Aftershocks
Invictus - Crew Commons
This is the ship's common room, a place for the crew to relax, eat, and talk. In the middle of the room is a big table with comfortable chairs placed around it. To the port side near the Med Bay's entrance is a simple kitchen beside a basic storage rack for food and drinks. Starboard, the entry to the Crew Quarters can be found, as well as a number of large lockers for the crew's kit storage. To the room's aft are placed some couches opposite to a Cortex terminal and a large screen where currently some sort of gaming console appears to be hooked up. Between the couches, a small table holds some books and other things to read. Finally, to the front near the entrance to the Captain's Quarters, a corkscrew stairway up to the Bridge can be seen.
At first glance, it'd be easy to believe that the vidscreen is playing to an empty room. Wren isn't easy to spot, huddled on one of the couches, knees drawn to chest, chin resting on top. Small, quiet and still.
Wren isn't easy to spot, yes, but Grey couldn't spot a rhinoceros in a mile of open desert right now. He comes out of the Med Bay, a walking stick in hand, tap-tap-tapping at the ground before him to make sure he doesn't trip on anything. A little behind and beside him follows a man with circular lenses, carefully looking over Grey's shoulder to make sure the Captain doesn't faceplant onto a stack of knives.
Gabriella limps in from the direction of the guest quarters, a bag slung over her good shoulder, a different laptop tucked against her stomach by her good hand, and a small tool belt dangling from her teeth. Stepping in, she gives only a half glance towards the vid screen, not spotting the tucked figure on the couch, and she heads towards the nearest console panel, giving a half glance towards Grey and his companion. She tries to say a "Hello Captain." but it comes out mumbled a good bit and who knows what it ends up sounding like.
There's a flicker of interest as Wren shifts her gaze to focus on the tap tap tapping and the escort the Captain has acquired, and she continues to watch as Gabriella comes in and makes her mumbled greeting. Wren understands mumbling. She speaks it quite fluently, and there's no doubt in her mind as to what the woman is saying.
"Gabriella?" Grey asks, tilting his head to the side a bit. He tries to turn in the direction that the voice came from, but there's a table in his way - and Jean-Rousseau finds himself jumping forward and grabbing him by the shoulders before he falls over. The Captain rights himself and tries to feel for the table so he can walk around it.
"Over this way, Tristan," Jean-Rousseau says, directing Grey toward Gabriella.
"How's your shoulder?" Grey asks, apparently having been caught up to the extent of his crew's condition since he woke up.
"Oh, just peachy." Gabriella grumbles around the toolbelt clenched in her teeth, and then sighs, crouching down in front of the console's panel, dropping her bag and the toolbelt in front of her, then dropping back onto her bum with a small thud. "Peachy." She says again, very much in the tone of 'If you believe that I've got some water front property.....'
She glances over her shoulder towards Grey and Jean-Rousseau, giving the Captain an appraising look. "We gonna talk about hazard pay at some point?" She questions... She may or might not be joking.
"Grey," Wren mutters in disapproval as Jean-Rouseau uses the man's actual name. "Peachy," she echoes Gabriella softly, shifting to rub her cheek against her knee, continuing to watch the three of them.
Grey chuckles quietly as he's assisted into a seat by his aide, and folds the walking stick into his lap. "In the Spacer's life, lass... Hazard comes as surely as breath itself," he says with a small calm smile. "But the good part of flyin' with the Invictus is that I'll foot all your medical bills. Passenger, crewman, or temporary hire. Speakin' a which..." He turns his eyes in the approximate direction of Gabby. "Have you decided which of that list you'd prefer to be?"
"Hazard's one thing," Gabriella grumps, as she opens the laptop and powers it up beside her, working one-armed for the time being. She pulls a screwdriver out of the small tool belt, and sets about undoing the screws that keep the panel in place. "Gettin' blown up is an entirely different matter. And, who in the gorram hell keeps a nuclear bomb on a ship?!" She snarks. "In a foot locker, no less?! And, who's bright idea was it to go poking around a bomb without a tech with you, anyways?!" Apparently... she's having a day. Gabriella sighs, shaking her head and muttering incoherently under her breath, just about every other word a different language. "That depends on what job you're offering, and what pay rate goes with it." She says with a toothy and fangy grin cast over her shoulder towards Jean-Rousseau and the captain.
