and the few that are open reveal mostly broken bridles and other things in states of repair, and plenty of accumulated junk that one manages to pick up durring the course of their lifetime which really has no use.

Ashlyn drops Armored Duster - 12286.

Matty follows Ashlyn along the path to the house, only giving a single glance over her shoulder to see Delilah coming along after all and very nearly rolls her eyes at the chef. She mutters something under her breath, low enough that no one will overhear, but the tone of it is irritated and somewhat angry. Coming inside the house, she takes her hat off and zips down her jacket, it being warm enough in here for a St. Albans native even if it might be cold for others. She gives a look around at the boxes, then looks over at Ashlyn. "Where d'you want to start?"

Torres gazes at the footprints in the light snow, lost in his own thoughts as the group walk to James' house. Stepping inside the door of the house, Torres almost feels a weigh bearing down on him. The weight of the war. He clears his throat of a sudden. Matty's words draw his attention then.

Delilah sees Matty looking at her, but doesn't catch the rest of the reaction, since she's too far behind. "I really 'preciate that, Deco," Delilah mumbles to him, "But I weren't able ta be there when he died, an' I weren't able to watch him bein' buried. This is all I got left ta say goodbye with. An' iffn' I ever want ta make a future with that man back on the Theory, or anyone else ever, I gotta say goodbye, or be alone the rest a my life." She pauses as they move along, and then asks quickly before they're in earshot of everyone else, "Why is Matty so upset with me?"

Slowing down some in the snowy pathway, Deco considers an answer for Delilah in momentary silence before saying quietly, "I think Matty's just feelin' what we're all feelin', Del. We know ya've been goin' through a real tetchy patch a Life, an' we don't wanna see ya go under, as it were. Everybody'd a little different, an' some of us are more delicate than others. You just need ta be aware of that, Del. Like that famous ancient guy said a helluva long time ago on Earth-That-Was: know thyself." He stops before they enter inside. "Ready?" Deco asks of Delilah.

Ashlyn looks about at the boxes. "At the top I guess," she murmurs, pulling down a box and picking apart the top. Inside is a pile of broken tack that comes out like that knot of christmas lights that's been working itself into a ball all summer. Nothing of real interest is underneath. Just some dust and bits of old leather. She drops it back into the box and re-folds the lid. "Don't s'pose we'll need many bridles or reigns ont the Theory," she says, with a half smile, moving on to the next one.

Probably lucky that Matty doesn't hear what Delilah said or there might have been words, even though the XO is showing remarkable restraint due to the situation. She follows Ashlyn's example and opens a box, looking inside it with a shake of her head toward the captain. "Nah.. Not 'less yer plannin' on hitchin' horses to the MULE?" she says, in a lame attempt at humour. She moves around some items in the box she's opened, coming out with a thick, coarse blanket.

Torres hesitates before electing to help out, opening the first box he sees. It's a big one, and after removing a quilt or two, the gunhand dips in to lift a western style saddle with some degree of strain. It brings a smile to his face as he studies it. Flipping it over he grunts, saying, "Ah, too bad. Bottom brace was broke. Pretty saddle though. Should've been easy to fix." Torres begins to pack the saddle back in carefully, sighing.

Delilah frowns and asks, "Matty's mad at me cuz I'm sad? That jus' don't make no kinda - " She cuts herself off as they enter the small house, and she breathes out instinctively, "Oh, sweet Jesus, help me." Her eyes flick from one box to the next, her expression unreadable, though her hands are folded together tightly.

Deco expels a breath, then murmurs to Del quietly. A little louder he says, "Anyway, you need to gauge your-" He cuts himself off as he sees Delilah's reaction, stopping the wheelchair just inside the doorway of James' house. "Talk ta me, Del. How we doin'?"

Ashlyn turns from the box she's pulled down, one that seems to be filled with various tools used for repairing tack, awls, scrap leather, scisors and such, most of it in somewhat poor repair as if this were the proverbial set left out in the shed. "Del, are you a'ight?" she asks. She shoves the box back toward the pile and dusts off her hands on her cargo pants.

Matty looks over her shoulder as Delilah comes in, but simply gives a minute shake of her head at the chef's reaction to being. Then she turns back to the pile of boxes and opens one, pausing as she looks inside, the irritated expression wiped away with a more sombre one as she reaches inside to touch something. Her fingers close around a piece of cloth and she pulls out what appears to be a dark red silken scarf of a style that some people might have seen Matty wear herself.

Torres stops and glances at Delilah, then Deco, an expression of concern on his face. Eyes narrowing, he says to Delilah, "Maybe it weren't such a good idea, comin' here, Del."

"I'm fine," Delilah mumbles back to Deco. "It's alright," she calls louder to Ashlyn. "I jus'...I don't know what I 'spected, but it weren't this. It's so...it's jus' boxes. So cold an' impersonal. I thought...I thought it would help, seein' where he put his knickknacks an' his pictures an' whatnot, ya know?" Running her hands through her hair quickly, she tucks a few strands behind her ear and leans forward slightly to inspect a box somewhat close to her. "I hafta do this," she replies to Torres, not meeting his eyes. "I can't get past this iffn' I don't."

Deco glances round the group from behind Delilah, looking ambivalent himself. He nods and hooks his bag to one of the grips on the wheelchair, and walks round to help Delilah with the box she's singled out. "Let me help ya with that."

Ashlyn looks about the room. "There was a couch right there," she says, pointing to a bare spot on the floor. "An' he had photos on that shelf there over the fireplace. Sure they've all found new homes by now. It really looked a lot warmer in here when..." she looks around, brows knit as she searches. "Ah, there." She leans over the pile of boxes and shoves one to the side, revealing a light switch which floods the room in a warm yellow light from overhead when she switches it on. "That's better." She smiles as she looks around at the difference which may only be notable to her. She looks at the scarf Matty pulls out, but the war means little her her personally, having been just a child at the time. She frowns a little anyway, and turns back to Delilah. "Do you... want me ta find a photo fer ya? I'm sure there are lots about."

Matty stands frozen for a moment, the red scarf still in her hand, then draws in a sharp breath and digs around a little further in the box. "Found his uniform..." she says, without really saying it to anyone in particular, then extracts a piece of heavy brown cloth. "Duster here." She pulls out the armoured coat and shakes it out, giving it a look before her hands run over it. "Still in good shape."

Torres closes the big box up finally. Turning to Matty, he studies the duster and sighs, smiling. "Gave my duster away years ago. On Athens, I think." Pause as he studies it further. "Yeah, looks like he had it in storage since the war. Little beat up, but none too bad." He snorts before turning to grab another box.

Delilah looks where Ashlyn's pointing as Deco moves the box closer to Delilah, and lets out a slow breath when the light comes on. "That does look better," she remarks, reaching out for the opening flaps of the box and pulling out a few dead, pressed flowers. "Ash..." she calls out, her voice trembling. "Ohhh...do you remember these?" Matty is given a wide-eyed look when she mentions James' uniform, but the wide eyes soon turn to horror when they notice the bullet holes in the duster. "I think...yeah, pictures, maybe? Was this...I mean...did he live here before an' after he was married, or...during?

Once the box is opened, Deco elects to stand beside Delilah, content to gauge her behavior for now, if distracted now and then by what the others are finding. Such as the duster, which also draws a rueful smile from the doctor.

"After," Ashlyn answers. "Where anyone lives about here at any given time is kinda... variable. Hey, look at this." From her spot leaning over to find the light switch, she pulls a taped cardboard box labelled as having been mailed from the Jiangyin spaceport. Even though most of the other things have gotten a once through by other people searching for mementos, this one shows no sign of having been opened since it was shipped. Turning the box over curiously in her hands for a moment, she draws a knife out of her pocket and cuts away the tape.

"There's a stack of photos in here," she says, drawing out a small pile banded together. They're dark as if they were taken at night or early evening, crowds of people and a large fire in all the shots. Several of them prominently feature James and Delilah.

Matty gives Torres a nod and holds it up to her body as if measuring its size against her own. Too large for her. "Had to sell mine," she notes with just a hint of remorse in her voice, then starts folding up the duster with great care, glancing over toward Torres giving him a kind of gauging look before she turns to Ashlyn. "Y'know, Ash.. I bet this would fit Torres."

Torres has his hands in a smaller box now, and he pulls out a paper bag, old rubber band still binding it. Removing it, he opens the bag and reaches in. Photos and letters are inside. Brows creasing, Torres scrutinizes the collection before he looks up to Ashlyn and says, "Got pictures and a few letters here. From the war." His eyes dart to Matty, then the old duster. He hesitates before saying, "Naw. I couldn't."

Delilah murmurs to Deco, "His wife used ta make these," before handing the dried flowers off to him quickly. But when Ashlyn finds bonfire pictures, Delilah's eyes fill with tears. "I fergot 'bout that..." she whispers, reaching a hand out in a plea to see them. "I 'most got inta a fight with some lady what thought I was some easy slut type girl who used ta live there an' sleep with all the women's husbands. He...James stood up fer me, an' I ran away. Cuz I felt like I was doin' somethin' wrong with him." She catches herself on a sob, and bites her lip hard. "Is there anythin' else in there, Ash? This stuff musta come from JiangYin, his little cabin there. I bet the lady that owns the general store sent it."

"Take it," Ashlyn says to Torres with a nod toward the duster. "Bet he'd want one a us ta have it. Remember what my da said, he's gonna give the lot a it ta charity. An' it ain't gonna fit almost no one else on the whole ship." She hands over the pile of photos hesitantly to Delilah, watching her carefully as she does so. "Yeah, his jacket, too. Nothin' else." She pulls out an old leather jacket, not one that would offer protection from anything other than cold, just a scuffed bomber jacket.

Deco takes the dried flowers, genuine interest on his face. "Dahlias. My favorite." Glancing to Ashlyn, he says smiling, "That's what we need more've on the ship, Ash. Flowers. Get a couple lamps, some big pots, seeds. Theory would just glow, I tell ya."

Matty looks over to Torres and gives an understanding nod, then starts to put the folded duster back in the box. She hesitates a moment, then reaches inside to take out a small medallion, emblazoned with an icon of the Virgin Mary. The duster slips from her grasp and falls to the floor with a loud thud (it being armoured and all) and the XO swallows a lump in her throat before she turns the medallion over, letting her fingers run over the initials scratched there. And then, without warning, her knees give out and she follows the duster to the floor, sitting there with her eyes locked on the medallion.

Torres offers the small bundle of pictures and letters to Ashlyn, saying, "You should hold on ta these, Ash. If anythin'..." His eyes turn back to Matty and the duster, pondering before he gestures for James' duster. "Might as well try it-Hey! Matty, what?!" Torres tosses the bundle into the box, then hops over a box to reach Matty, a hand extending to her for support.

