How Many Minutes?
How Many Minutes?
Summary: How many minutes does it take Micah to save the world? Right about four, according to Jocasta's calculations.
Date: 89 ACH
Related Logs: n/a

Battlestar Genesis - Deck 9 - Observation Lounge (Rooster's Nest)

Castillo sits off by himself in the obs desk. It's a brief respite from the hectic work schedule he's been enduring over the past couple weeks… and a chance for a catnap without the distractions of the enlisted berthings. Staring out at the starfield, he settles into the comfortable chair.

Jocasta, too, is seeking respite. A little extra piece of peace to be found outside of an otherwise quiet bunk; the Air Wing might be the rowdy frat of the battlestar housing decks but, for whatever reason, the berths belonging to the Ares Squadron seem to see significantly less noise that that which gambles out of Gold. All the same, it's not to have a change of scenery, and so here she is… come to the place where the scenery is seemingly always changing. She picks out a double-wide seat near the back and withdraws what's left of her cancer-imbuing reserves when — "Frak." She forgot her fire. Lighter absent. Ain't that always the way?

'Frak' carries a little across the relatively quiet observation deck. It's just when Castillo is about to close his eyes that he hears it… and the voice sounds familiar. He hazards a turn back to confirm his suspicion and indeed, it's Jojo.

Indeed, it is. It's Jojo without her lighter, or so her slightly perturbed patting of pants and pockets seems to suggest. She's sitting there with a skinny cigarette bouncing between her lips while she mutters a small slew of profanity at her own thoughtlessness. Frak it. Who else is here? Maybe Micah might be somewhere nearby so that she can borrow a light and — oh, frak. Bill. Spotted. Okay, so, just breathe a second. Play it cool, kid.

Slowly, Jocasta finds her feet and sidles right down the aisle to where Castillo's perched himself. "Hey," she says with eyes sliding over the man's face. "You still…?" Smoke, presumably, but she trails off at a primetime spot left open for interpretation.

Castillo silent watches Jo walk on down over to him, his eyebrows knitting for a moment. "Smoke? Drink? Frak?" Castillo asks as he fills in the blanks for the question. He shakes his head negatively as he continues. "Not since I got here. All three seem to be in short supply here. Unless you're one of the divinely commissioned…. Sir."

Really? Really, Bill?! Jocasta's brow knits together dark while her lips pinch up on the right side of her mouth around the skinny cancer stick stuck there betwixt. "So, no fire on you, then?" That's right. Just ignore the little barbs.

Castillo reaches into his fatigues and withdraws and thin, worn book of matches. There's about a dozen still in there. Waving them in the air he says, "No, I've been carrying them with me in case I score something." He gestures with the book towards Jo. "Trade ya."

Micah comes in from Corridor 9A.
Micah has arrived.

Jocasta shores up into the nearest seat next to Castillo below plucking the unlit cigarette from between her lips and extending it to the Marine as she makes her counter, "How about we share?" Peace offering. That's what this is.

Castillo rotates the book back between his fingers and nods his acceptance, "Deal." He tears out the match from the book and scrapes it against the cover a few times before it catches and flares up. Cupping his hand around the flame he extends it towards Jo. "Ladies first," he says then pauses with a smirk. "Not that anyone ever accused you of being one."

Micah saunters onto the observation deck, dressed in off-duties and making absolutely no effort to sneak. You can hear that boot thumping from the other end of the battlestar. Oh, lookee here, it's… just Maru and some marine, sharing a smoke. "Hey," he mumbles in passing, and rifles through his pocket for a cigarette of his own as he approaches the viewport.

The countermeasures officer continues to smirk, even as she sucks in the first black lung blessing of smoke down her throat before exhaling heavily in the Marine's direction, not shy about slinging the cloud toward his face, either. She then extends the cigarette to be shared over toward him and makes note of Micah's arrival with an uncharacteristic grin. "Hey."

Castillo doesn't seem to mind the cloud of smoke. He's been barely existing on second hand smoke for the past couple of weeks. Taking the cig from Jo, he holds it between forefinger and thumb, rolling it lightly for a moment so the smoke wafts up on his skin. Then he brings filter to his lips and takes a long, slow drag and closes his eyes. He extends his arm back to Jo, but leans back in the chair holding in the smoke for a couple of seconds before slowly exhaling through his nose and then out his mouth. "Damn, I needed that."

Bayless comes in from Corridor 9A.
Bayless has arrived.

Micah doesn't look as caught off-guard by Jocasta's grin as he otherwise might. Half turning from his study of the viewport window, he offers one in return. A crooked little thing, as he's lighting his cigarette. Castillo gets a brief once-over with his eyes, and then he's tucking the smoke between his teeth and shoving his hands in the pockets of his fatigues. Back to watching the stars.

The addition of one more body to the observation lounge officially qualifies it as crowded enough for Jocasta to consider keeping her voice down. Good thing, too, because even as the words "That's not the only thing you need." fall out of her mouth while she reclaims the cigarette currently being shared with the Marine by her side, they could easily be misconstrued as inappropriate. Because they are. Yes, Virginia, that's innuendo. Subdued and smooth and delivered through a swiftly blooming cloud of smoke but casual conversation isn't quite the same without it.