There's a subtle shudder that runs through Wren's body at the word 'bomb', and she clutches her knees a little closer to her chest as she listens.
"Engineer, in the official capacity," Grey says, unfazed by the other ramblings. Jean-Rousseau leaves the Captain's side to go prepare a couple cups of coffee. "Unofficially, digital security and hacking, when the cause warrants. I offer two pay rates - one for the crewmen, another for officers. Right now, I've only got one officer, who's my First Mate. The Doctor is soon to become one, and would have been long ago iffen she hadn't had to step off the ship for a little bit for personal business. Two more posts are open: Coxswain an' Bosun. As an Engineer, you'd be gunnin' for the Bosun position."
Jean-Rousseau delivers the coffees, holding two in each hand. He ends up sitting across from Grey on a couch, cradling his own steaming-hot cup in his hands as though he can't even feel the heat. "If I were to stop, where would the women go?" he asks Grey, his innocent smile lost on the temporarily blind man. "Back to you? Hardly! Your wife would hang you by your nostrils from the rear of the ship, and dangle you as bait to the Reavers. I must pick up the slack you have left in this 'Verse by becoming married."
Grey laughs, accepting his coffee carefully. "Nobody said you don't have a gilded tongue," he says, humor in his voice. "Hell, I'd like to see you and the Preacher go at it sometime. You'd probably end up either killing each other or becoming best friends."
Zahara's nose wrinkles prettily. "Ah, Alabaster. I don't ever want to see him in my medical bay as a patient again," she says with a little laugh. "He's almost as impossible an invalid as I have ever met. He is quite vexed with me for speaking my first language with Gabriella here," and she gestures to the girl, "and also because I will not let him drink yet."
She accepts her coffee and sips it black. A satisfied little sigh escapes her full lips, and she raises it to JR with an arched brow and quirked smile of thanks. "I haven't even had a drink since the explosion, and I only had a head wound..." And that head wound still seems to be affecting her still: she's still a touch too pale, but that might be because she hasn't slept much. She shakes her head. "I need a short break, I think," she says with a murmur.
Jean-Rousseau smiles reservedly, watching Zahara take her first sip with an approving look - black is the only way to drink a coffee, so far as he's concerned. "Kill a preacher? My dear Tristan, I doubt that even you could do such a blasphemous thing." He sips his own coffee, and nods in self-satisfaction: another perfect press.
"The preacher drinks?" Grey asks, this being news to him. "And are you saying that he's worse than Isabella? Because I'll hafta actually see that with my own eyes. /I/ can't even keep Isabella in a Med Bay. An' aye, Doctor, you need a rest. Hell, we're gettin' outta here as soon as we're finished with the Lady Antoinette - when Gabriella finishes makin' her hack attempts. We'll go somewhere nice fer a little bit. I got enough cash stashed ta take the whole damn crew on a little much-needed healin' vacation."
Zahara raises a perfectly and naturally sculpted brow in surprise. "Yes... The Reverend and I have had sake together on a couple of times, and I've seen him drinking in the bars. I had to remove his flask before surgery." It seems perfectly normal to -her- at least.
But then she starts to look a little uncomfortable. "No. He's not as bad as Isabella. He just likes to keep a steady swig at hand. I've never seen... Oh." Zahara suddenly seems to realize that she had completely misunderstood what Grey was saying Isabella was bad about. Her cheeks colour delicately and an almost haughty air of professionalism descends. "The Reverend is merely petulant," she says softly.
"Huh," Grey says. "That's friggin' interesting. I'm gonna have a drink with that man. By a drink, I mean to say that I'm going to get my First Mate tanked to the point where he's standing on top of the ship, singing old sailor's ballads, wearing nothing but a Bible." He grins wickedly at the thought. Not even a blink or a word about the whole Isabella thing. Nope, it's as though he didn't even hear.
"This Shepherd, he is the First Mate?" JR asks, intrigued by this whole talk now. "I have not seen him yet. Since when does Tristan hire Shepherds as officers aboard a ship? Disregard that - since when does he let Shepherds /set foot/ aboard his ship?"
