Into the Cabinetry
Jul 02, 2521 – 01:42:23
Invictus - Crew Commons =>Invictus<=
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.
Lights are low as most of the crew is sleeping, though on a ship there's always someone still awake somewhere. The smell of oil still hangs in the air from Grey's earlier mishap. And drifting along through the commons is a small figure in a long white gown, mumbling softly to herself.
Pad. Pad. Pad. Tyr is in a t-shirt and some pajama pants, flannel-like. "Oh. Hi, Wren," he says, screwing up his brow. "Are you okay?" He frowns.
There's no response to Tyr's question, not even a flicker of recognition. Once he's close enough, he can see Wren's eyes are glassy and not at all focused on what's in front of her. She continues to walk through the common area, heading for the kitchen, a few words randomly spoken clearly enough to be understood. "...don' wunna..."
Tyr frowns a little bit as he keeps his eyes on Wren. "Must be sleep-walking," he murmurs softly to himself. And so he sort of shadows her, not trying to wake her up. He read something that about once.
Grey emerges quietly from the Captain's Quarters, wearing a rich green robe with a golden lining. The whole thing looks about as soft as a pile of kittens, complete with matching slippers and all. He looks tired, frustrated, and like he's got a massive headache - and his face and hair are glowing dimly, which might have something to do with that.
Wandering into the kitchen, Wren crouches down in front of one of the lower cabinets, swinging it open. Shaking her head, she begins to remove everything inside it. Boxes and cans get deposited without any regard to order on the floor next to her, and she continues her mumbling discourse. "...you suck...get...away..."
Tyr winces at the crashing sounds from the cabinets. "Oh, dear," he murmurs as he tries to rush over and put the things back where they belong, while, at the same time, not waking up Wren. Tricky.
Grey blinks at the scene before him and pats his robe down. "Gorram it, all my cigs're in my other... /Gorrammit/, they're probably all oil-soaked," he mutters to himself as he starts to approach Wren and Tyr cautiously. "Everythin' all right here, mate?" he asks Tyr.
Wren is a very determined girl, and her pace picks up as Tyr begins trying to replace what she's cleared out. Grey's approach and question are noted not at all as she begins to simply sweep things out of the way. "Get... I'm not going," she declares, words clearer as she becomes more emphatic.
Tyr gives in, letting her take out all of the things. He can put them back later. "I think Wren's sleep-walkin' Cap'n," explains Tyr, looking over at Grey with a little wince. "And you're glowing." He points this out FYI.
Grey snorts. "Well aware a that fact, Mister Bannik," he says to Tyr. "But sleep-walkin'? That's, ah, interessin'." He watches Wren for a moment, trying to figure out just what in the hell she's trying to do. "This is one hell of a night, huh," he says with a quiet chuckle, not making any move to intervene.
Success! The cabinet is cleared, and without so much as a by-your-leave, Wren crawls inside it. It's a cramped fit, even for someone of her size, but she curls right up and then pulls the door shut behind her. "Screw you," are her parting words.
Tyr frowns slightly as Wren finds herself in a cabinet. And he finds himself in a mess of cans and other food. "Uhm. Wren's in the cabinet now, cap'n," he murmurs. He wrings his hands slightly. Welcome to the crew, Tyr!
Grey chuckles and shakes his head. "Well aware a that fact as well, Mister Bannik," he says, crouching beside the closed cabinet. He hesitates for a moment, then knocks on the door. "Wren? Min' if I come in?"
There's muffled sounds from inside the cabinet, but they're rather difficult to make out. Still, she doesn't sound very inviting.
Tyr frowns slightly. "You can just call me Tyr if you want," offers Tyr, even as he takes a step back to let the Captain in. Some clattering as he walks into some food on the floor.
"All ri'... I'm comin' in," Grey says as he opens up one of the cabinet doors slowly. He looks inside cautiously, as though afraid that Wren is going to jump out at him and try to get him to, what, glow more or something.
Wren has tucked herself into the smallest ball she can form, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, hugging them to her chest. There's a constant stream of muffled mumbling now, "Stop, stop-- no, please," the belligerence has been exchanged for a more desperate pleading.