There's a sidelong stare given to Jo by the MP. He extends his fingers towards the pilot, reminding her of their deal. "Yah, well I'll chock it up to luck that the brass has been keeping me busy enough so I won't dive head first into making another mistake." He turns his head towards her and asks, "So what's your excuse?"

Lucky for the countermeasures officer, St. Germain seems rather oblivious to the 'I' word tonight. He's got what you might call a little something on his mind, or so the circumspect look on his face might indicate. A hand withdraws from his pocket to pin his cigarette between two fingers, smoke exhaled through his nose as he stares out the window— or merely watches his reflection in it.

Bayless strolls into the lounge, yawning and looking as though sleep was the intended activity and failure was the result. Apparently looking to find rest someplace other than her bunk, Mama Raptorbunny finds herself a comfy chair and collapses into it.

"My mistakes apparently have very hectic schedules." Mistakes. Plural. How true. Jocasta drawls a wordless cloud of smoke as she exhales heavily and settles into a silence that seems for all the world to make the gravity of the lounge just that much heavier.

Castillo plucks the cigarette back out of Jo's finger and bides some time by taking another long drag. He leans forward and looks around the obs deck, noting another new arrival and not really doing much to appear subtle in checking out everyone else. "Mistakes, huh?" he asks rhetorically and sneaks another quick drag before handing the half burned up cigarette back to Jo. "What did you do, decide to try out the fleet meat? You shoulda known better than to go outside the family, Jojo." He offers her a smirk and adds, "It's no lie that once a Marine hot bunks with a lady, she's ruined for other men."

Micah checks his watch briefly. So much for smoke break, it's apparently time to get back on duty. One last, particularly indulgent drag is taken of his cigarette, then he stabs the thing out in an ashtray sitting on the ledge, and turns about to leave Jocasta to her… mistakes. "Evenin' sir," he greets Bayless as he passes, ticking off a lazy two-fingered salute.

Bayless grins to herself with some amusement, not willing to interrupt Jo's interlude with Castillo, though she does remember the Marine as the one who woke up nearly the entire air group a while back. Micah's departure gets a return salute. "Jailhouse."

When Micah tries to make his escape after smoking only a single cigarette and fleeing the scene, Jocasta all but lunges for the departing brig rat, unabashedly stretching across the lap of the cigarette-smoking Marine seated between her and the aisle. "Hey," she says, trying to snag the Jig by a loop on his fatigues. "Where're you goin'?"

"Hey, watch the smoke," Castillo chastises as he hurriedly raises his arms and that precious nicotine delivery system out of harm’s way. He's not exactly protesting the fact that Jo's leaning across his lap, but he's not trying to jumpstart the four year old corpse either. Another drag is taken while she tries to snag Micah; hey it's her fault she passes up her turn to suck ash.

Aw, Frak. Jo's spotted him slinking off, after all. Not like a finger through a belt loop is really enough to stop one hundred ninety pounds of pilot, but in the interests of not breaking his ex-girlfriend's finger.. Micah halts. And turns an arch look on the ECO. "To the berthings, to change an' shower, for CAP in an hour. The same CAP you're doin' with me." Because it takes an hour to get ready for CAP. Yeah.

Bayless glances over to the antics between Micah and Jocasta and just grins. A shake of her head precedes her curling herself up in the chair she's seated in.

You know what's awesome? How truly clueless both Micah and Bill are about the nature of just how intimately related to one another they are. Of course, if it were up to Jocasta, they would never, ever find out, either. Because, well, she knows Bill… and she knows Micah… and she figures she's got a pretty solid handle on how that discussion might sort out. It'd either end in lots of bloodshed or big laughs at her expense and neither makes for a particular appealing incentive. Of course, is that going to prevent it from happening? No. But, for now, she's playing it blissfully ignorant. "Right," she says, snatching the cigarette from between Castillo's lips before stealing what might be the last drag to be had without burning fingers or lips. "Not gonna take a little detour down to officer berths, eh?" Oh, hey. That's an Eve reference. Nice. Very subtle, Jo. Also? Not in the least bit insulting. Well done. Where's her gold star?

It's now Castillo's turn to play voyeur to the antics of the Micah and Jojo show. He doesn't interject any how-do-you-do's as it seems they're talking shop with all that CAP and officer berthings business. So, he decides to offer a brief wave of acknowledgment to Bayless with one of his sill upraised hands.

"I said I only had an hour," Micah repeats, patiently. He's staying, though, for the time being. One buttcheek resting on a chair opposite the pair smoking up, arms folding across his chest. Has he been working out? Why yes, yes he has. "Five minutes to change, ten minutes in the shower, five more to get up to the ready room an' ten for the briefing an' gun tape review. Let me count…" And he does, on his fingers, one at a time. "That leaves thirty minutes. You know I don't like to rush things, Jojo." Which… is patently false.