Delilah's still crying silently as she flips through the photos, but at least now she's got a smile on her face. "Oh, look! Todd an' Addie! They were jus' the cutest little kids. 'Cept Todd had this thing fer toads." She keeps flipping through them, stopping at a closeup on James and Delilah, where James looks to be bending in for a kiss. Looking up to wipe her eyes, Delilah catches sight of the jacket Ashlyn pulls out, and her breath shudders once more. "Oh, my God, Ash," she manages out. "I jus' assumed...that y'all buried him in it, I didn't think...can I - can I see it?" She hastily moves the pictures to the side of her lap, so that her falling tears won't damage them, and holds her arms out, like a small child being offered a hug.

"I don't got no objections ta flowers," Ashlyn says with a smile. "But ya might wanna grow catnip, too ta keep Sprocket outta them." She starts as Matty uncovers soemthing, but Torres is already there. Her worry now split between Matty and Del, she moves over to Delilah and offers the jacket to her. "He must a fergot it on Jiangyin..." she says as she hands it to her. "Matty..?"

Matty seems to be crying to now. Can that really be true? Must be something in her eyes, right? Dust or something. "................................" she starts, not realising that she's switched into Russian. "..............................." Those without the knowledge of the language might still pick up words like 'Mikhail', 'Ash' and 'James'.
Deco places the dried flowers in the box, looking at Delilah, a little relieved. He nods to himself. Matty plopping on her knees shakes him out of any sense of complacency, and he glances alarmed at Matty, a step or two made her way, waiting to see if it's emotions or something requiring his aid.

Torres stops beside Matty, watching her carefully. Lots of memories in a place like this. He returns the gaze to Deco, shrugs and nods an assurance to him.

Delilah buries her face into the jacket, breathing in deep. Pushing the material against her face, she stays that way for a few seconds, until she lowers it to her lap and covers her face with her hands. When Deco moves, however, she moves her hands away to see what's going on, but is blocked by Torres. "What's goin' on?" she asks Deco with a shaking voice. "What's wrong with Matty?"

Ashlyn shrugs slowly to Matty. "Maybe he felt bad... I dunno. He never really told me much `bout it." She looks around, everyone having found some kind of closure for something it seems, or at least a token to remember James by. "Think the rest a this stuff might be set ta go off ta charity, huh? Think I'll go slip out an' tell Da we got what we needed? Okay. I won't be far." She looks worriedly to Matty and Delilah again as she steps to the door.

"'m okay.. 's jus'," Matty mumbles at the two men coming at her, then raises a hand to wipe away the tears quickly and in the same move slips the medallion around her neck and drops it underneath her t-shirt. She takes the duster lying next to her and gets to her feet, then shoves the armour at Torres. "Here. Ash is right, I reckon James woulda wanted ya to have this. Better'n letting it go to charity, yeah?"

Regarding the words between Ashlyn and Matty (half of which is not understood), Torres grabs the duster from Matty. James' duster. He stares at the heavy coat and sighs, putting it on then. Strange, that feeling. Like riding a bicycle. You never forget. He grunts. Feels good. Eyes are cast expectantly To Deco.
Deco leans sideways, staring at Matty. He says to Delilah, "She found a medallion, got a little shook up is all. Guess we all are." He expels a breath, then glances at Torres once he's in the duster. Smiling, he says nothing. The smile says it all.

Delilah nods to Deco and goes back to examining James' coat, satisfied that if Deco says Matty's fine, she must be. She watches Ashlyn leave distractedly and nods when she says she's going to talk to Mr. Tanner, and begins to pick up the pictures once more, flipping through them. Seeing as she never saw James in the duster, Torres wearing it doesn't get much of a reaction from her. She seems different...still fragile, but not likely to start counting fingers again anytime soon. "Matty?" she calls out as she gazes at the photos, "Everythin' better?"

"I need some air," Matty announces and starts toward the door, giving a nod to Delilah as she goes, though she doesn't look directly at the woman. Her fingers come up to touch the place on her chest where the medallion is supposedly hanging, hidden under her shirt. "Yeah. 's okay, Del. Don't worry.." That said, she continues to the door and heads outside, muttering something to herself in Russian.

Torres grins back at Deco, then watches Delilah a moment. He takes a breath, his eyes following Matty as she heads outside. They cast downward after, and Torres turns back to the small box. He sniffs, then walks back to the box, pulling out the bundle of pictures and letters. He stuffs them delicately back into the bag, then folds the bags up and puts it in the duster's pocket. Turning to Deco and Delilah, he says, "I'm headin' back to the ship after I get a few things in the house."

Deco glances at Matty as she leaves. He responds to Torres' comment with a shrug, asking Delilah, "What'd you want ta do, Del? Feelin' tired?"
"What do I want to do?" Delilah mumbles, lost in the smell of James. "I want ta go ta St. Alban's. I want ta go back in time. I want ta never have visited my Pa while James was off dyin'. I want ta fergive him, I want ta tell him I love him, I want ta never have met him. I want ta marry Talon, I wish I never met Talon. An' yeah, I'm tired. Ain't never been so tired in all my life." She wraps her arms around the coat, and looks up at Deco sadly. "What 'bout you? You got anybody? Ya lose anybody ever? Seems like you an' I are always tagether, but we ain't talked much yet, an' I'm sorry fer that. I jus'...ain't been myself lately." She nods at Torres and Matty as they walk out the door, but she's more focused on the jacket and Deco more than anything else.

Deco watches Torres' back as he leaves, shouting, "I'll see ya in a sec, Cid." Listening to Delilah, Deco tries to shed a grin forming on his lips, but it only partially takes, his lips pursing because of it. Scratching the back of his head, he replies, "Well, sounds like you're findin' your balance again, Del. As for me, not much to tell really. Lost some, loved some. Like everyone else, is all. Maybe we should head back then? Got everything?" Deco walks back behind the wheelchair, ready to leave.

Delilah nods quickly, slightly ashamed that her attempt to draw Deco into a private conversation has failed. "Yeah," she says dejectedly. "Guess we should get outta here." She waits for a second, and then sits up, turning around to face him. "Actually, would it be alright if I stayed here by myself? I can probably push myself back in a bit, or call ya on the iComm. I jus'...I'm not sure I'm up fer another Tanner family encounter jus' now. It's a bit too much fer me, thinkin' 'bout how close I came ta bein' part a their family an' all."

"I was hopin'," Deco says, "ta get you back on Theory, take a look at your stitches and such. But, I guess it can wait." He glances around at the boxes piled around the room, his expression a little mournful. He nods to Del, "Sure, I'll be in the house ya need me."

Delilah nods to Deco and goes back to staring at the coat, murmuring, "Thank ya, Doc," and waiting for him to leave before picking up one of the pressed flowers with a sigh.

Smiling, Deco regards Delilah briefly. He offers a small wave, then turns and leaves through the door, closing it behind him.

Tanner House - IC Time: Feb 15, 2522 - 13:01:20

2008-01-09T16:52:18Z

You are entering Farm Road - Hera.
Farm Road - Hera =>Hera<=
==============================================================================
A long road, winding around abandoned foxholes and immovable boulders, slowly wideness as it becomes a crossroads. A long forgotten signpost lies in pieces on the ground, it's destinations eroded away long ago. The track leads off in three directions, an overgrown dirt path toward distant fields, littered with potholes, whereas another heads for towers looming in the distance, bearing the familiar Blue Sun logo. The main road however heads straight for town, well sign posted but seemingly devoid of travellers.
==============================================================================

The Tanner home is a sprawling wooden affair, some parts seemingly much newer than others, rooms and guest houses having been added on over time. Painted a faded forest green with a dark brown trim under a black shingled roof, it sits at the far side of the small town backed up less than a day's walk from the dark rolling mountains that bracket the West and North sides. There is evidence that at one point a wooden rail fence may have bordered the dirt path leading up to the house, but it has long since fallen into disrepair and has been largely removed. Further back are large fenced in expanses of meadow coated in a light dust of snow and for now empty of horses. Beyond the farmhouse is the hulking form of a large barn. Dogs can be heard somewhere near the back of the property, though aside from a brief glimpse in the distance, none are very close. Two massive trees stand sentry to either side of the blue-painted front door. A small treehouse is visible in the leftmost tree.

Ashlyn looks rather more nervouse as she appraoches the house, almost as if expecting an ambush of some kind. One wich comes just as she predicted, half way down the path. Someone leans out of the treehouse and lobs a large red water balloon which splashes into the icy path at her feet. "Gah! Drew, I hate you!" Ashlyn screams.

Matty has taken Ashlyn's advice to heart, it seems and is trailing behind the captain at a respectable distance as if taken up the rear of a platoon out on recon. She tilts her head a little at the sound of dogs barking and a corner of her mouth lifts a little, but then there's a splash and a scream from Ashlyn. Her eyes flick up to the treehouse and she grins at the one hiding up there.

Bishop jumps a half step back at the sudden explosion of moisture bomb that erupts in front of Ashlyn. The sidekick, or couch bum, or whatever you want to call it frowns, looks at Ashlyn then he stoops over and shoves his hand into some of the snow along the path, rounding it up into a ball and quickly, launches it towards the tree house. As he brushes his hands off, he looks at Ashlyn. "What?"

Torres follows along, curious eyes sweeping the landscape before centering on the Tanner home. Shrugging into his duster as a cold breeze threads through, his eyes dart to the red flash above before a grin widens his face at the splash of water that misses Ashlyn.

Deco walks behind Delilah, his patient still, pushing her along in a wheelchair. He stops with the group, catching the horseplay ahead. He smiles. "Nice place she has here," he says to Delilah.

Delilah, pushed by Deco in her chair, is looking around at everything with a mixture of sorrow and wistfulness. She's playing with the locket around her neck absentmindedly, and she replies back to Deco with a murmur. "Yeah, it woulda been nice," and no explanation is offered for the change in tense. When the water balloon explodes by Ashlyn she squints, shielding her eyes with her hand and looking to the treehouse. "Guess that'd be her brother," she remarks, giving up on trying to see Drew and returning instead to gazing longingly at the mountaints, meadows, and house.

The slushy snowball clocks Andrew right in the side of the head. He yelps and dives back toward a cooler of water baloons stashed on the treehouse's bacony when a much younger man, looking not much older that Ashlyn herself bursts out of the front door with a super soaker in hand, one of those backpack mounted ones that just scream overkill no matter what the situation. "I swear ta god, Drew!" the new arrival yells, leveling the squirt gun at the man in the treehouse, who for his part still seems at war with himself as to weather or not to continue the assult with both snowball and squrtgun aimed against him. Finally he raises his hands in defeat. "I surrender," he calls down.