And the Arabic Core-Worlder sails on graciously. "He is," she answers JR. "He is not your usual Shepherd though. I think that there is more beneath his white suit than a chastity belt and bible-verse printed underwear," comes her voice with a perfectly straight face. She takes another sip of her coffee, holding the cup gently between long, nimble fingers.
Strangely enough, the woman is not wearing her usual doctorly clothes. Rather, she is wearing gold, copper, and russet coloured silks in the traditional garb of her heritage: that is to say, a healthy amount of cleavage, a curving waist, and sleekly outlined hips and legs. She adjusts the golden belly ornament that covers her navel with the soft tinkle of the slender bangles about her wrist. The woman leans back into her seat next to Grey and re-crosses long legs even as the pealing of her belled anklets sound.
"A vacation? To where, if you don't mind my asking?" Perhaps the good doctor has her own ideas about what a vacation consists of.
Jean-Rousseau nods sagely. "Yes - and this is my trade. Unlike Tristan, who is really a pilot by trade, or yourself, a Doctor, I am a pilot of the heart, a Doctor of the mind." The Frenchman lifts up a finger. "There is no formal schooling for this profession. To see behind what lies on the still surface and dive into the stormy depths."
"Man-whore doesn't really count as a profession," Grey offers helpfully from behind his coffee cup.
"Ah, you see? He ridicules that which society does not validate as a useful trade. But, there is a market for those like myself. Information-gatherers, those who can manipulate a man - or a woman, yes - into giving up the information one requires without them even knowing that I am pulling them in. To understand human behavior, and human nature, is to open the floodgates to a new science, unnamed and unknown."
"You don't get paid by the word," Grey snorts. "And your coffee's gettin' cold. Doctor, in answer to your question, I was thinkin' either Sihnon or Newhall. Isabella an' I have properties on both. On Sihnon, we have the huge mansion estate, which'd be nice as a getaway for a little bit, an' nice shoppin' an' sightseein' for the whole crew an' all, assumin' everyone doesn' run off an' get arrested within the hour. Newhall's got the open seas, the cool breezes, an' it's where Genevieve was born an' first grew up."
Gabriella lets out a snort from behind whatever tool she had between her teeth at the moment at Grey's comment of getting the Shepherd drunk, shaking her head slightly, though her attention seemed to stay mostly focused on the work at hand, though she had paused long enough to accept the proffered mug of coffee, with a murmured thanks and a half smirk towards Jean-Rousseau. "As a matter of fact, there is formal schooling for that... they're called Companions." She says with a grin. "And, they're well worth every hard earned shiny cred. " She pauses... "If what I've heard is true, anyways." She shrugs.
She makes no comment or suggestion on vacation get aways, instead, she finished connecting the wires, and then plugs the small box into the laptop beside her. "Show me what I want to see." She murmurs to the computer, watching as a few pop ups flash up on the screen.
Zahara merely smirks a little. "But what of those who might seem a touch more resistant to your charms? Who might see through -you-?" she asks JR with what might be considered avid interest... Or at least avid interest in a game.
But she hears 'Sihnon' and relaxes happily a little. "Oh, Sihnon. I haven't been there in a while. Not since I went there with Sirah." She looks over at Grey, as if explaining. "She's a childhood friend of mine, a Companion with House Daska." But then she tilts her head. "Though, I've never been to Newhall..." she poses.
"Companions are a different creature altogether," Jean-Rousseau says. "They deal with a different kind of human nature. Not to say that I do not deal with that side, but... I digress." He hides a smile behind a sip of coffee. "And mademoiselle medicine, everyone can see through me. I am the ocean's ripples - clear and formless, anyone can see right through me. But none can see all of me."
"Aye, I haven't been there in a while either," Grey says to Zahara, ignoring most of JR's self-allusions. "It used to be... well, it was Isabella and Valerius' house." He falls silent for a moment. "Her first husband. Father of Gabriella." He glances over to Gabriella, or somewhere close to her, anyhow. "Not you, my daughter Gabriella." Like she needed to be told that.
"Figured as much." Gabriella mutters towards Grey with a half smile, her good hand once again slipping into the interior of the console, fingers digging around, her eyes wandering around the room as she does. "This vacation before or after we find out what's up with the Antoinette?" She questions.
