Coffee and Casualties
Coffee and Casualties
Summary: Eve ducks into the lounge for a moment for a quiet place to read, ends up really meeting Craven and Eli for the first time.
Date: 30 ACH
Related Logs: None

The Rabbit Hole (Gen. Lounge) Genesis - Deck 9
30 ACH 6735 Souls

This large lounge/recreation area is here for the personnel of the Genesis. As any place where Officers and enlisted seem to come together, there are places for each. The Officers areas are more lounge-like and the enlisted have a couple couches, tables and chairs. Various computer games are here as well, including some foosball, driving or flying, shooting, etc. Along one wall a long counter has been setup with snacks, drinks and a sink.
----- < Condition Three - Public Area > ----——
Contents: Craven Eve Triad Deck Wireless 228
Exits: [O] Corridor

At this particular moment, the lounge is pretty vacant, save for the figure of Craven. He's seated over in the officer's section, nursing a cup of coffee, which has been craddled in his right hand. His left arm is held against his body, rather snuggly, by a sling, a sign of a recent injury no doubt. Little attention is paid to his surroundings, for the Medic seems intent on staring into his mug.

Everything in life is compromised by smaller things. Evelyn's journey here is compromised of steps, steps are compromised by muscle movements, which are compromised of synapses of her brain. Little nerve tingles that some how linked Evelyn with the Lounge, and so here she is. She brought a book with her, at least this time its a medical journal, instead of something Rhea has leant her. Four more steps. Now three, carry her into the officer's section of the lounge.

The Medic seems rather intent on staring into his coffee, like it's going to provide some form of insight or clarity to him. Finally, with a disgruntled "Hrmph", Craven lifts his eyes from the cup and lifts it to his lips, taking a long sip of the cool liquid before he's setting it back down on the table and pushing it aside. It's only then that he notices someone approaching and he's turning his head just enough to look over towards Eve, "Hey Lieutenant."

Eve manages to half flop, half fall into a couch opposite of Craven, feet flying akimbo when she's too tired to control them. "El Tee." She offers in response to the man who only recently became commissioned with the title. The journal is hugged to her chest as she looks across the expanse towards him. "What happened?" She asks softly, eyeing the sling with a hint of concern. Just because she never really had contact with him, doesn't mean she can't show some hint of compassion for his obviously injured condition.

Turning slightly in his chair to face Eve a little more, Craven eyes dart back down to his arm and then lift upwards, "Back on Leonis. We got called out to do a SAR mission and the Raptor we were in, got shot by a Raider. Let's just say .. crash landing makes for an interesting adventure." He's leaning back slightly in his chair, fingers lifting upwards to scratch at the side of his face, "How are things with you? All quiet in your neck of the woods?"

Eve lips open, forming a silent 'ah'. "Thank you then." A slight smile, tinged with a hint of sadness. "You helped bring back a friend." Evelyn really should keep closer tabs on who is deployed on those sorts of missions, but she hears of it sooner or later, when it comes across her desk in a fit of tears or anger. "I suppose its been quiet, relatively speaking." Its only her first day back on duty after being AIQ'd, but she doesn't press that point.

"Well, quiet is a good thing. At least .. I would think it's a good thing, right?" Craven's giving another smile, though he is leaning forward slightly, settling his right elbow on his knee, arm extended up so he can settle his chin in his palm. Bad posture! "One of your friends was on that mission? Well .. glad I was able to help, then. One of the Marines, I take it?"

Eve gives a vague shake of her head, glancing up to meet his eyes for a brief moment. "A pilot, actually. Micah Saint Germain." She leans back into the cushions, using the medical journal as a diversion for her attention. "I know I know." She mumbles. "Pilots don't have friends.." A pause. "So you crash landed into your shoulder, hmm?"

The mention of Micah brings a wince to Craven's face, but he's quickly whisking it away amongst one of those warm smiles that a Doctor gives to patients. "Ahh. Saint Germain. Glad he made it." That smile remains, followed by a somewhat mirthless chuckle, "Nah, pilots have friends. 'least, that ones I've spoke to." A shake of his head and his gaze drops back to his shoulder, "Pretty well. Raptors tend to not glide very well and when we hit the ground, I got tossed around like a rag doll and pulled the muscles."

