Ignition Wires And Closure
Ignition Wires and Closure
Summary: Micah goes to practice a little pyramid, ends up running into a couple of technicians.
Date: 39 ACH
Related Logs: None

Gymnasium Genesis - Deck 9
39 ACH 6285 Souls

Workout areas are abundant here along with benches and water dispensers. Running machines, rowing machines and lifting. There is a place for sparring with lockers that hold the equipment. Off this area, there is an athletics court and a pool.
-----< Condition Three - Public Area >----

"A hain't got nei'er mare nor stally— an' e'en 'fin Ah haid? Ah'd not go wastin' 'em on prankin's," Snatch assures Chase. "Y'ns gone fix in?" she then asks. "Git on ahead… jus' so long's the nex' un t'clammer onna her ain't gone lan' up faced-downed on 'ere…" She's over by a dead-looking stationary running machine, with Chase. Her hair's wet from the pool, and she wears her sweatpants over the bottom half of her bathing suit.

Micah bustles into the gym, dressed (unsurprisingly) in sweats and a t-shirt. He's carrying a pyramid ball tucked under one arm, and a towel draped around his shoulders. The latter is tossed into a locker along with his jacket, and he begins rolling his shoulders as he heads for the athletics court — and draws up short, when he spots Mopsus. There's someone with her, who receives a curious look from the kid, as well as the aforementioned dead treadmill. Hmmm.

Chase blinks at Snatch again. There's this three second delay going on, his expression half-perplexed, half-baffled, as he struggles to keep up with her words. "I blame user error," he tells her dryly. "Unless this one has a habit of ambushing people. Which wouldn't surprise me. Could be something in the circuit relay."

Snatch stares back at Chase, his inability to keep up with the conversation perhaps helping convince her of the machine's lack of fault in this case. "Ou-ais," she agrees, heading to the wall to get the thing powered up again. "Whyncher leave min take a vin?" she tells him slowly. "Ain't Ah seen yin before?" she asks him further as she gets power back to the unit. Looking up, she spots Crow, and seems pleased enough to see him around and alive, though she doesn't call out to him, yet.

Micah runs the tip of his tongue across his upper lip thoughtfully, and then decides to prowl on closer to the pair and their borked-up treadmill. The pyramid ball is rolled onto his palm and flipped a few inches into the air, and caught again deftly. "Del Boccyo," he greets the snipe gruffly, eyes flitting toward Chase again for another brief study; he doesn't make eye contact with either of them. "Problem with the machine?"

Chase nods solemnly at Snatch. "Probably so. I've been around. On the Deck, mostly. Where I repair things the pilots break, which tends to be a whole lot and keeps me busy. Then I was told to get a social life and stop growling when they tried to take the Vipers out. And to dismantle the bear traps. And return the ignition wires. And stop trying to build a still out of an old engine." He finally comes to a rambling stop, and adds, "Chase Alderman." For Micah's edification, he tacks on, "PEBUAM: Problem existed between user and machine."

Snatch nods briefly to Crow in recognition of his greeting. It's likely as not she's not still mad. But awkwardness is almost a given, considering everything. "Ou-ais," she tells Chase with a more amiable manner, chewing on her tongue until she places him. "Mahn Cap'm leaves min git on deck detail now'n agin, when y'all's swamped unner," she explains why she might recognize him. "Del Boccyo… Mopsus Doe, Third PO," she introduces herself backward, like you do in the military. "Folks ken min's Snatch."

Micah's probably aware of what a PEBUAM is. It might be the acronym that has him suddenly scowling, or it might be Chase's flight deck confessions. He jabs a finger in the man's direction. "Was that YOU who took my frakking ignition wire?" Bristle bristle. Let's see how angry we can make the viper jock. "That wasn't frakking funny." Awkwardness? There's plenty of it between he and Snatch, though gods know why.

Chase gives Snatch one of his rare, quick grins. "Nice to meet-" He's interrupted by Micah's sudden accusations, and he replies, "It seemed like a good idea at the time. Plus, it needed replacing. It was frayed. Another week, and chances were good it would have caught something on fire and then you'd have exploded. I just got distracted and forgot to install the new one. But a not-flying Viper is better than an exploded Viper."

Snatch narrows one eye into that uncertain peer once more as Chase admits to pulling a part and getting distracted enough to forget to replace it. That's just not cricket. And from the same feller who can't even work the gym gear? "Y'ns ought git yer Chief t' O.K. yin fer some bunk tahm, 'fin yer too tahrd t' git yern chores done," she advises.