Zahara expression as she looks back at Jean-Rousseau is a perfect mirror of his smile. Her eyes twinkle at the man's play, and, briefly, her eyebrow quirks ever so faintly. "I think I am beginning to see," she says in French, her tone playful and low. "Perhaps we might discuss this further sometime. I could be fascinated by this line of conversation."
Another sip of her coffee, and the warm amber eyes shift back towards Gabriella, also shifting into English at the same time. "Well, after I've been spending so much time trying to fix what that damnable ship did to you all, I bloody well hope the vacation is -after- we solve this puzzle. I'd hate to think my efforts were for a vain quest."
"After," Grey says firmly. "Leastwise, we gotta do all that we hafta from this planet 'fore we undock. We should leave ourselves available ta pick Scarlet up when she calls, too. But after that's done, an' we leave Badger a nice lump sum a credits, we're scot free for obligations. Take a couple days soakin' in the sun, spendin' hard-earned money, have some nice fancy meals, maybe shoot each other in the face a couple times... Mm."
Jean-Rousseau only continues to smile, his eyes locked on Zahara's.
"Not much for the shooting part... " Gabriella says with a quick smile, another loud snap coming from inside the console, and she emerges, a silver disc in hand. "That oughta do it." She says, dropping the round piece into he bag, hair thin wires dangling from it. "But the rest of it sounds good to me." She comments, typing in a few commands onto the laptop's keyboard. As a string of text flows by, she reaches into her hoodie and pulls out a cigarette and a box of matches.
A smile and a pair of pretty eyes has been the death of many a weak-willed man or woman. And is Zahara one of those? Yet, though her mien is exactly in the same line of thought as the Frenchman's, the crisp-accented Doctor breaks JR's staring contest with a subtle wink and turns back towards her charges.
"Gabriella? Are you about ready for your next shot?" she asks as if nothing had happened, and perhaps nothing had. She is, after all, a consummate professional. "You're almost due." And a hand lifts to take one more casual sip and the mug is lowered once more.
Zahara -does- however slide her long-lashed gaze back towards JR's green eyes. "Thank you for the coffee," she says in a near purr. "It's been a while since I have had anything that even closely resembles a drink to my tastes..."
"A whole ship of smokers," Grey chuckles as he reaches for his own cigarettes. "Gotta love it. Hey Doc, am I allowed to have a glass a gin? Or will the painkillers mixed with alcohol jus' totally screw me up?" He lights the cigarette with a swift trick of the Zippo, and leans back in his seat after putting his empty coffee mug down on the table. "What have ya got, Gabriella?"
Jean-Rousseau's smile only grows when Zahara winks and looks away, looking quite satisfied with himself. "Anytime," he says quietly to Zahara, his voice a smooth velvet to counter her purr. "I am told I am quite skilled at... catering to individual tastes. Just let me know what you prefer, and I shall accommodate." He inclines his head to her, hiding a wink before he stands up and collects the empty mugs and brings them back to the kitchen portion of the Commons.
"Well, for starters, you should be more particular about who you let install parts and pieces on your bird." Gabriella grumps, although it's followed by a frown. "'Course, it could've been there from the beginning. Some of the older consoles had them from the get go. Snitches." She says, suddenly realizing she hadn't explained what she was complaining about. "A chip installed that keeps an abbreviated record of any cortex files accessed. Not useful unless you have the decryptor code and access, and most Alliance Intel officers don’t' even know about them anymore but... " She shrugs.
"Still something you don't want around if you're doing things you shouldn't be. Which... I do quite often." She says dryly, glancing over her shoulder towards Zahara. "Overdue, or pretty close to it, actually." She says with a shrug. "You were busy." She glances towards. "I don't have anything useful yet, had to get this taken care of first, get this console prepped for use. The other one's busy, no wave strength left to access the cortex for anything this complicated."
Well. It seems that Zahara is -indeed- in need of a vacation! Slipping on medication times?
She frowns brusquely and stands up. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure how I let it lapse... That's not like me..." All thoughts of JR or anything else for that matter are quite obviously flown out the window.
She breezes past, a flutter of silk and jingle of gold, and into the medical bay. Soon after, she returns with a shot, crouches down and waits for Gabriella's arm to clean it for injection. A good eye would also spot a second syringe set in a small holder by her hip... Obviously meant to blend in and be non-descript.
