Summary: Eve and D'Artanion start out with a pleasant drink, which turns to a serious matter. Gaelen stops in, and things make a turn towards Evelyn's new apparent scarlet letter.
Date: 33 ACH
Related Logs: Numerous. Search 'Indescretions' and 'Wake of a Mistake'

The Rabbit Hole (Gen. Lounge) Genesis - Deck 9
33 ACH 6285 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: Eve Triad Deck Wireless 228
Exits: [O] Corridor

Is it afternoon? Evening? Does it matter? Having just come off shift, D'Artanion heads straight for the lounge. This is unusual for her, though it is unlikely that anyone there knows that. Stepping in, she unbuttons the front flap of her uniform to show that she is dutifully off duty. Or, something like that. The woman walks across the lounge, aiming for what appears to be an empty table. Maybe she'll be lucky.

What appears to be an empty table was really just vacated for a moment. Perhaps Eve had wandered off to use the head, and is now returning to her seat where there's a bottle of rum and a single glass. She eases back onto her perch, offering D'Art a smile as the medic approaches.

Seeing that her intended refuge is already occupied, D'Artanion almost turns away. The smile gives her pause and she registers the fact that the other woman is known to her, if only by sight. One hand lifts in a half hearted wave that edges toward one of the chairs, "Hey… Uh. Do you mind if I join you? I was sorta looking for you earlier."

Eve gives a shake in the negatory, but its the sort of 'I don't mind' not 'get your Marine butt out of here'. "Seat's free. Shame to let it go to waste. And they say you shouldn't drink alone." The glass is refilled and slid to the chair offered to Amalina, relegating Evelyn to drink out of the flask sized bottle. The horrors. "Looking for me, you say?"

D'Artanion pulls the seat out and claims it with the sort of sigh that is only offered up by the bone weary, "Yeah. I wanted to tell you a couple of things. Is now a good time? Or no?" The rum is accepted with a grateful smile, "Thanks." Lifting the glass she takes a fairly good sized swig, then lowers it. Her eyes close and she shudders faintly as the liquid burns it's way down.

Eve only quirks a faint brow at D'Art's downing action, "Seems you needed a drink more than I did, Gunny. There is no better time than the present, unless you're asking for a professional eval, then I prefer to be in my office and slightly more.." She looks down at the bottle in hand, "Sober." She says definitively.

D'Artanion is sitting at a table off to one side. She has a partially full glass of something dark in front of her. Eve sits at the same table and has a flask sized bottle of something equally dark in front of her. "Yeah. Guess so." Licking her lips, she perks her brows, "Hey, that's good. Thanks again." Then, the brows lower and she returns to the question at hand, "Nah, I don't need a consult. I was going to ask you to stop in and see that pilot. Something happened today and… Gods, I could just frakin' throttle…" Taking a breath, she smiles and tries again, "Uh. Yeah. Stop in and see the pilots, please?"

Eve opens her mouth to say something, but merely claps it shut again. Once more she tries to talk, and fails, lips closing in a goldfish out of water effect. Finally her shoulders slump with a sigh. "Novella and Saint Germain, I take it. What did he do?" Apparently blaming the want to throttle on the latter of the two.

Gaelan wanders into the lounge. Oddly enough the Major has an odd smirk of a smile on his lips. Not paying much mind to those around him he makes an immediate route correction towards the table of drinks. Looking over what's there he finally decides on a cup and fills it with some coffee. Looking to the contents he shakes his head and finally turns to look towards those assembled and notices one of his Marines, D'Artanion. Gaelan starts to walk towards the pair at the table and speaks up in his rasped tone, "Hopefully I am not interrupting. Mind if I join?"

D'Artanion watches the woman's gold fish impersonation and a slight smile begins. It dies, however, "Yes and no. Please talk with St. Germaine. But, he did not do much wrong." Much. "I do not know how you operate, Doc, or I'd offer more information. Do you want me to tell you what happened? Or get it from him?" She lifts the glass for another swallow when Gaelan makes himself known. Looking over, she half smiles, "Hey, Major. It's fine with me if the Doc's okay with it." Motioning to Eve, she adds, "Have you two met?"

Well. Shit. This is where she's supposed to tell D'Artanion that she can't officially counsel Micah for reasons undisclosed, but then, Gaelan is joining them. There is a slight stiffening to Evelyn's frame, but a smile finds her features anyways. "Major." She looks down to the flask of rum in her hands, then to his coffee cup. "Sweeten that up for you?" She offers, if only to take the attention off the fact that they haven't met, but surely her name will strike a bell if its brought up.