"I read somewhere you're not supposed to wake up people that are sleepwalkin'," says the young medic, watching Wren with a really concerned look.
"I'll keep that in mind," Grey says as he reaches out slowly to put a hand on Wren's shoulder, trying to calm her. "Wren, can you hear me? It's fine, everything's all right."
Grey's touch seems to galvanize Wren, and she stiffens as her head jerks up. Of course, there's not a lot of space inside the cabinet, and her sudden movement has the unfortunate effect of slamming her head into the shelf above it. Her yelp of pain is accompanied by a sudden flurry of arms and legs flailing blindly, most of which just attacks the structure she's in.
Tyr winces. "Cap'n!" he calls, but then again, Grey can pretty clearly see what's going on in the cabinet. He winces and just watches.
Grey winces as well, though he keeps his hand on Wren's shoulder. He reaches out for her arms, trying to immobilize her until she calms down lest she hurt herself more, which takes him halfway into the cabinet himself.
Eyes wide, Wren's breath comes in panicked pants and gasps as she tries to free herself from whatever has hold of her. It takes several terrified moments for her to become aware of just who is sharing the cabinet with her, before her flailing limbs begin to slow. "C-c-captain?" she asks finally, staring at him in confusion and fright.
Tyr winces a little bit as Wren 'comes to.' "Hi, Wren," he says quietly from behind the Cap'n, trying to give her a reassuring presence. Even though he's barely known her for a full day.
"Shhh... It's all right, Wren, it's just me," Grey says in his most soothing voice. "You're all right. We've got you now. Everything is shiny." He backs off, letting her go, stepping half out of the cabinet but still staying crouched so that he's at her level and not looming above her.
Wren blinks at Grey, and then at Tyr as he speaks up. She even manages a weak little half-wave in Tyr's direction before looking back to the Captain. "Shiny..." she echoes him softly, rubbing at her face. "My head hurts," she complains with a grimace, reaching up to touch the crown of her scalp where it was slammed into the shelf above her. She doesn't seem to be in any hurry to remove herself from the cabinetry.
"We can get you some tea and an ice pack, and somethin' for that headache," suggests Tyr with an encouraging little smile. "Get on down and we'll get you all fixed up."
Grey nods to Tyr, stepping back a bit to give Wren more space. "You slammed it 'gainst the shelf there, when I touched your shoulder. I guess I musta scared you a bit. Sorry 'bout that." He reaches out a hand to see if she wants to let him guide her out of the cabinet. "What were you dreaming about, anyhow?"
Wren stares at Grey's hand for a moment before taking it with her own. "Scared is pins and needles all jabbing you at once," she says absently, frowning a little as she thinks about the question. "Nightmare," she tells him finally, a fine shudder running through her frame. "Tea is good. Soft petals and a breeze," she adds, glancing over to Tyr.
Tyr goes to find himself a tea kettle to put some hot water into. "Sounds just fine," he says, going to put the kettle on the stove. "Now. Let's just fine us some tea bags in here." He roots around the floor for the tea bag box.
Grey smiles when Wren takes his hand, and pulls her gently out of the cabinet. "There ya go. Tyr will get you some tea, and you can relax." He brings Wren over to the couches, so she can sit comfortably. "Lemme get you something for your head there, yeah?" He disappears into the Med Bay for a little bit.
Wren curls up on the couch, expression still a bit lost as she watches Tyr in his tea making endeavors. She rubs the top of her head a little, wincing at the tenderness she finds there. "Am I in trouble?" she finally asks, worry clouding her eyes.
"Naw. We can put the things back into the cabinet," says Tyr, bustling around, beginning to put things back just as he said he could. "I mean. Ain't hardly your fault you were havin' a bad dream, right?" He smiles encouragingly.
"Trouble?" Grey asks, hearing Wren's question as he steps out of the Med Bay holding a small ice pack and a bandage. "I never seen people get into trouble over a nightmare before," he chuckles as he sits on the arm of Wren's couch and hands her the ice pack. "When Gabby has a nightmare, she usually jus' curls up in bed with Isabella an' me. I mean, not that it's an option for you. But these things happen."