Grey nods to Gabriella. "We've had one hacker come an' go, so she might've installed that ta keep a snoop on us after she left. Or, maybe like ya said, it's been there from the beginning. I don' deal with computer-y things. I wouldn't know a damn thing 'bout it." He stands back up, extending the walking stick to its full length so he can feel out where he's going, and puts his lone crutch under his other arm. "Time for me to check on the girls..." Or run away from the Doctor doing doctor things, who knows? He slips away into the Captain's Quarters, regardless.
Jean-Rousseau washes out the mugs, humming to himself under his breath again. When he's done, he bows elaborately to Gabriella and Zahara. "Mademoiselles. It has been my pleasure." He falls out into the Crew Quarters.
"I'll let you know when I've got anything useful." Gabriella says, glancing back up as Zahara slips out, a small frown tugging at the corner of her lips for the briefest of moments. "See you around," Gabriella says with a flash of a grin towards JR. "Sooner or later." She says, and then turns her attention back towards the laptop, pulling it into her lap and angling it just right to allow both hands access, even with the one arm in the sling. When Zahara returns, she gives the doctor a flicker of a smile, pausing to pull the arm of her jacket off and presenting it to the doctor. "Thanks."
A murmured mumbling begins from out of the shadows in one corner of the room. The words are, at first, indistinct and incomprehensible, but Wren's voice picks up volume and clarity as it continues. Until finally the last words are heard quite clearly "...away from me!" An abrupt thump follows as her head knocks back against the wall.
Swiftly, and with an air that speaks of an old hand, the shot is delivered, the area cleaned again, and the syringe disappears. Zahara smiles a little and begins to speak softly in a tongue familiar to both girls. "...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................."
And then... Wren is heard. Zahara sighs, looks over at Gabriella and shakes her head. "Wren?" she says cautiously. "It's alright, you can come over here... No one is going to hurt you..."
Gabriella's nose wrinkles up slightly at the injection, exhaling out softly as Zahara pulls the needle out. "............................................." Gabriella says, eyes drifting open and turning towards her bag, she digs in and pulls out a small electronic device (mp3 player size for reference), oval on the ends and with an electronic print sensor on the end. "............................................................................." She replies, extending it towards Zahara, balancing the laptop gingerly with her bad elbow.
Gabriella twitches slightly at the sudden outburst from Wren, wincing a bit at the sound of the unmistakable thump of flesh against a wall, shaking her head as she peers in that direction.
"You all right, mei mei?" She calls in the general direction of Wren from where she sits cross legged on the floor in front of a console that she has removed the front panel to and has pulled out some of the wires from the gut of.
There's a short pause, and then Wren comments, "Now." Rustling sounds follow, and soon enough she steps out of the shadows, face still flushed with sleep, one cheek holding the imprint of crinkled fabric. Cautious steps bring her closer to the pair, until she can sit on the edge of the nearest chair.
Annika enters from the sick bay, shaking her head to herself. She glances up as she enters, seeing a good number of the crew gathered here. She raises her eyebrows at the scene before her. Her eyes glance over to Wren as she enters, as well, "Everyone alright?"
Gabriella slides her arm back into her jacket and straightens it, glancing back towards Wren as she creeps closer, giving her a fangy smile. "Glad to hear it." Gabriella says, then turns her attention towards Annika with another smile. "With the exception of being blown up, I'm great. You?" She continues to enter text into the screen of the laptop that rests on her knees, occasionally glancing down to double check. "Hadn't had a chance to thank you two, by the way."
Annika shrugs and waves a hand at Gabriella's thanks, "It's good to see you up and around. What's the shot for?" She nods as the doctor rushes off to go check on Smith, leaving her alone with Wren and Gabriella.
There's an unmistakable sigh of relief as the Doctor slips out to go attend to doctorly things, but it's relatively short lived as Annika enters. Wren remains on the edge of her seat, ready to bolt if there should be cause. A faint smile curves her lips upward at Gabby. "Pairs. Things went too fast," she adds with a small shake of her head, "an' I couldn't keep up."
Grey hobbles back out from the Captain's Quarters, a crutch under his left arm and a walking stick in his right. Tap tap tap, feeling out the path before him to make sure that it's clear. Jean-Rousseau accompanies the Captain yet again, hanging a bit behind and to the side of him and making sure he doesn't hurt himself on anything. He whispers something in Grey's ear, to which the temporarily blind man nods, and makes his way across the Commons toward an open couch.