Ashlyn brushes at the water splashed on her pants and sticks her tongue out at Andrew, eyeing him warily. Totally not to be trusted, it seems. She reaches back for Bishop's hand, though, now that it seems proximity to her might not endanger the crew, smiling back at him. "Thanks," she says with a grin. She waves to the younger man energettically. "Heya, Ricky!" she calls. She looks back to the rest of the crew with a smile, but before introductions can be made, Armageddon seems to break loose as two beagles burst out of the snow drifts behind the house and charge Matty.

Matty's eyes flick from the treehouse toward the real one and back again for a few seconds. Then she gives a glance over toward Delilah, a look of concern passing her features, until the sound of barking come closer and the two beagles make an appearance. She laughs and goes down on one knee to greet them and is literally bowled over as the two dogs find themselves without purchase on a patch of ice, slipping and sliding straight into the XO. "Ooof! Good to see you too, guys," she laughs and sits back up, trying to give attention to both dogs with pats and scratches.

Bishop nods his head a bit towards Ashlyn but actually looks hesitant before taking her hand and swallowing. "Right. So if I don't make it out of this alive Ash? I love you...and you can have all my stuff. Except my bottle of rum. That goes to Torres."

For now, Torres makes like a spectator and watches the scene unfold, grinning. The beagles draw arched brow from the gunhand, and their victim is plain to see, Torres turning to Matty. Bishop's comment deserves a look, and Torres grins to him. "Too kind, Bishop."

The doctor's eyes narrow at the charging dogs, then Deco's smile returns when he sees the happy effect they have on Matty.

The dogs attacking Matty and the water fight rouse Delilah from whatever depressive thoughts she was thinking, and she begins to half-snicker at the sight of hard-ass Matty /playing/ with a pair of dogs, but she catches herself and bites her cheeks in to stop the laughing. She glances at Ricky, and her eyes flick up to his red-toned hair, and a small breath escapes her lips before she twists around in her chair, trying to see around Deco, likely to glance at the road leading to the ship, or better yet, from it.

"Aw, I love you t-AK!" Ashlyn gets out before the rest of the pack rounds to corner in a frenzy of joyful barking and she's taken out by two border collies, a scruffy looking brown mutt, and a St. Bernard. "Sit! Sit!" she yells as she goes down. She scrabbles for a handful of snow, lobbing the hastily constructed snowball out toward the field. It disentegrates a short distance into it's flight, but the dogs seem fooled as they race off into the pasture after it. Brushing herself off as she sits in the damp dirt of the path, she looks up at Bishop with a smile. "I'm not sure if I ain't less likely ta get killed," she chuckles.

Andrew drops the cooler over the side of the treehouse, and while it pops open on impact, splashing a few balloons, it is indeed still packed with water balloons as if he were preparing for a siege. He drops down after it rather roughly, a wide grin on his face as he brushes back his frizzy brown hair with one hand, extending his right to Torres who just happens to be the closest. "Hello, I'm Drew," he says in a voice that sounds far to innocent not to be up to something. Ricky lowers his water pistol and smiles to the assembled people. "Why don't ya all come in outta the cold?" he asks.

Torres tests his Spot against a 30 difficulty. The result is successful (35).

Matty continues sitting on the road for a few more minutes, calming the dogs into a reasonable state of calmness before she gets back on her feet, a smile still playing across her lips, but then the two beagles set off after the other dogs and she just shakes her head. "Y'know.. I reckon that trainin' we gave 'em was a complete waste o' time..." she notes and looks over toward Andrew as he drops out of the tree with a cooler full of water balloons. And she stands well back from him, moving into a stance that will give her a quick way to dodge any and all balloons coming at her.

Bishop reaches a hand down towards Ashlyn as she gets pounced, speaking quietly. "I was gonna tell you by the way, your plan with Mira worked. Her parents sent me a wave and they picked her up on Persephone, gonna try to get her some help." A random statement but best made before it is forgotten so that everyone 'knows' what happened there. "Now let's go puppy chow, up and out of that dirt."

Torres' eyes widen at Drew's arsenal once it's sent crashing down to the ground. "That was one prepared position," he says to the boy. Torres receives the boy's hand in a handshake after a delay and flicker of eyes. When Torres jerks back his hand, saying, "Oh, ya got me, boy!" there's something just a little too predisposed to his manner.

Deco of a sudden rubs Delilah's shoulder lightly, having caught a wisp of her mode. Glancing down at her, he says quietly, "How you holding up?"

Delilah turns from surveying the road to whisper to Deco quickly before remarking in a louder voice, "I'm alright. It's jus'...you know." She lets out another hard breath and leans back in her chair again, watching everyone else interact with the newcomers, be they dog or human. "Might'a been a mistake," she mumbles.

You whisper, "I don't think Talon's comin'." to Torres.

Ashlyn grins as she takes Bishop's hand and lets him pull her up out of the dirt. "That's good," she says with a relieved sigh in her voice, looking at Bishop rather than the opening front door and whoever might be opening it. "I'm glad that-Oof!" And Ashlyn's very nearly taken out again as a young girl with braided pigtails bowls into her. "Hi, Ginger," she gasps.

Ginger wraps her arms around Ashlyn's middle while still at full velocity. "Aunt Ashlyn!" she yells. "Yer back! We expected ya yesterday! Were there pirates?! Did ya get held up by pirates?!" She opens her eyes and spots Matty, her huge brown eyes going even wider. "Aunt Ashlyn, it's the scary lady!" she says in a whisper that really isn't all that quiet. Then to Delilah, Torres, and Deco, who she hasn't yet met, the girl waves sheepishly from behind Ash.

"Usually I just drop Ashlyn in the horse trough, but right now it's frozen o'er," Andrew tells Torres as pulls the electric buzzer off his palm and stashes it in his pocket just as Ricky brings up the water pistol again and blasts his older brother in the back of the head. "I told you, gorram it!" Ricky yells. "None a yer tricks!" And Andrew's off like a shot around the corner of the house, his little brother taking a few steps after and taking a few more pot shots at him until he's gone. He turns back to the crew and says to everyone, though it's mostly directed at Torres, "Sorry."

Matty turns a look over toward Delilah, that look of worry crossing over her face again. But then there are more family members coming to join them and this one she's met before. Her face falls into a mock-harsh expression as she turns toward Ginger and just stares at her, head dipping forward a little. "Still wanna meet pirates, Ginger? I reckon I can probably introduce ya to one o' two o' them.." she starts and then gives a light shrug, all casual-like. "'course, I can't guarantee that you'll come back here in one piece."

Bishop blinks as Ashlyn goes down again and cannot help himself. He chuckles a bit and shakes his head. Looking around, the man puts his hands into his pockets, yes pockets of his pants that he actually wore today, the ones Matty got him. "Festive bunch." He comments dryly.

There's a toothy grin on Torres' face as he watches Ricky chase after Drew. Ricky's apology is quickly met with a wave of Torres' hand and a dismissive shake of his head, but he says nonetheless to Ricky, "Plug 'em a few times fer me." Ginger's arrival is next on the gunhand's greet menu, and he smiles to Ashlyn's niece.

Deco nods to Delilah's words, smiling as he watches the craziness that are kids. Looking back at her with his smile diminished from concern, he asks, "Would you like to go back?"

Delilah catches Matty noticing her, but nothing comes of it as the older woman turns away. "I don't know," she answers Deco truthfully. "I think I'm okay so far. I'll let ya know, alright?" The water fight is begun anew, and she watches it, staring at Ricky and Drew with a feigned interest, and a miserable/panic expression on her face. "Long as nobody looks too much like 'im...an' they don't know anythin' 'bout me...I might be okay."

Ashlyn ruffles Ginger's hair a little. "Yeah, festive," she says, smiling up at Bishop and tilting her head against his shoulder as she disengages from her niece. She takes Ginger by the shoulders and drags her out from hiding behind her. "Everone, this is Tony's girl, Ginger," she says with a smile. "Ya might know her from the story `bout the kid who stowed away on the Theory last Summer?" Her smile widens into a grin and she turns back to Bishop. "Lets get inside `fore everone pours out an' I get knocked down again. My folks're dyin' ta finally meet ya." She watches Ricky chase off Andrew, laughing and takes a few steps toward the door.

Ricky pumps the pressurizer on the super soaker once casting another threatening look in the direction Andrew vanished in, then turns and pours out the water balloons into the snow, popping them one by one and thus destroying the arsenal. "Da ain't here right now," he calls to Ashlyn. "He's in town. Should be back tonight. Only Mom, Mike, an' Laura are in there." He says it like he feels that the house is underpopulated with this amount of people in it.

Matty gives a wink to Ginger and then starts sidle over toward Delilah and Deco, her hands disappearing into her pockets now that the threat of Andrew and his water balloons has gone away. She gives the doctor a quick glance, then turns to the chef with a soft smile. "Ya okay, Del?" she asks in a low voice and gives a glance toward the house, then back to the woman, her smile turning a bit sombre. "We can head back to the ship if ya want?"

Bishop looks a little bit paler until he hears that Ash's dad ain't around and then he seems to relax. "Right uhm. Yeah, meetin' everyone. Cheerio." He says in a very forced upbeat tone. He glances at Ricky with the supersoaker and offers a slight smirk of amusement after a moment before continuing to essentially use Ashlyn as a shield from the family.

Torres says, "Ginger. Pleasure meetin' ya. Geez, you're as big as yer aunt. You could be the next captain, since ya already put some time as crew, dontcha think?"

Deco squeezes Delilah's shoulder reassuringly, and says, "Alright. Just let me know." He smiles to Ginger, offering a little wave in greeting before returning both hands to the wheelchair's handgrips. Matty's presence beside the doctor results in downcast eyes directed forward.

Delilah notes Deco's tension when Matty comes near, and she peers from the doctor to the XO, possibly expecting something to be said. When Deco remains quiet, she focuses on Matty and replied in a soft voice, "I dunno, Matty. I'll let y'all know, alright? I promise." And with that, she's peering behind her at the road again.

Ashlyn finally manages to note Delilah's discomfort in the rush of family and dogs, but with both Matty and Deco already speaking with her, all she offers is a reasuring smile in her direction, then turns the same smile to Bishop. "They'll like ya," she says confidently taking his hand if he lets her and heading into the house.

Ginger's eyes light up when Torres speaks. "I /did/ mop the cargo bay!" she says proudly, hooking a finger toward herself. Then her eyes dart to Matty and she seems to shrink a little. But she continues almost defiantly, "I could be a captain some day! I'd fight pirates, too!" Ricky smirks and shakes his head a little at Ginger's comments, then begins following his sister inside.