Gaelan eyes the flask and shakes his head as he lifts his cup, "I am still in uniform, or I would." Looking between the two he shifts the cup to his off hand and extends his left hand towards her and comments, "Major Pietr Gaelan, Batallion Commander of the Marines on this ship." So much for hiding the name idea. Leaning down slightly he sets the cup down in an available space but doesn't sit down. Yet.

Once more D'Artanion lifts the glass, blissfully unaware of the particulars of the situation. Poor thing. It'll be a 'treat' when she finds out just what has happened. Looking up at Gaelan, she lifts a brow, "Still on duty? Sorry to hear that, sir." Turning, she motions to Eve, "This is Dr. Sloan." Her gaze turns to Eve then and her smile warms, "The Major is one of the good ones." Whatever that means. Maybe one of the good Marines, as plenty of them of late have given the Gunny cause for grief.

Eve doesn't even pause with apprehension before she's offering over her hand. Show no weakness in the face of aversion. And the gods know, Evelyn's seen her fair share of it the past week or so. She fills out D'Art's introduction a little more. "Lieutenant Evelyn Sloan, Em Dee. Company psychiatrist." Unlike the Major, she's completely dressed in off duties, so imbibing in a little nip isn't an offense. Besides, Fotilas started it.

Gaelan smiles and returns the shake firmly before sitting back down, "Well it's a pleasure to meet you finally Doc. Heard your name periodically." Glancing over to D then back to Eve as he adds with a rasped voice, "Nothing but good things." Lifting his cup up he takes a slow sip he glances back over towards D he shrugs slowly, "When ever am I off-duty Gunny? You doing ok in the Sickbay or do we need to send you on some combat missions and PT's to remind you of the life of the Marines?" Smiling towards D he leans back in the chair slowly.

D'Artanion laughs softly at Gaelan, "Didn't they tell you that I went to Leonis?" The laughter is relaxed, though her gaze has grown harder since her first meeting with the man. "But, send me on any mission you like, sir. I'm up for it." She lifts the glass and downs the rest of the liquid in it. Her uniform has the front flap lowered to signify that she is actually off duty. "And, to answer the rest?" She pauses, an angry snap showing in her gaze, if not her tone, "I think I am needed in sickbay, sir. At least for the foreseeable."

Eve relaxes slightly, with no forthcoming ass chewing or dirty looks. This is progress, especially considering it came from the Marine Batallion Commander. Then again, maybe he hasn't gotten the memo yet. Evelyn releases a breath she wasn't aware she was holding, and her smile softens. "I dare say they're busy enough. When shrinks become nurses, its a scary situation." But its said lightly.

Gaelan nods slowly and smiles beween the two, "Well I am glad to see the sickbay is driving you both to drink." Lifting his cup to the pair in a faux cheer he takes another sip and looks over to Eve, "So how do you feel about having regular psych evals of Marines?" Fingers lightly drum the cup as he sets it on the table. Watching Eve curiously.

D'Artanion chuckles at Eve, though she nods, "Psyches should be psyching folk, I think. But, your help was invaluable, actually." She turns to Gaelan, then, eyes widening a bit and brows lifting, "Now, that's a good idea. Though, I think it'd be a hard sell in the Corp." Ordinarily, the woman wouldn't presume to answer a question aimed elsewhere, but both she and Eve are off duty. Turning, she looks at Eve to hear the woman's reply. Interest sparkles in her gaze.

Eve tilts her head slightly, watching Gaelan carefully as if she's still expecting him to bite. "I don't forsee that they are necessary beyond the standard six month interval, unless there is a report filed or request made. We're under a time of duress, but as a whole, we seem to be coping well enough. Perhaps if we had the resources, we could bump it up to every four, but.." A slight shrug, then a bit of a smirk is giving to D'Artanion for her response. "Maybe mandatory anger management classes.."

Gaelan smiles as he glances down to the cup then looks back to Eve, "They have those already. It's called combat and my boot up their ass." Glancing over to D he just nods, "I don't have to sell anything to the Marines, Gunny. It's called orders and I really hope they think they can disobey them, because that would just make my day." Picking up the cup he lingers it near his lips as his rasped voice comments to the two, "So tell me why you think they need anger management, Doc." Then the cup finds it's goal and tilts back for a slow drink.

Eve finds the cap of her glass flask of rum, her attention on screwing the metal piece back on to preserve what's left in the bottle. Seems the doc has had enough for one evening. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" Which usually comes before something entirely unflattering is about to be voiced.

D'Artanion comes really very close to becoming an abject example of why the Marines need anger management clases. The anger within her gaze flashes white hot and brilliant for an instant before she pulls the reigns in. This is Eve's question and answer session. Maybe she will claim time later to express her opinion. Maybe she won't. Rather than lash out, she nods to Gaelan, "Right. Orders." Rising, she pushes the glass back to Eve, "Thanks for the drink." Turning to Gaelan, she nods, "Excuse me, Major. I'm going to get some sack time before I have to go back to Sickbay." Lifting a hand, she waves to the two, then angles for the door. Slipping out into the hall, she is gone in short order.