"For the shoulder." Gabriella replies to Annika's question, hitting enter and sliding the laptop onto the floor, shifting to once again dig out her smokes, and light one up. All one-handed, mind you, and doing a fairly good job of it. Apparently, she's had practice. "I understand that feeling all too well." Gabriella says wryly to Wren, with a shake of her head as she leans back against the wall from where she sits on the floor next to one of the cortex consoles.
Annika nods to Gabriella, "You look a lot better." She looks to the door as the Captain is escorted in, a frown settling across her expression, "Good to see you up, Captain." She doesn't comment on his blindness or his second broken leg. Doesn't do to remind people of such things.
"I got... lost," Wren replies apologetically to Gabby with a worried glance at Annika. Her gaze shifts to Grey as he enters with the rhythmic tapping, taking in the new guy as well. Shifting uncomfortably on the chair she suddenly volunteers, "You curse too much." It's directed toward Grey, but that's not an easy thing to tell when you can't see.
"Feeling sort of better." Gabriella comments towards Annika, glancing towards the door at Annika's greeting of the Captain, a brow raising as Wren's comments reach her ears, turning towards the girl for a brief moment. "That happens from time to time. To the best of us." She says, with a small, slightly forced smile. She lets out an easy chuckle at Wren's comment, "I'm not sure if it counts as cursing too much when it's the same word repeated twelve times."
"Who curses too much?" Grey asks as he settles into his seat, folding the walking stick into his lap and setting the crutch beside him. He sits far too straight, his head tilted upward a bit, his blind eyes seeking out the sources of the voices but not quite looking directly at the people present. "Good to see you too, Annika. Though I can't actually /see/ you. Y'know what I mean," he says in a wry voice, his blindness apparently a point of humor to him at the moment.
Jean-Rousseau nods to Annika in greeting, but doesn't say anything just yet, waiting to see if Grey wants anything in particular. He stands beside the couch, silent.
Annika remains standing, hovering near the table, not quite sure whether she wants to get comfortable or not. She returns Jean-Rousseau's nod, really never having had a chance to get to know the man. She starts to nod to Grey, but then remembers to say, "Yah. I know. Doc says it's only temporary, right?"
"*Especially* then," Wren says to Gabby, making a face. "You," she tells Grey simply, watching him curiously. "Does it hurt?" she wonders at him.
"I hope to hell it's only temporary," Grey snorts. "Nothin' 'gainst blind people, but man does this suck. I'd make some shitty Captain, without eyesight." He looks in the general direction of Wren, eyes frowning. "Does what hurt? Doc drugged me up to my nipples, so I can't feel a damned thing in the leg. The eyes, well, it's like... I thought bein' blind would be all dark-like, but for me, it's pure white. It's like the blinding light just stuck ta my eyes an' won't fade away."
Jean-Rousseau clears his throat a bit. "If you're planning a mutiny," he says, an ironic smile touching the corners of his lips, "now would be the most opportune moment. But be warned: just because he's blind doesn't mean he cannot see you."
Gabriella lets out a soft snort at Jean-Rousseau's comment, a grin pulling at her lips, sending a glance over her shoulder in his direction, amusement lit in her eyes briefly. "Why would anybody want to plan a mutiny? Wouldn't that mean they'd have to be Captain?" She questions. "I mean. No offense, but hell, that's one job you couldn't get pay me enough to do." She comments dryly. "I mean, no offense, but they're the first ones to get shot at when something goes wrong, and I don't always mean by the bad guys." She says, turning her gaze then, back to the laptop. Pressing enter, she starts a sequence running, and clenching her cigarette between her lips, pulls herself upright with her one good hand. Glancing towards JR, she gives him a quick once over again, before crouching down to gather up her things and shove them back into her bag. "So, what's a girl gotta do around here to get a second cup of coffee?" Gabriella questions, leaving the panel exposed, and the laptop still on the floor, hooked into the console's inner workings.