"It isn't? You haven't?" Wren queries doubtfully, looking from Tyr to Grey, the idea seeming to be a foreign one to her. Taking the ice pack, she doesn't quite seem to grasp exactly what she's supposed to do with it, using it instead to cool her cheeks and forehead. "You're still glowing," she also determines with a little frown at the Captain.
Tyr finishes straightening out the cabinet, smiling a little. "Not a bit of trouble. A few dents, but I don't think that will make the canned things taste any worse." He seems satisfied, smiling at Wren as the tea pot whistles.
"And you're still short," Grey counters to Wren with a good-natured smile. "Well, if it gets to be a problem, then we might have to get your sleepwalking issue looked at seriously by a Doctor or something, but... I've seen crazier," he says, that last part turning a bit wistful. "No Captain flambe, and no nutrient solution baths, neither. You're safe."
"No growing Captains," Wren agrees, this rule apparently already on her List of Things We Should Not Do. "No doctors, don't need a doctor, promise," she assures him with just a slight edge of panic in her voice. Tea pot whistling is a good distraction and she looks over to where Tyr is getting the tea ready. "Okay," she agrees with a nod, though she seems a bit unclear on what she's agreeing with.
Tyr pours the water into a tea cup, then putting in the tea bag. He does same for himself. "Cap'n, you want some?" wonders the medic-cargo hauler-vet-whatever fellow, holding the kettle over a third cup.
"Captains are not plants," Grey says with an admonishing finger, but still with a grin on his face, taking this whole incident in stride. While something like this might cause more stress and frustration for some, it seems to take the weariness that was on his face when he first stepped out of his room away. "And I won't make you see a Doctor if you promise you can keep the sleepwalking under control. Locking your own door at night, or something." At Tyr's question, he nods. "Aye, thanks, Tyr. Jus' a green tea, if you got one there. If not, I'll take whatever, thanks."
"Not plants," Wren confirms solemnly with another nod. "Promise. I'll keep my door locked, an' I'll be quiet as a mouse, an' I won' go walkin' while I'm asleep," she assures him with great earnestness.
Tyr brings over the two cups of tea for the other crew members, before then going back and getting his own. "There we go," he says with a small smile. "See? Tea makes most things better. That's what Jo always said."
Grey looks a bit skeptical at Wren's assurances, but if he doubts her word, he doesn't say anything right now. "Well, you come and talk to me if you think there's gonna be a problem, all right? I'm not here to give you shit, I ain't your parents. I'm here to help." He accepts his cup of tea with a smile to Tyr. "Thanks, mate." He shuffles over onto a couch of his own instead of sitting on the arm of Wren's.
Wren accepts the tea from Tyr with a grateful little smile, dropping the ice pack onto the seat beside her. Wrapping her fingers around the cup, she inhales the fragrant steam in silence a moment. "K," she responds to Grey's admonition in a more subdued, quiet tone, keeping her head lowered over the teacup.
Tyr puts down his tea to the side so he can pick up the ice pack and place it back on Wren's head. He doesn't say anything, just takes up a perch on the side of her couch, holding it there for her.
Grey smiles ever so faintly when Tyr holds the ice pack for Wren, hiding it behind his teacup which he lifts to his lips to take a sip. He keeps his silence then, just resting in his small little couch, drinking tea, and glowing.
The sudden placement of the ice pack on her head startles Wren a bit, and she flinches a little, hunching her shoulders protectively. But nothing bad seems to follow, and a moment later she relaxes again as the cold helps soothe her aching brainpan. Her eyes turn up rather comically, trying to see the pack that's resting on her head without moving away from it.
"Sorry," murmurs Tyr, as she starts at his replacement of the ice pack. "Just me." A quick little grin and he goes back to his ice back holding.
Grey's small smile grows a bit as he sips his tea. "It's too bad the Good Doctor ain't around. I'm sure she'd know how to work that fancy equipment in the Med Bay to get rid of whatever bruise you might have there. Me, I just know the old-fashioned stuff."
"Just you," Wren agrees, settling a little more comfortably on the couch and sipping her tea. Her eyes are even slowly beginning to drift shut a little, until Grey makes his comment. "You promised-- no doctors," she says, eyes snapping open, voice edged again with restrained panic as she stares at him.