Bayless returns Castillo's wave, but the exchange between her ECO and the Viperjock has her immediate attention. She suppresses a smile when Micah mentions his distaste for haste.

"So, what… you stop in, say hi to Evie, bounce around a bit in her bunk, and that leaves you with, what? Twenty-five? Twenty-six minutes to spare?" Ouch. Oh well. He brought it on himself, didn't he? Micah knows better than to leave his ex-girlfriend an opening like that.

Meanwhile, Jocasta's stretched out and all-smiles while still partially occupying Castillo's lap… until she has the good sense to realize that maybe leaning out into the aisle after a comment like that might not be wise. Cue the lean back in her seat as she offers the Marine now designated as the buffer between her and the Viper jock a wink and a nudge in addition to what's left of the dregs for a drag. Haha. See? It's funny. Insert laugh track here.

Castillo arches an eyebrow at Micah's use of 'Jojo', which then meets its opposite twin in a brief furrow that's directed at Jo. Released from the confines of her prone form, he's once again able lower his arms and recline comfortably in the chair. The corporal takes the last bit of smoldering cigarette from her, nearly squeezing the cherry off, and takes the final drag. The tobacco is burned clean down to the filter which gives off a bit of an acrid smell. Now that the important business of the smoke has successfully concluded, Castillo can't help but chuckle and remark, "Damn."

He did rather leave himself wide open for that, didn't he? It probably deserves some kind of follow-up, but Micah lacks either the heart for it tonight, or maybe the perspicacity. "Been a long while since we knocked boots, Jojo. Things change." He's not even smirking as he says it. Furthermore, that sounds like a flat-out admission, there. He shoves his hands in his pockets, and shifts his gaze briefly to Castillo, then back. The 'who the frak is this?' practically asks itself. Not that he's going to ask it.

Bayless sighs and realizes this is probably going to escalate into the battle of the exes, and she's simply too tired to intervene. She crawls out of the seat, but makes her way over to the trio. "Jammer, you seen Wide Load around anywhere?" she asks Jocasta, flicking a few stray hairs out of her face.

Well played, Baybay. Well played. Jojo's attention is instantly shed from the conversation bound to be brewing between exes and the question posed by her squadron leader. "Not lately, sir." Come to think of it, Jo hasn't seen hide nor hair of Kalypso since… "She never manage to make it back over from the Destiny?" Just posing the question makes the countermeasures officer's eyebrows knit.

Now it’s Castillo's turn to give Micah an appraising once-over. But before he can make a comment about 'fleet meat' or a myriad of other ones to Jo, Bayless breaks into the conversation. The topic of someone going AWOL is a bit more interesting to the MP for the moment, anyway. Busting Jo's chops some more can wait until later.

<Trait Roll> Micah rolls Awareness and achieves a degree of Mediocre (2).

Melia comes in from Corridor 9A.
Melia has arrived.

Micah either doesn't notice, or doesn't care that the marine's looking him up and down in that appraising manner. Fleet meat, huh? News of Kalypso gone missing raises a brow, however; he looks between the Ares leader and ECO curiously, departure stalled once again.

Melia comes bouncing, albeit tiredly, into the Obs Deck carrying a cloth covered book open in one hand. She's got her nose buried in it, except for when she's making sure she's walking in a straight line. Straight lines, after all, are quite important.

Bayless frowns, Jocasta's answer not bringing the comfort. "Great. On top of everything else I gotta declare her AWOL. If any of you manage to catch her staggering back on board, send her my direction please?" She is clearly not happy about this turn of events.

So much for sarcastic fun and games. Jocasta's now fallen into a troubled sort of quiet and she slips down into her seat and plucks at her lower lip with a pair of fingers while shying her face away from pretty much everyone else in the room. She picks out a fair corner of the deck and just stares at it blankly.

And on that downer of a note, Castillo rises from his seat. He shakes himself free of any lingering ash, instead of brushing it off and into his clothes. "Thanks for the smoke," he says to Jo and then gives a general, "Evenin', sirs," to the rest of the pilots.

"Will do, sir," Micah replies. A glance is spared for the suddenly-gone-quiet Jo, but he's not going to press her. Not after all that… sarcastic fun and games, at his expense. He checks his watch again quickly, and pushes away from the chair he'd been leaning against. "Sullivan," he greets in passing, as he ambles on out.

Micah ticks off a salute to the marine, as well, before he ducks out.

Melia looks up as she hears voices and glances around, taking a note of the mood, which has her smile dimming just a little. "Evening Sir," she tells Micah as he goes. Poor girl looks like she doesn't know whether to go or stay.

Bayless smiles to Melia as she enters the lounge. "Sorry to drop a blanket on the mood," she says to Castillo and Jocasta apologetically. She then starts backing towards the hatch.

Jocasta flicks a quiet look up and over to Castillo and says, "Sure." After a beat, she adds, "Any time." Once the boys make their play for someplace that's else, the countermeasures officer doesn't have the heart to linger much longer. She's on her feet and heaving out into the corridor because, well, Micah was right. They've got a little less than an hour left before pulling CAP.

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