Annika quirks an eyebrow and peers at Jean-Rousseau, not sure yet if she's fond of his brand of humor. Her gold eyes try to assess whether the joke was as innocent as it sounded. Then her eyes fall to Gabriella as she answers him. She watches Gabriella pack up her stuff, then turns her attention back to Grey, "Captain, someone didn't want anyone explorin' that ship. Somethin' ain't right. How'd all that blood get in there and where'd the bodies go? Someone is runnin' round right under our noses, screwin' with stuff."
Jean-Rousseau flashes a smile to Gabriella. "Mademoiselle, I could tell you, but you would have to wash your ears out with a steel wool scrub immediately afterwards." He winks and makes his way over to the kitchen to prepare another press. "Would you like some too?" he asks to both Annika and Wren, starting to boil up some water. If he notices Gabriella's assessment of him, or Annika's scrutiny, he doesn't respond to it at all.
Grey nods gravely, looking straight ahead now. "Aye, Miss Annika. Nothin' is right, an' it seems the more we find, the less certain everything becomes. As for who went onto that ship, that's what Miss Gabriella will find for us, I hope. If they show up on the camera." He purses his lips for a moment in thought, then decides to answer Gabriella. "What's wrong with being shot at?" he asks. "It's fun. I've been shot at plenty of times." He points to his shot-off ear. "That's from my first Captain."
"Speaking of which." Gabriella comments towards Grey after Annika's assessment. "Anybody planning on filling me in on exactly what happened and what was found on the Antoinette that was so shiny that they had to plant a bomb to protect it?" She asks, looking between Annika and Grey.
Gabriella turns her gaze towards Jean-Rousseau with a slow smirk. "And you assume that would be a problem because....." She says IN FRENCH, a smirk flickering over her face before she glances back towards Grey. "Gabby, Gab, or Gabriella. Nobody calls me Miss. I'm not older than you, I'm not your boss, I don't sign your paychecks, and I'm certainly not your teacher." She says with a shake of her head. "Just Gabby. And it hurts!" She exclaims to answer his question. "Or so I'd imagine, I mean, never been shot myself. I got no problems with pain under the right circumstances, but that sure as hell isn't one of 'em." Gabriella states with vehemence.
Grey's words pour over Wren, and her eyes unfocus, expression going vague. Wrapping her arms around her middle she hugs herself as people continue to speak, a flickers of pain crossing her face and then vanishing again. "I'm ready to plant now," she declares with something approaching desperation, ignoring the rest of the conversation. "Sage and thyme and rosemary," she continues, something in her expression easing a little. "Tomatoes and lettuce."
"In the right circumstances," Jean-Rousseau muses, echoing Gabriella's words, that humored tone of voice tinting his words, as he continues to prepare the French press for another round of coffee. "I would hope that you are not older than me," he says to her as he sets out four mugs again. "I believe that Mister Wise is the only one aboard this craft older than me."
"I'm a little fuzzy on the details myself at the moment," Grey answers to Gabriella, assuming that it was an open question for the whole room. "Zahara and Annika would probably remember more than me right now. An' let's jus' hope that you don't get shot anytime in the near future, then."
Annika grows silent after Grey's answer, thinking things over. She shakes her head when JR offers her coffee, "No thanks." She listens quietly for a while, having nothing to add to the discussion of getting shot.
Gabriella gives an odd glance in Wren's direction, but it slips away quickly, and she makes no comment. Either she's used to, or had mostly adjusted to the random twists and turns that Wren's conversational tidbits take. "I'd like to keep it that way, yes." Gabriella ayes towards Grey, shaking her head slightly. "At some point, we need to do another compilation of data. See what everybody's put together in the last couple of days. Might find the missing piece we need to make the picture clear." Gabriella says.
Another glance is given towards Jean-Rousseau at his first reply, followed by a quick grin. "Don't forget the watermelon... Watermelons and tomatoes, they grow during the same season... " She says, finally turning her attention back towards Wren with a gentle smile.
Wren blinks and frowns at Gabby. "Watermelons're too big," she says with a quick shake of her head. "I've got some pepinos to try though," she tells her by way of consolation. Whatever distress she was feeling, it seems to have passed now, her voice light and easy.
Annika frowns at Wren, concerned by her ramblings. She says nothing, however, giving the girl a fair chance because the Captain asked her to. She addresses Gabriella, "I'd like to watch when you do that data compilation, if you don't mind?"