For those that follow her into the farm house, they would find a bright and airy room, large windows opening to face East and looking out over the long dirt path to the main road through the town. Yellow curtains that only look a little singed are drawn back to the sides of each window and frost lines the panes of glass. The kitchen sits against one side of this large room, which also houses a big wooden table surrounded by ladder-backed chairs and a collection of couches surrounding a holovid. Two hallways lead back into the depths of the house. An older woman, much taller than Ashlyn but with the same dark blue eyes is busy in the kitchen, and the room smells like baking cookies. A man and a woman in their mid twenties sit on a couch, chatting quietly, the woman looking about seven months pregnant. The hollovid seems to have been left on a cartoon channel and a rather obnoxious song is playing as cartoon pirates dance across the screen.

Matty takes a hand out of her pocket and puts it on Delilah's shoulder for a moment. She gives Deco a look and just gives him a slight smile, then nods to Delilah. "A'right," she says to Delilah and squeezes her shoulder, then takes her hand away, putting it back in the pocket. "Jus'.. Y'know.. Ya don't gotta be here if ya don't wanna."

Bishop follows Ashlyn in, he doesn't have much choice in the matter but she could easily feel the squeeze upon her hand of nerves as he walks in. Oh hey, look, Ashlyn's mother. And some people on a couch one of which is knocked up. Tilting his head he speaks quietly. "It ain't mine." Instincts kicking in.

Torres follows the group indoors, a glance back at Deco and Delilah before falling to Matty with a distracted grin, then he steps through the threshold.

Deco stops at the porch before the door and leans over a little to ask Delilah, "Feel better sittin', or ya want ta try walkin' till ya find a seat inside?" He glances to Matty in hopes she might assist should it be needed.

Delilah pauses a moment to think about it, and then nods slowly. She braces her arms on the wheelchair's armrests and begins to pull herself up slowly. Once on her feet, she begins a slow shuffle forward, which probably looks painfully slow, but it's much faster than she was moving the night Mira showed up. She does alright, maintaining her balance without needing assistance, until she reaches the inside of the house, and her eyes fall on the man at the table - who looks like James, only a few years younger. This, plus the pregnant woman beside him, is nearly too much for her, and she scrambles behind her for Deco's support, biting her bottom lip hard to keep from crying out.

"I know, Matty," she responds to Matty quietly, "But I think this's somethin' I gotta do." Delilah pauses a moment to think about it, and then nods slowly. She braces her arms on the wheelchair's armrests and begins to pull herself up slowly. Once on her feet, she begins a slow shuffle forward, which probably looks painfully slow, but it's much faster than she was moving the night Mira showed up. She does alright, maintaining her balance without needing assistance, until she reaches the inside of the house, and her eyes fall on the man at the table - who looks like James, only a few years younger. This, plus the pregnant woman beside him, is nearly too much for her, and she scrambles behind her for Deco's support, biting her bottom lip hard to keep from crying out. REPOSE

Ashlyn squeezes Bishop's hand back with a smile. "I know," she says. "It's Mike's" She raises her hand to wave at the two on the couch. "Hi, Mike! Hi, Laura! How you feelin? Mom, are you makin' those things with the almonds?" She's all smiles as she steps into her home totally at ease, but her hand remains firmly around Bishop's, fingers curled between his. "Everone, this is my mom, Lacy, an' that's my second to youngest brother, Mike, an' his wife, Laura." She turns around and begins pointing one by one to the people who accompanied her in. "Family, this is Matty, Delilah, Torres, Deco, an' Bishop." The last is said with a snuggle against Bishop's shoulder as if it weren't obvious which among them was her fiance. Her eyes catch on Delilah again and cast over to Mike and his wife.

Ricky and Ginger join them in the front room. Ricky unslings the water tank and passes Lacy in the kitchen to drain it into the sink while Ginger happily hops back to the couch to watch her cartoon. Lacy turns, all smiles as she takes off a pair of oven mits and sets them on the counter. "Well it's a right pleasure ta finally meet ya all. An' especially you, Bishop. Ashlyn's told me a lot `bout you." Lacy's eyes fall on Delilah. "Oh, my. Are you all right dear? Are you injured?" Mike stands up from where he's sitting on the couch, motioning for Laura to stay sitting. His wife rolles her eyes and gets up anyway. He smirks and takes her hand as they join the gathering, nodding in greeting and smiling, but not offering anything yet but pleasant greetings to everyone.

"Del..." Matty says as the chef gets up from the wheelchair, but she doesn't move to interfere but rather follows close enough to be able to catch her if she should fall. She gives a glance around once inside, nodding a greeting at each of the people here, then reaches out to take Delilah's arm as she stumbles, whether the doctor is doing the same or not.

Bishop doesn't speak anything as far as greetings for a moment, instead blushing as he stays rather close to Ashlyn attempting not to look overwhelmed. Finally after a moment he speaks in quiet voice. "Jason. Call me Jason." He says towards Ashlyn's mother.

Torres nods, smiling to the rest of the Tanner family, his eyes taking in the house approvingly. His eyes dart to Delilah, but Deco and Matty seem to have things in order.

Deco is right behind Delilah, his hands gently bracing her shoulder. "It's alright," he murmurs. "Just find a seat, and we can settle a bit." To Lacy and Mike, Deco smiles, adding, "She's recovering from an injury. A little tender at the moment. Just need ta find her a place to rest, is all."

Delilah looks horrified at being noticed by the Tanner mother, and she just leans back against Deco for the moment being, waiting for a seat to be offered to her. She's not in danger of passing out, but she's still weak on her legs after the surgery, and seeing Mike has proven to be a bit more than her damaged self can handle and focus on walking at the same time. Giving Matty a quick glance as the XO holds onto her arm, she murmurs to her, "Chair. Please." She offers Lacy a half-strained smile, but it's pretty obvious that something is wrong, and she avoids looking at Mike and Laura completely. Lacy's lack of comment on her name tells her one thing, at least - no one here but the crew knows about what James meant to her?

Ashlyn grins slightly at Bishop's words, squeezing his hand again. She turns back to Delilah, then her mother. "Oh! Mom! The cookies!" she says, trying to direct a little attention away from her friend. A small bit of electronics on the kitchen table that look suspiciously like Andrew's joy-buzzer catches her eye. "Izzat Drew's?"

"Oh! Right! The cookies!" Lacy says, grabbing her oven mitts and pulling the baking tray out of the oven. Delilah might recognise them as the same cookies that Ashlyn got in the Thanksgiving care package. "Jason it is then. Now there's already a plate coolin' should be ready ta get inta'. Thank you Ricky," she says as Ricky locates the plate and offers it to everyon in the general vicinity. Ricky nods that the buzzer is indeed Andrew's. Mike and Laura have done the pleasant meet-and-greet and steer off back to the couch and out of the huge croud gathering in the kitchen.

Matty gives Delilah a nod and squeezes her arm a bit, giving a quick glace to Deco and one toward the door, unsure whether Delilah is wanting the wheelchair or just a normal one. "Why don't you come on in and take a seat in the living room, Del?" she suggests quietly, watching the chef carefully and sending her an encouraging smile.

"Whew." Bishop says in a quiet whisper to Ashlyn, "I thought she might try to hug me." He says and then motions to his back a bit. "Oh hey cookies. I made cookies once for Ashlyn, and no, they weren't laced with anything to knock her out." Then he laughs very awkwardly. It would not take a Rocket Surgeon to realize that Bishop is /beyond/ nervous.

Ashlyn snags Andrew's buzzer off the table, not letting go of Bishop's hand. Holding it in her teeth, she digs around in her pocket for a small screw driver. Gently pulling her hand out of Bishop's if he lets her, she sets to work on the item, though she remains standing very close to him as she begins dismantling and shifting components within the small machine, various tools popping out of her pocket as she goes, tools and components held between her teeth rather than going to a a table to work. She nearly chokes on a screw at Bishop's comment, bumping her shoulder against him softly and making a noise that's probably meant to be reasuring.

"Well I should hope not," Lacy says to Bishop. "Can't think of anythin' that'd do that and wouldn't mess with the bakin' soda." She hangs the oven mits back on the wall and moves to a bowl of cookie dough. Well when you're making cookies for a family the size of Ash's it takes a lot of cookies. "So Ashlyn, Jason, when are y'all plannin' on gettin' married?"

Ricky escapes the commotion of the kitchen as well, snagging a cookie off the plate and dropping the plate on the couch next to Ginger, looking up at the cartoon that has his niece so absorbed. "So this is what? The fourhundreth time ya seen this one?" he asks around a mouthful of cookie. Ginger sticks her tongue out at him. "Only the eleventh," she shoots back, taking a cookie. She turns to look at Delilah. "Did you get shot?"

Ashlyn tests her Repair:personal_equipment against a 40 difficulty. The result is successful (29).

Delilah nods at Matty and allows Deco to begin to lead her into the living room, though she stops short when she realizes Mike and Laura are headed there, as well. "Uhh...uhh...Can we -I'd like ta go ta the kitchen," she announces quickly. "See the cookies, maybe help." She begins to stumble along that way, calling over her shoulder when Ginger asks her a question. "Sure did..." She doesn't look back to identify the question-asker, just spits an answer out quickly and keeps backtracking to the kitchen chairs.

"Heh... Hehehe." Bishop chuckles as he stands there awkwardly, hands in his pockets as soon as Ashlyn releases him. "Uhm, we haven't said much, I don't think there's any rush, it's not like we have to do it in the next nine months or anything, am I right?" He laughs again awkwardly.

Matty is starting to look almost as uncomfortable as Delilah around here, but lets Deco take the chef to the kitchen anyway. She ambles after, eyes darting around at all the talking and jabbering and draws in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Y'know.. Mebbe I'll go have a look outside? Get a lay o' the land 'n stuff," she says and nods toward the door with a slightly nervous expression.

Ashlyn chuckles as she finishes rearranging the buzzer's innards and setting it back where she found it, the prongs now reversed to shock Andrew the next time it's used. "Nope, `cause I ain't knocked up," Ashlyn agrees with Bishop. She leans close and hugs him saying to him quielty, "It's a'ight, Love, really." She turns and nods to Matty, calling after her. "Look out fer Bruno. He still don't know not ta knock people down." She probably means the St. Bernard. At least one would hope, but knowing this family...

Lacy is busying herself with the cookie dough and seems just as unperturbed by Bishop's newest comment as she was by his mention of roofie cookies. "Well, then that's good. Got plenty a grandchildren already, anyway. Delilah, dear, of course!" she says as Delilah makes her way over. "There's always room fer help in this kitchen. But you got shot? Are you sure you don't wanna sit?"
Ginger is now up and hovering about as well, newley energised with sugar. "How'd ya get shot miss Delilah? Did you have an' adventure?" Ricky just looks back at the girl but descides to stay out of the trouble for now.