Eve knows those smiles well, she can also identify his wince that was quickly glossed over. Its what she does, afterall, reads people. At least when she concentrates on the task. Needless to say, the psych doesn't get asked to a lot of Triad games. "There was a question, then? Was he touch and go?" She chooses to focus on that portion of the conversation, having selfish interest in it, of course.

Craven's probably mentally cursing the headshrink and when the question is asked, there's a quick shake of his head, "No. No. I was able to keep him stabilized the entire time, until we were able to get an Evac in and get us to the Pandora and then to the Genesis." His head lifts far enough off his hand so he can wave it somewhat, "He wasn't in any danger of passing on, I can assure you of that."

Eve pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, leaving it tucked there as if having to verbally bite back a response or a flood of other questions. Craven isn't one of her patients afterall, and she has to start drawing lines. Psychoanalysing has to take a break, at some point. "Well. I'm glad you're both safe. And the others." Except those that didn't make it back. "Job well done, and all that, hmm?" She offers a reassuring smile that falls a little flat.

Settling his chin back in his palm, Craven lifts his shoulders in a shrug and winces again as he does so, "Frak. I gotta stop doing that." He's shaking his head slightly before offering a faint chuckle, "Ya, safe. Glad I was able to bring some back." Sore point. But it's not dwelled upon, for he's sitting upwards in his chair all of a sudden, "On a brighter note, how the frak were things aboard the Genesis while we were gone?"

Eve opens her mouth to respond, but she merely closes it again. Looking for a moment like a guppy out of water. "Sorry, I would tell you if I could, but I was on involuntary vacation." She offers with a mirthless sort of smirk. "I'm gonna grab some coffee. Want a refill?" Evelyn offers, setting her book aside.

There's an arch of a brow and a slight cringe, "Involuntary vacation? That sounds bad. And good. Suppose it's a toss up, which way that went." He's casting a look over towards the coffee before giving a slight nod of his head, "But, please. I think I could use another cup of coffee. Last one went cold on me, without my permission."

Eve reaches out with a friendly smile to accept his cup from him, taking it gingerly before moving to the sink to pour the cold Java down it. That cup and another are filled by the urn, "Nothing I didn't deserve. A momentary lapse in judgement that needed to be corrected with a strong hand." She comments from over by the coffe, then turns to balance two overful mugs back towards the couches. "Major Zaharis has a natural knack for obliging where that is concerned." Smile turns to a rueful smirk as she offers the coffee back towards him. "You look like you need a few days shore leave, yourself, those are some pretty deep worry lines, my friend."

There's a silent nod of thanks as the cup is taken and Craven turns his chair to follow her movements, "Oiy. Ya, Doc's like that when it comes to lapses of judgements. But, he doesn't hold it against people. Willing to forgive and forget, so long as lessons are learned." He's giving another smile, but manages to stop himself from shrugging, "Nah, can't do shore leave. Needed here. Patients to deal with. Reports to fill out. Plus .. I don't worry." Well. It's amazing that his nose doesn't grow with each word that he speaks.

Eve settles down next to him, leaving her journal on the other couch for now. She found something more interesting to occupy her time. "Noble of you. But there is a certain respect that needs to be given to rejuvenating yourself. Hard to give of yourself, when you're all used up." She offers, her tone light and friendly, having just coming off four of a seven day AIQ that helped her gain a bit of new perspective on life. "At least we have coffee." She offers, raising her mug lightly in a bit of a toast.

He's accepting the mug, Craven offers a somewhat warmer laugh before he shakes his head slightly, "Rejuvenating? Frak .. that's not something I havn't had to think of, in awhile. But, I plan to take a day. Need to get away and go over a few things from Leonis." Seems to be talking about Vacation and Work in the same sentenace, "And yes, at least we have coffee. My faithful friend, who has only let me down the once." His own mug is lifted upwards in that toast.