Grey nods and rises from his seat, taking all his accessories in hand. "Tremblay... Don't bother making a cup for me," he says to Jean-Rousseau, extending the walking stick. "I'm in a strange mood right now. Jus' need ta go spend some time with the wife and kids, I think. Annika, Wren, Gabriella - g'night, an' I'll see ya tomorrow. Hopefully we kin get off this gorram rock by then." He taps his way to his quarters, and disappears behind the doors.
And Jean-Rousseau presents hot steaming mugs of coffee to all who want them. "Cafe is served," he announces with a small bow. "And now, I must bid you all bon nuit, for balancing the Vega Enterprises accounts is no easy job."
"Strange is little melting kisses on your cheeks," Wren murmurs, fingers lightly touching first one cheek and then the other. "Good night, Grey," she says as the tapping grows ever fainter and the Captain vanishes from view.
Annika turns to watch Grey leave, her brow furrowed. She seems to have a lot on her mind and hasn't quite recovered from the knowledge that there are just some things she can't guard against. "Night, Captain," her voice calls faintly after the retreating figure. To JR, she just nods goodnight. Turning back to Wren, she cocks her head to the side, "Don't you ever talk normal, girl?"
"Night, Grey." Gabriella says towards the Captain as he disappears, taking the bringer of the coffee goodness with him... But, not before she accepts her coffee from Jean-Rousseau with a smile and a thanks, Over long fingers of her good hand wrap around the mug, and she takes a long whiff of the scent before taking a careful sip from where she sits on the floor next to the slightly gutted console. "I don't normally like people looking over my shoulder, but... I guess we can work something out, seeing as you helped me out when you had the chance." She says towards Annika with a shrug of her good shoulder. "Melt in your mouth, not in your hands?" She says with a light chuckle in Wren's direction, her gaze flickering back towards Annika at her next comment. "I don't reckon that's necessarily fair. After all, everybody defines normal in a different way, no?" She asks, arching her double pierced brow as if to accentuate her point.
Wren focuses on Annika and frowns in return. "Normal is a lie, little soft bits that sting after they pass," she tells her with a shrug, glancing to Gabby and nodding her agreement. "Doesn't exist." There's a short pause and then she adds, "Just cuz you see somethin', doesn' mean it's real."
Annika's lips twitch with a slight smile and she gives a nod to Gabriella's acquiescence. "Thanks. I'll try not to bother you." She raises her brows at the response to her question and gives a shrug, "I guess I'm just used to more plain speakin'. She gives me a headache."
"And just because something's real doesn't mean you can see it." Gabriella comments towards Wren with a smile of amusement. "Some things just take some getting used to, is all. And, least half the time, people are nothing more than a product of what exists around them." She says with a shrug and an easy smile. "Sounds to me like you'd be having an interest in learning some of what I do." She says towards Annika. "Am I wrong in that?" She questions. "Because if I'm not, we can set up some lessons, if you'd like."
Wren nods again, laying a finger along the side of her nose in a rather arcane gesture of agreement. "I'm a product," she adds, lips twisting faintly over the words, and then falls silent, watching the would-be instructor and her possible student.
Annika doesn't know what to say to the thread of conversation about Wren's odd way of speaking, so she's relieved when Gabriella changes the subject. She nods, straightening up some, "I am. Seems like a might useful skill to have. I'd appreciate the help." She swings her head around at Wren's comment, "A product of what, girl?"
"Sure. I'll sit down with you and figure out a schedule once I'm a bit more on my feet, so to speak." Gabriella says, a glance given between Wren and Annika at the woman's question, a small frown tugging at one corner of her lip. "So. Who's up for giving me the grand tour,?" She asks, taking a last sip of her coffee before setting it aside and pulling herself upright with her good hand. "I figure if I'm going to be crew on this bird, I should probably know where everything is." Gabriella says wryly.
"Too much," Wren answers Annika, gaze dropping to watch her fingers interlace. "I don't give tours," she adds in response to Gabby's request, a faint flush rising to her cheeks.
Annika gives Wren another of those frowns, then shakes her head slightly, letting it drop. She responds to Gabriella, "Sure, I can show you around. I'da figured the Captain'd already done that."
Take me back to Wren's RP Logs