"Well yeah, of course Ash isn't pregnant. We're always safe. I pull out." Bishop blinks, swallows, pauses, "Pull out all the stops to let uhm... let your daughter know exactly how special she is." Red, blushing Bishop occurs with bright red cheeks. Again he swallows nervously.

Delilah gulps as Lacy speaks to her and silently nods, finally making it to the counter with Deco's help and leaning against it to support herself. "I'll be fine, I'd just like to help," she murmurs, trying very hard not to look at the woman who gave birth to James. She cringes when Ginger asks for details about her wound and glances helplessly at Ash, asking, "I ain't sure jus' what ta tell her 'bout that."

Matty starts off toward the door, then pauses a moment and turns back to the crowd of Tanners, her eyes falling on Ginger. "Hey, Ginny, why don't ya come show me around?" she calls, then lets a devious kind of smile cross her lips. "I can tell ya a few stories 'bout pirates if ya like. Real ones." She gives a look toward the cartoon, then looks back to Ginny with a raised brow, a challenging kind of expression in her eyes. Of course, her ulterior motive is to just get Ginger the hell out of here to stop her bugging Delilah.

Ashlyn takes one of Bishop's hands and squeezes it between both of her own. "Relax," she says with a smile. "I promise it's okay, okay?" She gets up on her toes and kisses his cheek lightly. She turns to Delilah and shrugs. "Ginger, lay off," she calls to the younger girl. "Go eat cookies an' watch cartoons like a normal kid." Despite the chiding there's fondness in her voice. When Matty speaks up she looks back at the kid. "It's true," she says. "She's seen real pirates."

Lacy seems to need a moment to consider how to respond to that one as she drops dough onto a greased cookie sheet. "Well, whichever one ya meant, that's good," she says. Silly man. Can't phase Ashlyn and is worried about phasing her family. "Ashlyn says you was a pilot on the Grace O'Malley?" She turns to Delilah, "Alright, dear, you take o'er this, an' I'll whip up another batch a dough. Yer the Theory's chef, right? How did all those things I sent ya work out?"

Ginger gives Delilah a considering look as if gauging weather or not there is a story worth knowing there, then bolts after Matty with all the energy of a thirteen year old with a sugar rush. "Have you ever met Frost? Does he have a parrot?" The flood of questions begin.

Bishop sighs softly at Ashlyn and shakes his head. "I'm trying to relax, really I just..." He looks past her and leans forward to whisper into Ashlyn's ear before looking at Ash's mother. "Uhm, yeah that's right. Used to fly it for them. I don't do much pilotin' anymore though to be honest."

Delilah finally catches onto the double meaning of Bishop's words and she turns around to give him, and Ashlyn, a very hard evaluating look before Lacy asks her about the care package, and the blood drains from her face. "I...it...they were - it turned out jus' fine?" she stammers, sounding more like she's asking the woman then telling her. "Guess ya'd have ta ask the crew 'bout that, though, ain't right fer me ta say my cookin' were good." She's almost completely white now, and she grips the wooden spoon Lacy hands her with white-knuckled hands, stirring it mechanically.

"Frost..? Aye, I've met Frost," Matty says, in a tone so confident and assured that it can only be true. She gives a nod over toward the Tanners and the crew and then turns to head out the door, presumably with Ginger following. "'n last time I saw 'im, he didn't have no parrot, but one o' his crew had a ..." Her voice fades away as she heads out the door, already sounding a bit impatient.

Ashlyn grins at whatever it was Bishop said to her, squeezing his hand again. She whisperes something back to him, giving him another kiss on the cheek just as she catches Delilah's apraising look, her own returning quite confused, head tilted just slightly in not understanding. "Thanksgivin' turned out great, Mom," she says. "Thanks fer sendin' all that stuff. So how's everybody been while I been away?"

Much like Delilah's father is everyone's father, Lacy seems to be everyone's mom, as she deposits her load of flour, sugar, eggs, and whatnot on the counter and goes to get Delilah a chair. "Dear, you look pale. Please at least sit?" To Ashlyn she says, "Wonderful. On both accounts, the food an' everone's health. So what is it ya do now, Jason?"

"Your Daugh..." Bishop pauses and coughs, "Your daughter has me just doing odd jobs around the ship whenever there's a need. For the most part I serve as emotional support I think?" He glances towards Ashlyn. A response that wasn't completely twisted for once.

Delilah sits in the chair offered and continues to stir, murmuring, "Thank you," to Lacy and shooting a nervous glance towards the living room, where Mike and Laura appear to be saying nothing at all.

Ashlyn smiles and whispers something to him again accompanied by another squeeze of his hand. She turns to Lacy. "Mom, it's a'ight, you don't gotta fuss so much! You'll... you'll hurt yer back or somethin'. I can fuss o'er /you/. Don't make me fuss o'er /you/!" she threatens.

Lacy rolls her eyes at Ashlyn's paltry threat. "Now, that ain't hardly intimidatin' compared ta some a the stuff you done ta me in the past. Remember the robot spider? Delilah, I can't tell you how happy I was ta hear someone like you joined the Theory, you know. Ash's told me a lot `bout you, too, an' it's been nothin' but good things." She smiles at Bishop's response. "Well that's good, it seems like the Theory's a lot more hazardous than Ash lets on. That's right, I /know/ most a what happens no matter how much you or yer brothers try an' keep me outta the loop," Lacy says to Ashlyn with a motherly smile as she goes back to mixing up another batch of dough.

Mike, Laura, and Ricky aren't being entirely silent, really, they're just in their own conversation that's beeing muffled by the cartoons Ginger left playing. Laura notices Delilah glancing over and waves before turning to say something to her husband lost in the racket of the holovid.

Bishop nods his head towards Ashlyn. "Yeah, that might not be a half bad idea." He looks over to Ashlyn's mother with a smile. "Ash I'm sure exagerates some. I'm pretty sure she has a biased opinion on the matter."

Delilah gets even more pale, if possible, when Lacy mentions that she's heard things about Delilah, and she ducks her head down, causing her hair to fall forward a bit and shield her from Lacy's view. "Ain't much ta tell," she whispers, mindlessly stirring the dough. Laura's wave is lost in her panic over what Lacy might/might not already know.

Ashlyn nods to Bishop. "Mom, might as we all should prob'ly head back ta the ship soonish? `For it gets dark? I can come back when Da gets home. It's been a long trip, y'know?" She turns to Delilah as she leans a little against Bishop. "Delilah, you wanna head out with us?" It might be noted that she doesn't make any denials about the danger on the ship and the look exchanged between her and her mother makes it clear that they are indeed both fully aware of something terrible that's recently happened on board.

Lacy frowns a little and sighs once the look and the not mentioning of her oldest son is over. Astute observers might guess that she knows at least some of the story if not all of it. Then she's smiling again and nodding. "A course. You sure ya don't wanna stay in yer old room, though? Ain't no one touched it at all. An' we got plenty a guest rooms, too, y'all don't gotta go back ta the ship if ya don't wanna."

Bishop looks at Lacy then Ashlyn, then back to Lacy and shrugs his shoulders. "Up to you darlin'." He says quietly to her.

Delilah glances back to Ashlyn and says in a near-hysterical voice, "Ship, please." She hands the over-stirred bowl of dough to Lacy and remarks quietly, "Sure was nice ta meet ya," before giving Deco a 'look' and waiting for him to hustle over from his post nearby and escort her out of the way in the kitchen towards the door. She doesn't exit, however, waiting for Ashlyn and Bishop to make their choice and lead the way.

Ashlyn watches Delilah a little worriedly, then turns back to her mother with a nod. "Feel more at home on the Theory, honestly," she says with a smile. "An' the bed's bigger." She hugs Bishop with one arm as she says it. It's not like after this visit that's going to be the most explicit thing her mother's heard, and one is forced to wonder, how far would they have to go before she cared, anyway? "I'll drop by later tonight, okay? Catch up with Da." She lets go of Bishop and heads toward Delilah.

"You never were at home on the ground," Lacy replies, waving farewell to Ashlyn and co. "An'd it was nice meetin' all a you as well!" she calls. "Especially you, Jason. Was beginin' ta think we'd never meet ya."

"Heh, I wouldn't let that happen. You uhm... we'll see you later, Mrs Tanner." Bishop says sounding more like the neighborhood kid asking if Ashlyn can come out and play.

Delilah waits for Deco to grab the wheelchair for her and she sinks into it, while he begins to push her once Ashlyn and Bishop are close enough out the door. Delilah is mumbling under her breath, too low for anyone but Deco to possibly hear.

Ashlyn and Delilah Settle Some Things - IC Time: Feb 09, 2522 - 18:43:38

2008-01-09T16:32:51Z

Chaos Theory - Passenger Cabin 4 =>Chaos Theory - Firefly-03<=
==============================================================================
Delilah's cabin has an instant home feeling once inside the doorway. The walls are covered with recipes, sketches of her home town on Lilac, letters her family has written her, sheet music of her favorite songs, and a few reprinted posters from various old Earth-that-was movies, TV serials, and theatrical shows.
There is a storage unit on the left side of the wall. The doors are usually shut, but stacked on top of the unit are as many cookbooks as possible. A desk is opposite the storage unit, where vid-captures of Delilah's mother, father, and other immediate family sit on display.
Delilah's bed is covered by a handmade quilt in hues of cream and peach, with two head pillows and a throw pillow to match.
==============================================================================

Delilah's cabin door is open, revealing her laying propped up on her bed, with a bible in her lap. There's a glass of water on the nightstand next to her, where a huge vase holding a large bunch of yellow roses has also been placed. She's not in a medical gown anymore, but a comfortable pair of pajama pants, and a tank top. Her locket is around her neck, and her hair is braided into pigtails.

Ashlyn can be heard outside Delilah's doors for a moment before she actually knocks. The captain still hasn't given up on wearing the heavy-treaded steel-toed boots even now that she no longer has to worry about engine parts dropping on her or grease spills tripping her, and can thus be heard a ways off on the steel plating of the deck. "You look better," she remarks as she appears. Her eyes cast over to the vase of roses and she smiles. "I was wonderin' if now was a good time for stories?"

Delilah looks slightly disappointed when Ashlyn's voice reaches her - perhaps she thought the heavy steps meant someone else was coming? "Hey, Cap'n," she calls, gently placing a ribbon in her Bible to mark her place, and shutting the book to place it beside the flowers. "I feel a bit better. It's hard ta say. Some days I jus' feel like I oughta lay here an' never get up, an' some days I feel like I gotta be anywheres but in this room." She pauses for a second, tracing a line on her quilt comforter with a contemplative expression on her face. "So, Bish's married?" she finally asks, glancing up from her blanket tracing to peer at her friend. "How long ya known that?"