Eve settles back into the cushions, pulling her coffee cup with her to awaiting lips. Her eye close briefly, appreciating that first taste as if this may be her last cup of coffee. "How could it ever. Coffee is bliss." She sighs with contentment, before her eyes reopen with a filter of lashes. "Getting away /and/ going over Leonis, hmm? Might I suggest you do that prior to getting away, and then on your mini vay-kay, doing something completely inane like…knitting. Do you knit? More men, should knit, El Tee."

His own cup of coffee is lifted to his lips and Craven is taking a sip of the liquid before lowering it back down, "Knit? Bah, I stitch people as part of my job. Last thing I want to do is pick up a needle in my free time." He's giving a soft laugh and shaking his head, "It'll be a mini vacation for me, even talking about Leonis. It's how I do things, I guess. Never was one to set work completely aside. Couldn't do it in school and certainly havn't done it since joining the Military. And please, call me 'Stitch'. Everyone else does and it sounds better then El Tee."

Eve watches him over the rim of her coffee cup, not lowering it far enough to let it grow cold or forget about it for any length of time. "And yet, it has a certain macabre tone to it, doesn't it. Afraid I haven't earned a nickname yet beyond 'Fainter', so feel free to call me Eve when we aren't all suited up."

"Ya, well, what can I say?" Craven's giving another soft laugh, "Always was good with stitching people up, so Blondie gave me that name back in school. Works well enough and it's sorta just stuck through everything." He's then giving a shake of his head, followed by another laugh, "Fainter's not going to work. And if you're part of our department, you're going to need an appropriate nickname. I'll have to consult the rest of the Mad Medical Misfits and see what we can come up with."

Eve gives a crooked little smirk. "Afraid it was Major Z that came up with that one. Though I did threaten if he used it, I was going to wallpaper his office with those pink princess adhesive bandages we had a surplus of." She tilts her head slightly to the left, hair fanning out behind her on the cushion as she gets comfortable. "Let me guess…Blondie is…D'Art?" The question indicates she's not precisely in the 'in' crowd of med bay.

The mention of the bandages has Craven laughing rather heartily for a moment before he shakes his head, "Oh gods. That would just be amazing to see. Not to mention the Doc's face when he walked into that." He's pausing then, before giving a quick nod of his head, "Ya. Gunnery Sergeant Amalina D'Artanion. She walks the other line. That being, my equiviliant on the dark side." By dark side, he must mean the Marines. "She really doesn't have a nickname. Blondie's something I've just called her since we were kids."

Eli comes in from Corridor 9C.
Eli has arrived.

Eve is seated on a couch with Craven, both sipping from cups of coffee in the 'officer' section of the lounge. On the opposing couch is a forgotten medical journal, the title of which bespeaks of therapeutic alternatives to chemically treating depression. Evelyn is smiling to Craven, sharing quiet conversation, "That's a long time to know a person, Stitch." She tries out his nickname, trying to decide if it'll stick on her tongue or not. A dramatic sigh is given then. "Unfortunately, I don't have the patience to stick through peeling off all those plastic backings to do it. I would have gotten bored half way through plastering his desk."

There's another soft laugh and Craven is giving a nod of his head, "Ya, well. Sorta grew up with her. Went to school with her. Though, when I enlisted, we lost touch for a few years. Luck of the draw that we ended up here." He's offering a grin at the mention of bandages, giving another shrug that draws a wince, though he doesn't comment this time, "Ya, I can see how it would try the patience, but just imagine the reward of seeing the 'Doc' absolutely stunned."

Fingers are ran through her hair as she bows her head, wearily, entering the area with her usual steady gait. Eli has come to the lounge, in her effort to be more social. A long pause near the entrance though…where she heads towards the area for the enlisted couches, squinting from time to time, as she moves a hand to idly stroke Betty at her side as she settles down.

Eve eyes lift to watch Eli's entrance, trailing the acting MaA with her gaze as she settles over at the enlisted section. "Don't you find it archaic, that we continually seperate ourselves?" She asks as an aside, before her attention turns back to Craven fully. "Well, next time its warranted, you can be my partner in crime. We'll take turns being the lookout." They appear to be talking about pasting the CMO's walls with Pink Princess adhesive bandages.