"Ssh. Sssh. It's okay," says Tyr, the 'soothing, not mentioning doctors' cop to Grey's 'bad, mentioning doctors' cop. "We gotcha. No doctors."
"No Doctors - as long as it stays under control," Grey agrees. "That's what I said, aye." He goes back to his tea and dim glowing.
"No doctors," Wren reiterates, watching Grey with a hint of suspicion and moving a tad closer to Tyr. She tucks her feet up under her on the couch in an attempt to make herself smaller once more.
Tyr smiles and scoots a little on the arm of the chair, to give proximity support to Wren. See? Good, not mentioning doctors cop. He leaves the ice pack on her head, "Feel any better?"
Grey finishes off his tea rather quickly and sets the cup by the sink, heading for the stairs leading down. "I'm going to go check on the Engine Room for a bit," he says with a small wave. "Try to figure out what Isabella did on the repair there that I didn't. Just comm me if you need me."
Wren starts to nod, but then thinks better of it as the ice pack begins to slide a little. "Better," she agrees instead, hazel green eyes following Grey as he heads for the stairs.
Tyr smiles as Grey heads off and then looks down to Wren. "Glad you're feeling a little better," he smiles to her.
Sighing a little, Wren nods and takes another sip of her tea. "I keep causin' problems," she murmurs with a grimace.
Tyr shakes his head. "Naw, Wren. I mean, no trouble. We got you down, cleaned up, and got you some tea. Never a bad time to have tea, right?" He leaves the ice pack on. "No trouble at all."
Wren tilts her head a bit to get a better look at Tyr, studying him curiously. "Well, probably there are," she disagrees with a wry smile after some thought, but she doesn't volunteer when exactly those might be. "How come you're so nice?" she asks after another little pause.
Tyr shrugs. "Just my nature, I suppose," he allows. "'Sides. I like helpin' folks, and you seemed like you might need helping. And." And here he is teasing. "You look kinda cute, so how can I resist?"
Rapid blinking follows Tyr's last comment. "Cute?" The notion seems utterly foreign to her.
Tyr smiles and gives her a little nudge. "I'm just teasin' ya," he says. He seems to be taking it the wrong way. "But you know. You're pretty."
Wren bobbles a little from the nudge, and furrows her brow for a moment before giving Tyr a decided, if-you-say-so look. The tea is apparently in need of close examination, and so she peers at it for a little while. After a few moments of silence, she breaks it with the question, "Got a favorite number?"
Tyr doesn't laugh. Instead, he sort of thinks about it. "Well," he says. "I kinda like seven. Not sure why. It just seems like a neat number."
"Seven's pretty good," Wren agrees with an amiable nod. "I like 3 and 12," she confides to him, shifting a little on the sofa to lean against the arm of it.
Tyr smiles and doesn't seem to mind Wren closer to him, from his perch on the aim of the chair. "So what sort of hydroponics engineering do we do around here anyhow?" he asks.
"Right now's just a pretty standard drip line," Wren replies. "But I'm workin' on gettin' together the parts for a rotation garden," she continues, smiling a little as she settles into her topic. "See, you put all the plants on a big wheel, and let it rotate around the light in the center," she explains, demonstrating things by sketching them with her hands.
"Oh, wow," says Tyr, clearly fascinated by the whole idea. "That sounds super-fancy. My. And in a ship this small, too, you can do somethin' like that?"
"Specially with a ship this small," Wren responds with a nod. "Conserves a lotta space that way, maximizes the light that can get to the plants an' evens distribution," she explains. "Plus, cuz'a the way the plants grow, they're stouter, an' you can get better yields outta'em."
Tyr ohhs and nods his head. "I see. I see. So what sort of things do you grow? I mean, food-like, or some other sorts of things? Like flowers." He leans over, intensely curious.
"Well, on the bigger ships, I grew flowers some," Wren says, taking a sip from her rapidly cooling tea. "But there's not really 'nuff space or call for'em here, I don't think," she says with a thoughtful frown. "But mostly I grow fresh herbs an' vegetables. A few fruits too-- there're a few that do real well in the sorta rig I'm puttin' together. Strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, peppers-- I kept seeds from most'a the plants I grew on the other lines, so I've got a pretty good variety."