"It's a long story, this confusion `bout the marriage," Ashlyn says. And possibly one she's prepared to talk about in detail, as she reaches back to close the doors to Delilah's room. "He ain't married in the techinal sense," she continues. "He was engaged ta her at one point I s'pose would be the easiest way ta say it." She turns and casts about for a place to sit, then settles for leaning back against the wall, arms folded loosely across her middle. "He told me `bout her last spring, so I've known fer a while. Didn't thinks she'd ever turn up, so didn't give it a second thought."

Delilah looks really, really confused. "Bishop was.../dating/ her?" she squeaks. "But she's...awful. Really awful, Ash. And she looks like she's - well, y'know. With a lot of people. Oh! You don't think he's..." Her voice dips down to a conspiratorial whisper. "He's.../been/ with her? She jus' seems like the kind that...well. I suppose it ain't none of my business, really. I jus' don't want ta see ya get hurt, Ash. I really don't. She was jus' so...mean. Ain't nobody ever said vicious things like that ta me ever. Why was she talkin' 'bout marriage papers if they weren't really married?"

"He ain't ever slept with her," Ashlyn says, shrugging slighly. "An' I ain't the one worried o'er my own hurt." She sighs slightly and looks down at her folded arms for a moment. "Few days back, Bishop got stabbed twice an' had two notes pinned ta him. One note said she wanted him back or she'd hurt him worse. The other was a marriage certificate she'd forged." She turns her head to look in the direction of her cabin, likely where Bishop is still sleeping, or already to bed, or practicing some other form of getting little accomplished. She smiles slightly before turning back. "An' it's made itself ship's buisness plenty, so go `head an' ask. I ain't hidin' nothin."

Delilah's eyebrows look like they're about to raise off her forehead and go soaring for parts beyond, they're so high. "Stabbed?" she whispers, her eyes growing huge. "She /stabbed/ him? That jus' don't make no kinda sense." It's a mark of how much she trusts Ashlyn's judgment or Bishop's character that not a word is breathed about the possibility that Bishop did marry this woman, and lied to Ashlyn about it. She simply takes it as fact, and moves on. "Well, what ya gonna do? Seems like she ain't givin' up, an' if somebody don't do somethin', Miya or Matty's like ta blow her brains out." She reaches out for her water, taking a quick sip, and setting it down where it was. "An' what 'bout yer weddin'? Ya look over what I gave ya? Need ta hurry on the bachelorette party, I suppose. An' Matty's room, promised her 'bout that back when she quit drinkin'."

"If'n Matty or Torres kill her, I can't say I'll be terribly upset," Ashlyn admits, though it doens't look like she likes it. "I've wanted ta see bad things come ta her since he told me what she did ta him. As ta what I'm gonna do, I reported her ta the feds like she said. Then as we were settin' off outta Persephone, I WAVed her folks an' told her where she was nice an' polite like, an' asked `em ta please come pick her up. The docks is dangerous fer a young lady, ya know?" she asks with a wink. "An' I read o'er the weddin' planner. That's a terrible complicted little book. Does it really need all that fuss?"

Delilah half-laughs at Ashlyn's solution for the Mira problem, but there is wedding talk afoot, and she is all business. "Well, no. It don't. Some of the fuss, ya hafta have. Ya jus' do. But a lotta things in there are jus' optional-like, an' ya can pick an' choose from those things. Didja like any of it, at least? Have any ideas? 'Bout where, or at least what kinda dress ya'd like?"

Ashlyn laughs softly. "I ain't one much fer dresses," she says. "I dunno even what I'm lookin' at. Maybe somethin' not terribly frilly an' lacy? Somethin' real simple works fer me." She shakes her head a little in bewilderment and shifts against the wall behind her. "Where? Hardly matters ta me. Could be the cargo bay fer all I care. I don't particularly think it matters in the long run. Long as he's there an' I'm there." She looks to Delilah. "An' I ain't got a chance ta ask ya yet, but will you be my Maid a Honor?"
Sure Feels Like Home Ashlyn says, "We ready to take off yet?>"

Delilah's mouth /drops/ and she just stares at Ashlyn, with no words coming out of her mouth. Silently, she begins to struggle to stand off of her bed, raising a hand in a 'no' gesture should Ashlyn step forward and try to help her. Once on her feet, she slowly struggles across the room, likely to still refuse help. Her movements are precarious and look painful, but she finally crosses the room and throws her arms around Ash (assuming she's allowed), a sob escaping her attempt to hold it in. "Ya want /me/ ta be yer Maid of Honor?" she says in a trembling whisper. "Of course. Of course. Of course. Yer...yer my best friend, Ashlyn Tanner. Ain't nothin' I wouldn't do fer ya."

Ashlyn does shift slightly as Delilah moves, but stays where she is. And the hug is not only accepted, but returned. Carefully. "Who else?" she chuckles slightly. "I already told ya yer my sister. Ain't never called no one that b'fore ya know? Speakin' a my family," she says, seeing if she can't disengage the hug enough to get the injured woman back to bed, "We're on our way ta Hera now. Well, so ta speak. Technically, we're on our way ta Ezra, then Verbena, /then/ Hera. You still wanna meet my folks?"

Delilah allows herself to be ushered back to the bed, and she spends a quiet moment re-situating herself back to the perfectly propped pillows. "I...do," she says carefully. "I really do. But, I don't think they're gonna understand why meetin' them means a lot ta me, an' will probably break m'heart, too. I doubt he wrote yer Ma everyday tellin' her 'bout how he felt. So it'll be a bit awkward there, plus - y'know. Talon. Oh, Ash..." She trails off, going back to tracing a line on the comforter with a finger. "I'm barely holdin' it tagether as it is. I still hafta count numbers in my head sometimes ta keep me from jus' sittin' here starin' at the wall again. I feel like I'm made'a some thin glass, what could break an' shatter iffn' jus' the right thing were said or done. An' I don't wanna cause yer family any more stress an hurt than they already have had ta deal with." Delilah sighs and turns to stare at her flowers, with her face away from Ash. "I wish I knew what ta do. I wish I knew what my heart was tryin' ta tell me."

Ashlyn shrugs easily. "Yer talkin' ta someone with a lot a experience with broken things. Everythin' can break, don't mean everthin' will. Don't mean everthin' can't be fixed," she says, walking with Delilah over to the bed and finding a new wall to lean against. "An' don't worry `bout my family. They've done their grievin' by now same as I have. They wanna meet us. Only ever met Suji. Haven't even met Bishop yet. As ta what yer heart's tryin' ta tell you," Ashlyn shrugs again with a smile. "I can't tell ya. But yer lookin' at that vase a roses an awful lot."

Delilah gives the roses another once-over, along with that sigh only people in love and in pain can make. "I am lookin' at 'em a lot," she admits, reaching out to tweak a petal straight. "They're awfully pretty. An' musta cost a fortune. An' he ain't never done somethin' like that afore, so I jus' don't know how ta take it. Ain't had a chance ta really talk ta him since he brought me inside after Mira left. But I jus' feel so guilty, an' so confused. I don't feel like I can rely on everyone in the ship right now," she offers honestly. "I don't think Matty wants me ta be any different than I am. She acts threatened when I bring it up. An' you...Ash, I love you. But I got back an' James was gone, an' ya never came ta talk ta me 'bout it, ya didn't even seem bothered. Like he went on another vacation to Jiangyin an' you'd see him soon. I don't know how ta handle that, I don't know what ta think 'bout that, an' it bothered me for a long time." Her voice shakes as she admits this, but she's fighting to get it under control, and not to cry as usual.

"An' I ain't sayin' this is fair. But you were right the other night. I am angry that y'all were here when he went an' I weren't. That I didn't get ta say goodbye, that I didn't get ta be there when he was buried. That I didn't get ta wash the engine room down with ya, that I didn't get ta tell him that I think...that I think I loved him." Well. Now she is crying, and there doesn't appear to be much she can do about the slow tears running down her cheeks. "An' maybe that Preacher was right, maybe God don't care 'bout who ya slept with, maybe He does. It don't make no sense that a Preacher would say somethin' like that, when it goes 'gainst everythin' I ever were taught. But Talon's had other women, ones he didn't even love, ones he says he can't even remember. An' that jus' leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I been savin' myself all my life fer the man I loved more'n anythin'...am I really gonna give that ta somebody who had his fun whenever an' with whoever he wanted?" Delilah begins wiping her face, and she looks drained after admitting so many things.

"Death ain't nothin' but a part a life," Ashlyn says with another shrug, finding some tissues and offering them over. "It weren't that I weren't sad. I don't want ya ta think that. It hurt. But if there is a heaven, that's where he is lookin' down. He wouldn't want ta see me cry o'er him. You, neither." She pauses for a long while as she digests the rest of it. "Ya know what don't hardly seem fair ta me? That God would make rules that by followin' ya only feel hurt. If God's benevolent, he wants ya ta be happy. Do what makes ya happy. You wanna be with Talon, be with Talon. He seems a good enough guy. Besides. You think everyone who tells ya `bout God's spoke with him recently? It's all our own interpretation how we see the universe."

Delilah protests, "But it ain't like that, really. I mean, God loves you even if ya do horrible things all the time an' never do anythin' good or nice or right. But it jus' ain't fair fer Him ta say, I'll give you Heaven iffn' ya do what I ask of ya, an' then feel bad at the last second an' let people in anyways who never gave him a second thought. God does want me ta be happy, but what if I thought that gettin' drunk an' whorin' around were what made me happy? That ain't right. He sets His standard of right in front of us, an' says, 'Try yer best ta do what I ask. I know yer gonna have hard times along the way, but jus' try yer best, an' I'll know if ya ain't.' An' that's all I want. Ta try my best. I don't think I'm goin' ta hell iffn' I get drunk or whatever. But I do think that if I ever stop makin' mistakes an' start makin' /choices/ ta be bad, that's a different story." She glances over to her Bible, and smiles a sad little grin. "All I got ta predict future behavior with is past behavior. An' if ya look at it that way..will he really value me, when he was willin' ta offer somethin' sacred an' special ta girls he can't even remember 'bout? I hafta look at his character an' figure him out, cuz Lord knows he barely lets me know him on his own." She turns back to Ashlyn and grins. "Sure would make cute babies though...don't ya think?"

Ashlyn chuckles slightly at the last. "I can't say I know anythin' `bout Talon an' how he handles his love life. Ta some people it's sacred, ta some it's biological. An' ta most it's somewhere in the middle. But I can't imagine any a yer kids wouldn't be cute. An' speakin' a babies," she says with a grin, "I'm gonna have a nephew in three months."