When Eve's attention is turned away, Craven looks over towards the doorway and catches the entrance of the MaA. A hand is lifted and he's giving a wave towards Eli before turning back towards Eve, "Can't disagree there. It's supposedly 'bad' to socialize between Officers and Enlisted on a regular basis. Can't say I was one to agree with that though. Maybe, it's because I've been in both spots." He's turning back and lifting a hand, motioning for Eli to join, if she chooses. Then, it's back to Eve, "You got yourself a partner, then."

Eli looks up at the wave, tentatively raising a hand back to Craven, glancing over to Eve thoughtfully before looking back towards Craven as she pushes herself back to her feet, making her way over. Hand falls away from Betty as she folds her hands behind her back and clears her throat. "Can I…help you sirs?"

Eve falls silent, having just been proverbially bitchslapped for frakking with the last MaA, she's not about to put herself on the line for this one. Even if its for something as simple as inviting them to sit. So she's merely quiet, offering a friendly smile to Eli and letting the pressure fall to Craven.

Craven looks around quickly, first to Eve and then towards Eli as he begins to narrow his eyes slightly. Then, his right hand lifts, for the left is snugged tightly in a sling, and he's motioning towards a seat, "Sit, Sergeant. Relax. Have some coffee. It's good for the soul." And probably hell on the stomach. Maybe he feeds people it to keep them chugging on into sickbay. Or something.

Eli sits down, still sitting up straight and arching an eyebrow uncertainly as she slips Betty from where 'she' usually hangs at her side, folding her hands over the nightstick on her lap and she looks between Craven and Eve. "Ah…thank you sirs…" She replies carefully, those intense blue eyes squinting again before looking down to her lap.

Eve lifts her own cup of coffee for a quick sip, contemplating something before she leans across the expanse, her hand offered towards Eli. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've properly met. I'm Lieutenant Evelyn Sloan, Em Dee. Company psychiatrist." Already she's taking in how Eli treats the nightstick, as if filing away that information.

Craven's no where near as formal as Eve, for he's lifting a hand again, waving at Eli, "And I'm Stitch. One of the Doctor's and Lead Medic." The hand lowers and he's chuckling softly, "So, please. No more 'Sir'. Stitch will do, just fine. And .. relax. We don't bite." He pauses. "Well, I don't, anyways." He nods to Eve with his chin, "Can't speak to her though." He's beginning to rise from his seat, grabbing his coffee cup and shifting it to his left hand, "Coffee refill. Eve, you want another?" He's looking to Eli then, "How about you?"

Eli's mouth opens and shuts before she reaches out to take that hand carefully, shaking it firmly and nodding firmly. "I'm…Sergeant Eli…Browne. I'm the MaA right now. Very nice to meet you." Another firm nod before she looks over to Craven. She's sitting with a doctor and a psychiatrist. Stroking Betty. The…yeah, that's too easy as she just finally nods slowly. "Very nice to meet you as well…Stitch." Then she falls silent, shaking her head at the offer of coffee. "No thank you si-Stitch."

Eve pops up as Craven rises. "No no. Please. Let me." She offers, standing in Craven's way as if she won't take no for an answer. The hand Eli shook is now reaching out for Craven's mug, as if refilling it gives her some purpose. "Least I can do." Perhaps that's a wink towards their previous conversation.

Craven gives a quick blink as he finds his path blocked, but he's quickly nodding his head and allowing the cup to be seized from his hand, "Alright then. I'm not going to argue." Giving Eve a smile, he's lowering himself back down into his chair so that he can look back over towards Eli, "So, Sergeant, how ya enjoying your time as the Master at Arms?"

Eli's eyes linger curiously on Eve before drifting back towards Craven and she grips and relapses her grip then grips again her nightstick, considering the question for a few moments. "I am…enjoying the challenges it um. Provides?" It is an awkward response in that gender neutral surferish dude voice but she elaborates. Really! "I haven't broken any bones."

Eve drags both mugs back over to the urn, head twisted to keep track of the conversation as she goes about filling them blindly. Of course, scolding hot coffee and inattention really don't go hand in hand, and there's soon a hiss of pain and Eve doing a little awkward juggle of coffee cups as she burns the curve of her fingers in the stream of black java. "Frak."