Chase blinks at Snatch. "It's totally not like that. I calculated five minutes for extraction, repair, and re-installation. I had the repair done in four. Then this rush order came in for an exhaust switch-out on one of Gold Squadron's other Vipers, and by the time that was done, Crow came in half an hour early, wanting his Viper right then and there. If it wasn't for the unforseen variables, I'd have been in and out before anyone noticed anything."

Snatch gives a sound not unlike a grunt. "Shore als… buncher ain't gone e'er have all 'em varables a'haind. Y'ns ought shoulda—-" Snatch shakes her head. "A hain't meant to be letcherin' yin on yer job. A hain't yer boss, na ma!" she denies any implication thereof.

Pyramid ball tucked under his arm again, 'Crow' is looking a mite tetchy about the whole business of that ignition wire. But when is a pilot not looking tetchy about something? "When the CAG says go, I go," he answers, teeth clicking together and gaze steady on the technician. He nudges Chase's shoulder with the ball. "You have it ready when ah'm suited up and climbin' in next time. Aye?"

Chase adopts a neutral expression as he glances from Snatch to Crow. "Gotcha," he says, conserving words once again. "Think I'll be going now. Probably something needs doing, somewhere. Else. Away from here." He retrieves his belongings, the untouched bottle of water and book, and starts to slink off. "Nice chatting with you."

Snatch gives another grunt, lifting her chin and then jerking it downward in a gesture of recognition for Chase. "Ou-ais, Chase," she agrees tersely, a hint of approbation in her voice. A feller that keen on chores must have he good in him, after all. She looks to Crow briefly again on her way to go gather her sweatshirt and put away her jumprope.

Micah doesn't seem much bothered that he's chased the deck hand off. It's what Micah does, after all. Watching the man slink away, he switches his gaze for a moment to Mopsus, without quite meeting her eyes. "How you doin'?" It's curt, but it's an attempt at being friendly, anyway.

Chase mutters something about social lives being overrated, and flees out the door, off to vanish into the depths of the ship. Possibly never to be seen again. Perhaps.
Chase leaves for Corridor 9D [O].
Chase has left.

Snatch hms a non-committal answer as she crawls back into her sweatshirt and winds up the jumprope, replacing it in its bin. "Ah'd bes' ought git back to work, mahn own sailf. Ain't no call fer mn't bin lolligagglin' roun' in these here parts when there'ns chores t'git done." Guilt?

"Aw, frak." The pilot prowls around to Snatch's other side, making of himself an obstacle to her escape. "I haven't seen you in an age. Been wonderin' how you were, I know we never got to.." He shifts a glance around, swallows, and looks down. "Saw you peek your head in, in sickbay. Ah'm sorry I.. well, ah'm just plain sorry."

Snatch twists her lips to one side, keeping her own eyes at a downward cant. "Ain't yourn fault," Snatch replies. "'Sides which Ah'm gone stick a-roun', Ah reckon. Mahn Cap'm has more need on min here than mahn mamma do… Ah reckon," she repeats, a hint of weakness coming into her voice.

"I reckon she does, too." It's spoken softly, and the word appropriated into his vastly different dialect. "I.. don't think they'd have let us get away with it, besides. Toss me in the brig again, maybe throw away the key this time." He licks his lips slowly. "Could still take you up for a ride, though, that might be okay. If.. you ever want."

Snatch lifts a hand to the back of her neck, where the skin is actually clean, due to all her recent swimming activity. "No profit in wastin' fuel haulin' roun' some on who ain't meant to be on-board," she points out, pragmatic as always. "M'a git t' bin awright, Micah," she tells him softly.

Ah. Right. Tyllium, and the lack of it. Micah watches the snipe for a few moments, whatever he's thinking or feeling carefully veiled. And then, after grinding his teeth together a little, he goes out on a limb. "Can we still be friends? Even if ah'm a lousy.. even if I never got you back to your mamma. I hope we could still be.." His voice trails off into a murmur, like he's afraid of being overheard.

And why not be afraid of being overheard? Plots to go AWOL, een ones ultimately unrealized, are generally frowned upon. A few salty droplets find their way from the corners of Mopsus Doe's eyes, but they're smothered with the top of ehr wrist and dutifully contained before she nods her head quickly and shortly a few times. "Shore," she replies quietly, "Shore, O.K." She finally looks up again.

Micah sucks his lower lip in between his teeth, and nods firmly. "Okay," he repeats. People bustle about them, going to and from workouts or sessions in the pool. "Aye. Okay." If he was the touchy feely type, he might be brushing away those tears; the closest he can muster is a squeeze for her shoulder as he passes. There's conviction in that squeeze. "You hang in there. Ah'll be seein' you 'round, Mopsus." A smile, brief, and then he's gone.

Snatch follows suit, and gets her gone, herself.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License