Delilah sighs. "That's my problem. I really, really think I love him, Ash. I really do. But it makes no sense ta me, cuz any time we start talkin' 'bout feelin's and emotions, suddenly he's got some urgent thing, and he runs away. How can I be in love with a man like that? Other night in the medbay was the most he ever talked to me 'bout his 'pinions on things, and that was only cause Matty was outside the door with a drawn an' loaded gun." She thunks her head against the headboard of the bed at the end of this rant, though she does quirk a little grin at Ash's news. "I remember, ya told me way back when. How's she doin', pregnancy goin' well an' all?"

Ashlyn just shrugs again at everything about Talon. "Don't have ta make sense. Bishop an' I make much sense?" She shakes her head a little as if even she doesn't understand. "Ya love who ya love. An' as fer Mary, she's good. Sick all the time an' her back hurts, but mostly just ta make Mike fawn o'er her I think," she chuckles. "But I got stuff ta do it seems. Feels like we just landed. Ezra's a place ta get yer buisness done an' be off." She turns and starts toward the door. "Be happy ta pick up where we left off when I get back."

Delilah Meets Mira - IC TIME: Feb 8, 2522

2008-01-09T16:23:54Z

You are entering Eavesdown Docks - Persephone.
Eavesdown Docks - Persephone(#4562RnM^) =>Persephone<=
==============================================================================
This lesser kept portion of Persephone's port city is home to legions of disenfranchised entrepreneurs, each tent or stall vying with the next in line. Vendors shout their own particular brand of advertisements or allow the pyres of smoke from their grills to do the advertising for them. Practitioners of every walk of life fill the dirt-covered roads, buying and selling goods of every imaginable value. There are cargo containers stacked in high hills throughout the area creating a set of walls for the outdoor market with exits and entrances to each of the landing platforms that circumnavigate the area outside of the Market. Eavesdown is not well kept, as is a common Spaceport, and the lack of tarmac proves a disruptive force whenever a ship engages its powerful engines: kicking up the red dirt of the port relentlessly. To the Northeast, a section between two landing platforms begins the road to the Spacer's District, where those who are less restricted to Eavesdown may find additional business options.
==============================================================================

The evening is cool, well cool for Eavesdown docks at least with the comforting closing of the day filtering into the sparkling sky lit night. It almost seems peacefully quiet and serene considering the normal busy that surrounds the ship, but oddly an almost 'yard' around the Chaos exists due to crates and other objects that keep the vessel in a quiet cornered state.
They watch. They never cease to watch.

Ashlyn drags a folded wheelchair up to the hatch, leaning it against the wall. She looks a little winded from having draged it down the stairs. Not really one for hauling about still it seems, but better her then Delilah. Ashlyn looks back over her shoulder at the other woman with a smile. "If I'd known ya wanted ta be up an about fer some fresh air," she says, "I woulda parked us somewhere with, y'know... fresh air."

Delilah nods quietly to Ashlyn, but is focused more on putting one foot together in front of the other than she is on small talk. The redhead is very unstable with her steps, and wobbles with each one, which gives the impression that it's a miracle she remains vertical at all. "This is jus' fine," she remarks, cringing as she nearly falls down on the next step, but manages to right herself in time. "Air don't matter as much as bein' mobile does."

Talon arrives from Chaos Theory - Cargo Bay.
Talon has arrived.

"Couldn't stay still even half that long when I got shot," Ashlyn admits. "That's why it scared up like it did. I was out a the bed soon as I woke up." The weelshair she's hauled down the stairs slides a little against the wall and she hurriedly corrects it before it can fall, leaning up next to it against the doorway seperating the cargo bay from the falling dusk outside, folding her arms over her chest as she waits for Delilah to catch up to her.

Talon comes into the Docks and heads straight for the Chaos Theory. He holds a bouquet of yellow roses in his hand, and takes every pain to make sure no snatching hand, no bumping shoulder, and no curious woman gets ahold of them or even gets close to them as he threads through the crowds like a football player in slow-motion. "Delilah!" he calls out, picking up the pace a bit. "Wait!"

Delilah turns very, very, /very/ slowly when she hears her name called, considering the fact that she's moving at a snail's pace to begin with. Turning on a dime is a long ways away. "Talon?" she calls out, squinting her eyes and trying to make sense of the yellow blur weaving in and out of people towards her. "Ash? Is that Talon? Is he...carrying /flowers/?" The word 'flowers' is said in a squeak of disbelief. "Oh, God. Oh, God! He's got flowers! He loves me!" She turns her head to glance at the young Captain, a shade of the old beaming grin on her face. "He loves me!"

"AwwwwwwwwwwWWWWWW" The voice sounds from near some crates, a darker area with the long shadows of the evening concealing it but the tone is definately female and overly sarcastic. "How utterly adorable and sweet."

Ashlyn turns as she hears Talon's voice, looking at him once before turning her attention to Delilah, waiting to see if this is something she should be excusing herself from. A man /did/ just show up with roses after all. "Yes, yes, an' it's possible?" she says uncertainly. But Delilah's not telling her to slam the hatch and the old charming smile is very much disarming and contagious. Her growing smile is cut short by a familiar voice that Talon and Delilah might guess from the expression on her face, belongs to someone she's not terribly thrilled to know. If any further proof is needed, her hand moves to her lightfoot, resting on it for now.

It is an odd sight to see a former Sergeant bearing such innocent flowers; but it's somehow made less odd by the fact that Talon is so obviously uncomfortable carrying the damn things that he just doesn't know what to do with them. He catches up with Delilah and Ashlyn, and holds out the roses to the former. "Delilah. I got these for you. I didn't mean to leave the way I did the other night, and I said a lot of things poorly. Look, can we just..." And then he pauses in his verbal diarrhea to see that Ashlyn has a hand resting on her weapon. Talon has, in his running and the chaos of his mind, missed the voice from the shadows, and from his reaction now thinks that Ashlyn is going to shoot him if he doesn't leave Delilah alone. "Captain Ashlyn, this isn't... I haven't come to make more trouble, I just want to apologize for before..." he stammers, almost boyishly.

Delilah completely misses the voice as well. She's focused on not falling on her ass in front of Talon, on the flowers he's holding out to her, and she simply doesn't hear it, or it doesn't register as being directed towards her. "For me?" she breathes, taking them softly from his hand and burying her face in them, breathing deep. "I love them!" she exclaims, and seems likely to continue in the same vein when Talon stammers at Ashlyn, and Delilah catches sight of the Captain and the pre-attack pose she's adopted. "Ash, it's alright," she reassures, thinking the same as Talon. "He didn't know I ripped stitches when he left last time, it weren't his fault."

"Oh, it's so precious. Precocious little scamps." The words of the feminine, sultry voice are heard before a figure emerges from the shadows of crates fully, wearing jeans that are far to tight and hang very low to the point where imagination is not needed to tell undergarments are not worn at all and the curves of sensitive areas on full view. A shirt, again worn with the obvious intent to reveal no undergarments adorns her top as the red-headed woman looks first at Ashlyn, rolling her eyes, then back towards Talon and Delilah, speaking in a sing song voice. "I brought you flowers... now you'll kiss me, and our lives will be oh so perfectly happy until I find something better in about a day."

Ashlyn is very much not looking at Talon as he speaks. Neither does Delilah manage to catch her attention as she backs up the man with the flowers. "You seem ta ferget the threat I made last time we crossed paths," Ashlyn growls, taking a step to place herself between the new arival and Delilah, and by extent Talon as well. "Yer by my ship, Mira."

"You ripped /stitches/?" Talon exclaims, taking a step back and looking her over. "I /told/ you, and Matty told you to stay still, but you are just so...!" He's cut off as the redhead emerges into view, her words fully heard and appreciated this time. His hand draws into his Duster as his feet widen a bit in stance. "Keep back... And please really do it," he whispers to Delilah, giving her an intense look before turning back to face the redhead, taking a step forward to be just beside and behind Ashlyn. The half-open Duster shows the weapon shoulder-holstered underneath, with Talon's hand gripping it.

"I was standin' right there when ya were walkin' away!" she returns at him, very flustered. "I was tryin' ta come after you, but ya left an' I couldn't get back in the bed by my - " She's cut off by the woman, and Talon's words/look, and snaps her mouth shut. Clearly, Delilah has not yet been brought up to speed on ship gossip, because she's got no idea who this person is, nor why Ash is threatening her. "Is she talkin' ta me...?" she asks no one in particular at first, listening to Talon and staying where she is, mostly because taking any steps anywhere would likely end in her falling to the ground.

"I ain't on your little rust bucket full o' morons." Mira says towards Ashlyn. "This here is public space. Don't like it, take it up with the Feds... oh... wait, that's right, you already went crying to them." Mira lifts her hands up and fakes rubbing her eyes, "Booohooo. Widdle Babwy Ashwynn had to go taddle. What, were you worried he'd jump ship knowing I was back in the game." The woman says it and shakes her eyes. Moving slowly, casually she passes by Talon and looks at him as well. "Eh... not my type. Tooo... what's the word I'm looking for." She holds up her hands about a foot apart then pulls them together. "Small." Finally the red headed woman looks to Delilah and shakes her head. "Yes I'm talking to you. Oh this one is precious. Give me an hour with her, we'll turn her into the local whore faster than ... well faster than when she does it naturally." The woman giggles at herself, obvoiusly amused before looking back at Ashlyn. "You have my goods all patched up?"

Ashlyn doesn't take her eyes off Mira as Talon steps up beside her, but the slight shift of her head as he speaks says she's aware that he's there. Her knuckles on the hilt of her gun are white, and she's practically shaking with anger. She moves as Mira does, keeping her in her sight. "Bishop's fine after ya had him stabbed twice, thanks fer askin'," Ashlyn says. "But it weren't so endeerin' as gesture as ta make one think he'd go anywhere with you." Her hand very slowly lets go of her gun, though it looks like it takes effort. "Though fer reasons I can't begin ta fathom he don't want me killin' you. He did, however, fail ta mention his oppinions on me doin' anythin' short a that."

Talon has no reaction to Mira's words to Ashlyn, himself, or Delilah. Though he does take in what Ashlyn says to the woman and understands that she's phrasing it a certain way so he knows what's going on, who this woman is, and what this situation is likely to become. Though Ashlyn takes her hand away from her weapon, he does not; though Ashlyn boils with the heat of rage, his eyes pierce with cold, aloof calculation, following Mira's movements. He looks much better with a pistol in hand than he does with roses. The former Sergeant is on home ground again.