There's a soft laugh towards Eli and Craven is givng a nod of his head, "Broken bones. Not good. They make me work." He's flashing a smile before looking over towards Eve, watching as she manages to burn herself with the not-so-fabled coffee. There's an arch of a brow and he's shaking his head slightly, "Don't bother running that under cool water, Eve. I've got some ointment right here that'll take the sting away."

Eli's eyes widen as she watches Eve burn herself with coffee. She opens her mouth and then shuts it, quickly looking away when Craven talks about ointment. Officers are weird :( - "That's the same thing my ma used to tell my sister when she came home from a date." - That was her outloud voice and she 'dohs' and bites her bottom lip, concentrating on her nightstick. "Not that…my sister picked up alot of stds on her dates, or had any…rashes she needed help with at all. That would imply she was a slut. Ahah…hahah…ha, wow."

Eve shifts the handles of both mugs to one hand, now shaking her free hand to relieve it of the sting. "I'm fine, I'm fine." She protests with a hint of a rueful laugh, which only increases with Eli's little segway into her sister. She doesn't tend to laugh at people, so perhaps it can qualify as 'with' her. Even though Eli's laugh is awkward. "Coffee and casualties." Evelyn offers with a smile as she edges back over towards the couch, giving Craven his refilled mug back.

Eli scratches her head and then squints at Eve again then gestures towards her nightstick. Whatever she's going to say though…she changes her mind and then finally admits. "This is really hard." Another pause. "I mean the talking thing, not the…non-phallic shaped instrument of physical discipline I am gripping to for dear life due to my…not being sure what is the appropriate social protocol in this sorta counter culture of military reality I've been invited to join in on, naturally." A pause. "…okay, yeah, sure, Betty is technically hard but I wasn't making reference to my hitty thingie here. I was talking about the communication thing cuz I have no idea what to talk about here seeing as a conversation about casualty causing coffee would be the start of a horrible horror story that would most likely deter people from trying to get IV drips of the stuff then nobody would be drinking coffee and the whole supply infrastructure of the ships would explode in a shower of coffee beans, coffee filters and the essence of a caffeine." Then…she breathes. And strokes Betty. Yep.

Yep. Craven is over talking on that wireless. That's probably a good thing, for he'd certainly have some comment to make about that non-phallic shapped instrument of physical discipline. Especially once Eli begins to strok it.

Eve reaches out to set her cup down on the nearest flat surface, her hand still treated gingerly, though it could be far worse. "Well. At least you are in touch with your inner…" She presses her lips together to keep her from saying something that perhaps can be construed maliciously. "Social graces. But rest assured, I don't bite either. Conversation is what you want it to be, no pressures. Just casual." Eve does, however, give 'Betty' one more look.

Craven has left.

"I have social graces?" Eli finally blurts out, sounding a bit amused as she looks down to herself and then back up to Eve. "I…appreciate the bite thing. I'd have to let you and then I'd turn into a were-shrink. Cuz I could never hit…a uh, lady. That would all rude. And then I'd start asking people about their mothers…" The MaA trails off before coughing. "I'm sorry. Um." Then she holds out Betty towards Eve. "Did you…want to touch it?" She's trying.

Eve gives an honest warm smile, her eyes dancing with amusement at the offer. "Thank you. But that's somethign quite personal, isn't it? Just like I would never presume to ask to fire another's gun." Her glance is over at Craven, who has to scoot for some sort of medical call following the wireless conversation. "I should go get this looked at, if only so they can snicker in med bay at my distraction issues." She offers, raising her scalded hand as if in explanation. "It was nice to meet you, Sergeant."

Eli ohs softly and then something dawns on her. "…well not /that/ personal." She shudders and coughs. "Err..g'luck with the whole…hand thing. Then." She sighs, shoulders slumping. "Very nice to meet you too, please take care."

Eve dips her head briefly towards Eli. "You too." Is offered quietly to Farkas' replacement, before she takes her cup of coffee and retreats back to the hallway to, presumeably, get her hand looked at.

You head towards Corridor 9C.

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