D'Artanion leaves for Corridor 9C [O].
D'Artanion has left.

Gaelan passes a look toward D, watching her carefully a few moments he doesn't make a comment towards her as he nods to the Gunny. Watching her leave then passing a glance around the Lounge he looks back to Eve and purses his lips in a slow nod, "Of course Doc. As long as I can do the same when you are done." The Major's eyes lock with hers as he states that final comment, the cup lowering to rest on the table as he watches her intently curious to her next comment.

Eve's tongue poises on her upper lip for a moment in thought, "From my…humble…observations, it seems all the calls for the MPs over the intercoms seem to be aimed at the marine berthings lately. Fights are breaking out, people are getting injured. Brigged. All of that wastes precious resources, whether its the bandages it requires, the hours of the medical care requires, or the attention it requires and the stress it causes on the guards, the department heads, and the JAG. In this case, sir, shit doesn't roll down hill. It gets splattered all over the bulkheads to the point where we all have to shower afterwards just to get the stink off." Now she waits for his candid reaction.

Gaelan nods slowly as he watches her and listens. Waiting on her to finish he calmly responds, "I am well aware what happens in Marine Country and with all my Marines. Are you making a reference that I am not properly handling my troops and it's punishment?" Lifting the cup he calmly drinks again and lowers it with an added comment, "I respect your observations, so I am going to take them in as you intend and not as personal attacks."

Eve shakes her head, lowering her gaze to the table for the moment. "Wasn't a personal attack, no sir. Just an observation." Her dark eyes lift back to his lighter ones, "A suggestion, if you will. Would I be able to counsel each and every soul on this vessel, I would. We're all dealing with heavy losses. Marine. Navy. It doesn't matter. People are just lashing out how they know how. Your Marines? Know how to fight. Which, is supposed to be a compliment, in some backwards way, I suppose."

Gaelan nods with a slow smile, "I am aware of how they operate, Doc. I am one of them remember. I have been in their situations and this is their stress release and their bonding methods. We are not a normal creature, Doc. Far from it and that's what makes us extremely difficult to deal with. Unfortunately for the Navy we are frakkin' good at what we do. Indispensably so." Tapping his fingers on the cup he adds, "Realigning a good Marine is only done at the right time. Command hasn't given me that time until now, so trust me you will begin to see some things change." Looking back to the cup then towards her he comments, "So do you mind if I ask you a few questions about a memo I saw today?"

Eve can't help but smile. She knew it was coming afterall. "By all means." Though she certainly looks like she just tasted something sour.

Gaelan watches her reaction and smiles towards her as he glances around again, "Well you deserve the respect for things to be aired too publically. Who initiated the events? Was it consentual? Did you approach Major Altair before approaching Major Zaharis on this matter?" Looking back towards her he simply pushes his cup away and pulls his hands together and shifts slightly in chair to face her more directly.

Eve's smile falters just a hint on her lips, "Asking is one thing, having them answered is quite another. There are reports by my CO, JAG, and your own S-Two, Shem. All your answers should be covered in them. If there is something you require of me specifically, may I request that you speak to Major Zaharis. Sir." She stands from her seat then, but doesn't leave, presently.

Gaelan nods slowly as he looks towards her suddenly standing. Not making a move to leave or stand himself he pauses momentarily and motions to the chair, "Have a seat Doc. Consider the questions retracted and the matter no longer discussed. I just got curious because Sergeant Farkas is one of my works in progress and I wanted to make sure he didn't overstep himself, if you understand what I mean." Looking down to the cup he reaches out and grabs it and pulls it back towards him, bringing it up and taking a deep drink to drain the contents before looking back to her and waits to see if she does in fact leave or not.

Eve's smile is still a little pinched but it remains on her features. "I appreciate the retraction, and I understand your curiousity. But I was assured the matter was now closed from my end, and I think I prefer it that way. You'll excuse me, won't you? Rack time is precious, even on Condition Three." No, she's not going to retake her seat, but she will slip her flask of rum back into the pocket of her pants.

Gaelan nods as he glances up to her. Slowly standing as he adds with a glance towards her, "Your matter is closed but there will be an investigation on our side and charges will be filed pursuant to JAG's recommendations." Passing a nod, "Have a good rest Doctor. Have to get it when we can." Turning he heads towards the drink area with his cup.

Eve returns the nod, turning in the opposite direction for the door. Flee. Flee.

You head towards Corridor 9C.

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