Delilah turns bright red and squeaks, "She called me a /whore/?" So outraged is she at this accusation that she begins to sway on her feet, in danger of losing her balance to the weight of her wounded pride. "I'll have you know," she begins, struggling to stay upright, "That my Ma taught me ta keep my unmentionables outta plain sight, which yer Ma clearly never taught you. Ya ain't even got underwears on! An' in public! In front of menfolk! Ya oughtta be ashamed of yerself!" Delilah gives Mira a disapproving look, like she could honestly make this woman see the error of her ways. Ashlyn's comment does not filter through Delilah's righteous indignation, and she therefore does not catch that Bishop has been stabbed recently, nor that this woman was responsible. Delilah's shot to the gut has not improved her perception.

Mira looks at Delilah's little rant without anything but annoyance in her eyes. Then she very elaborately and purposefully trains her hand over her stomach towards the front of her pants. "Yes, but your mother also probably went to church every sunday, does her little prayers... and begs for a properly hung man to give her a good night of whatfor while your pa sweats on her." Mira tilts her head towards poor Delilah then looks back at Ashlyn. "We had a deal. If my goods are patched up, you need to deliver them, or I'll have to ... hold up my end of the bargain, yeah?" Giggling, Mira brings her hand to her lips gently sucking on a finger tip in a very non-playful motion that accompanies a look best reserved for Cinemax.

"You seem ta think I'll stand outta yer way," Ashlyn very nearly snarls, interposing herself between Delilah and Mira again. "You want blood, Mira, take a swing." The way she holds herself, her feet solidly on the ground and body canted just slightly suggests that she's plenty ready for a fight. "I'll have ya on yer back an' screamin' faster any a the men ya ever whored yerself out to in the back allys a the slums." Her clenched fists suggest that these will not be screams of pleasure.

Torres arrives from Chaos Theory - Cargo Bay.
Torres has arrived.

Talon takes a step back at Ashlyn's beckon of violence. This is the Captain's fight. He takes his place beside Delilah, hand still on his weapon, but with a looser grip now; he holds out an arm to Delilah to give her strength to stand. "Don't let her words get to you," he murmurs to Delilah. "Emotions blur the capacity of rational judgement."

Delilah is standing behind Ashlyn, who is facing Mira. Talon is beside Delilah, with his arm out to her, because she seems to be swaying on her feet. Somewhere up by Ashlyn is an abandoned wheelchair. The entire group is right outside the ship, which seems to be encased in a fortress-like enclosure of cargo crates. It's evening, and the sun has begun to set.

Delilah's jaw drops when Mira begins insulting her mother and father, and her hands ball up into fists. She allows Talon to help her stabilize, but she's likely far too upset to heed his warning, though she's so weak on her feet, it's not as though she could do anything right now anyway, but speak. "Don't...you.../DARE/ speak of my Ma an' Pa that way!" she exclaims, visibly shaking with insult and rage. "She did go ta church an' she did say her prayers, an' she was a better woman, a better /person/ than you could ever, ever hope ta be in a lifetime a Sundays, so you jus' go back ta wherever it is ya came from an' you stay there!" Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, but her voice is strong, and pissed off.

Torres appears at the top of the ramp, L85A2 at the ready. Slowly his steps take him down the slope of the ramp, his eyes narrowed and primarily upon Mira. Taking the scene in quickly, he stops at the ramp's end, keeping his field of fire clear for the alleged wife of Bishop. For now, it's the Captain's fight, but should Mira make one false move or should someone new appear to threaten the crew, well, it was anybody's guess what Torres would do next. Ten years of frontier justice makes a man mighty random.

"Oh Puhhlleaze." Mira says looking at Delilah and shaking her head. "How do you think you got here? Unless you were found on an doorstep.. oh.. oh you're an orphan aren't you." The woman says it mockingly then shakes her head. "Wake up to the world. Your mother got her legs lifted by your pa, probably some others... /probably/ the preacher man himself. IT's life." She nods towards Talon, "You think he brought you flowers for anything other than gettin' a good ride outta ya? Well..." She grins darkly, "A ride at least?"
Having had enough of the pair, she looks back towards Ashlyn, looking down at her and scoffing. "Little girl. You're not worth the time, nor worth gettin' myself hit over because you got some chip on your shoulder. You got the papers, he's mine. He don't wanna be mine, that's fine. I'll take half his fortune in the divorce and be on the way."

"Can't have a devorce if ya ain't never had a marriage," Ashlyn spits, not dropping her stance as she glared up at the taller woman. Her back to Torres and her attention entirely focussed on Mira, she doesn't noticed the gunhand's arrival right away. "Forged documents ain't legally bindin'. So if ya ain't gonna fight me an' ya don't want no more ta do with Bishop, Get outta my sight. You an' me don't got no more ta discuss."

Talon holds a steadying hand out across Delilah to hold her back from any attacks. The hand drops away after a second, when he realizes that Delilah isn't going to be attacking anybody any time soon. Silent, he watches the proceedings unfold, though he does note Torres' arrival with a quick nod to the man he knew as Sherriff.

Delilah snorts at Mira and glances to Talon with a smile of complete confidence, looking at him, but speaking to the hookerbitch. "He knows me better'n that. Weren't why he was comin' at all. An' yer jus' stupid. Cuz my Ma was a great woman, an' I'm gonna have a family, an' be jus' like her. Plus, Bish loves Ash. He /loves/ her." She turns now to face Mira, her face not nearly as red as before. Apparently she finally caught on to the back and forth between the two women. "An' yer nothin' like her. Ash is perfect, an' yer just tryin' too hard." She grins at Ashlyn and adds, "Why y'all gotta fight over somebody what can't remember ta wear pants, anyway?"

All expression leaves Torres' face once Mira spews her words, and a calmness descends upon his features. Little seems to phase him now, and he actually relaxes, shifting his weight to one hip. "Woman," calls Torres to Mira, "you have added upon a tale of woe to this ship and this crew. Should you decide to continue with this crazed lunacy, I will find you, and I will shoot you. Dead. That ain't the Captain or Bishop speakin', Missy, that's just me. So, you decide."

"Perfect? Her?" Mira laughs like she just heard a good joke. "Why don't you outright ask your little beau here what's on his pants." Then her attention shifts to Ashlyn steadily. "This ain't over, by any means. You have something that belongs to me, and taht's theft. It don't matter if he knows it or you know it, but what's mine, is mine, and I will be reclaimin' it." The woman says it with a very nasty tone to her voice. Then her eyes drift towards Torres. "I been shot before, it tickles. But that ain't what you need to be worried about. See, Little Miss Captain here went to the Feds. So they came to me. We had a nice, pretty little talk. I told them all my side of the story. Anything happens to me, they come lookin' at you. The question is, which will feel worst for you. Losing your little boy toy Bishop?" That part is directed towards Ashlyn, then Mira looks over at Torres, "Or shootin' me... and spending the rest of your life enjoying the deep filling sensation of .. shower time?" Shaking her head, Mira laughs and turns to walk away, tossing over her shoulder. "He'll come crawling back on his belly before its' done Lil' Bitch. Once you have this you don't want to go back." Then, Mira starts sucking on her own finger again as she moves off.

Ashlyn stands where she is as Mira walks off, practically seething. As the other woman vanishes, she spints into the dirt in the space Mira so recently occupied and turns around, seeming to remember for the first time that she's not alone as her eyes fall on those around her. A sudden somewhat sheepish look passes over her, especially when her eyes meet Delilah's. "That was... Bishop's ex," she explains, since only Torres has had the benifit of explaination before. "She... Well you saw her." And that's all the explaination she gives on that. As for the rest of it: "Said she'd hurt Bishop again if she didn't get him back."

Talon nods to Ashlyn. "If you can get her and Bishop's full list of identities, registered Social Control Numbers, dates of birth, and place of marriage... I can make all traces of their coexistence disappear," he offers cooly, as though he's offering to take out the trash in the morning. "And I don't certainly didn't mean to be present when this all happened, I just meant to come by to apologize to Delilah..."

Delilah ignores Mira for the most part as she walks away, and arches an eyebrow at Ashlyn when she calls this woman Bishop's 'ex', not including the 'ex-/wife/' portion of that phrase that seemed to be insinuated just earlier. She had noticed Torres for the first time when he threatned Mira, and she acknowledges him quickly with a nod. "Bishop...is married?" she asks slowly, giving Ashlyn a long, searching look before turning to Talon and taking a shaky step closer to him. "Can we all go inside? I really shouldn't a'been standin' that whole time, but my chair was up by her, an' I didn't think she'd jus' roll it over here iffn' I asked her to nicely." She's still clutching the yellow roses Talon brought her in her hand, and she brings them up to her nose, smelling them again. "I really do love these. An' I'm sorry I busted my stitches. I jus'...didn't want ya ta leave."

Torres shakes his head as Mira turns away, "Ah, well," he says to Ashlyn and Bishop. "She don't seem to have lived rimward for any length a time. That's unfortunate." Any more he doesn't say, sighing then. He turns to Talon, after regarding Delilah, asking, "You go on inside." Back to Ashlyn, Torres says, "I'm gonna hang back, then close up."

Ashlyn seems to be relaxing slightly as Mira's non-presence continues. She manages to just barely crack a smile at Talon's offer. "Right kind offer, Talon," she says with a hint of the adrenalin rushing out of her blood showing through in her voice, which wavers slightly. Her hands as well tremble slightly in sinch with her voice. "But I think I got a better idea. `Sides, I /did/ report her ta the feds. Dunno what files they mighta looked at that they might notice gone missin', y'know?" She flinches when Delilah speaks. "No, not married. Not officially." There's almost an appology in her voice as she replies to her. "It's a story. One I'll tell ya if ya ask," she adds tiredly. She turns to Torres with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Torres. I'll help ya close up, make sure everthin's still shiny, huh?"

Talon nods to Ashlyn as he moves over to grab the wheelchair for Delilah's transportation. "You're right. I hadn't thought of that," he says after a long pause. "I can take Delilah inside. Captain, Sherriff... Anything I can offer of my services, is yours to use." He nods to them as he brings the wheelchair up to Delilah for her to sit in, so he can wheel her back up to the Medbay, flowers and all.

Delilah looks a little deflated that Talon didn't get down on his knees, apologize with tears, profess his undying love for her, and ask her to marry him on the spot...but she gets into the chair, disappointment and all. To Ashlyn she murmurs, "Later," and crosses her legs, settling herself in for the bumpy ride up the ramp and into the bay. Assuming Talon pushes her inside, she beams up at him, much like days long past, and points, chirping, "I've got flowers!" before entering the ship.

Delilah looks a little deflated that Talon didn't get down on his knees, apologize with tears, profess his undying love for her, and ask her to marry him on the spot...but she gets into the chair, disappointment and all. To Ashlyn she murmurs, "Later," and crosses her legs, settling herself in for the bumpy ride up the ramp and into the bay. Assuming Talon pushes her inside, she beams up at Torres, much like days long past, and points, chirping, "I've got flowers!" before entering the ship.