Please Don't Say Baby
Please Don't Say Baby
Summary: Lex & Ramiro have a little chat about religion, insanity, and other silly things.
Date: 61 ACH (13 Jan 2009)
Related Logs: Red Planet Surface & A Sharp Right Turn & When Good Juju Goes Bad

Battlestar Genesis, Deck 10, Marine Enlisted Berthings, 61 ACH

Marine Enlisted berthings are setup with bunks on either side of the area. Each bunk holds two marines and lockers are between the bunks for their personal items. A table sits in the center of the room with six chairs around it for use in recreation or studying. There is also a shower and changing room off this area.

Ramiro is sitting in his bunk, all alone, as well as the berthings are quiet and empty. Reclined against a pillow, his back is against the inner wall of the large bunk as he quietly writes in a journal.

The berthing is fairly quiet this time of day, with most of the marines our oorahing somewhere else, on duty or otherwise in the chow line. None of them laze around writing poetry like those pilots, so you know it's going to be less populated at certain times. Lex comes in fresh from a shower and a patrol rotation down in the planet, steering very clear of the temple, the monkeys, and the godsdamn pretty pretty pussies.

"Hey…" Ramiro says from his bunk. One curtain is open, the one to his side of the bunk. The other is closed currently. Looking up from his writing, he spots that it's Lex and watches her quietly. "…you got a chance to talk, Nico?"

The blonde marine rubs a towel over her hair in a vigorous motion to scare the water out of it. Brute force, baby! Once in the middle of the berthing, she bends and flips her hair over her head to wrap it up in a towel to give it some quality time to dry. Don't mind the terrycloth behive. It's not a look, it's a necessity. She moves to her locker to tug on her off-duties, sliding her underclothes on under the towel with a little shimmy shake. "About?"

Ramiro watches, not too proud to do so. He swallows. "Basically…here's the rundown." A pregnant pause. "About three weeks after the Cylon attacks, Greje asked me to assist her in the Pythian rites. It's a summoning of the voice of Apollo. It made even me tremble. The voice in her mouth couldn't have been hers. It was, largely babble, but my mother had trained me on how to interpret…" He looks to her. "One of the prophecies that I translated was: Sail to the water's edge, to where your mother lies unburied. Her bones will mark the hour of the breaking storm and sun-rain. The shades will lead you."

It may seem, at times, that Pvt Nico Lex has a bit of a block on normal human emotions. She tosses the towel, tugs on her tees last, and finally just leaves all the wet things hanging in her locker to dry. Her hands pause as she moves to shut her locker. She listens, and when he pauses in speaking, she kicks it closed. Her jaw is set when she turns.

"That prophecy was before anyone knew this red planet existed. When I was on pilgrimage I had a dream about the Omphalos. It's a lost stone, shaped like a belly button. It's used in many Pythian rites." He stares at her, blindly setting his notebook down. "I sent Greje a memo regarding the dream. She requested to see me." He blinks. "Dionysus is known to come as a large cat, with the Maenads alongside him, also cats. The sites were 1000 feet from the beachhead. We followed cat tracks to the site. I heard voices tell me that they knew that we were coming, and that the unfaithful would poison the site." He flattens his lips. "When I returned from Recon, I learned that both of the Chaplains had the same dream. They'd already drawn pictures of it. That…simply not possible. They were already starting work on deciphering the dream by the time that my memo got to Captain Karthasi. That…was when I added the memo to my recon report to the brass. Because the prophecy leaves room for the breaking storm and the sun-rain…"

Lex flicks her tags out of her shirt to rest against her chest, and reaches up to tuck a strand of wet hair from her neck under the towel wrapped around her head. She listens to the litany of prophetic dream vs reality, and her hands drop to her sides. She just stands there, in the middle of the marine berthing, staring at Ramiro. "… Aside from the fact that it sounds like you inhaled a little too much sacred smoke," she moves across the berthing, closer to the bunk where Ramiro sits. "You risked your career over something as vague and wide open as a prophecy? To what? A cylon free universe where we're not at war, and everyone we know outside this fleet is rotted flesh and memory?" That was a little overly specific. She might be upset. Her expression barely betrays it. It's all in the words.

"There's no explanation for the communal dream, Nico." Ramiro replies. "I hadn't yet met Brother Karan. Greje was elsewhere. She told me nothing and was already back at the Genesis when I wrote the note." He motions for her to come sit on his bunk with him. "Dionysus is known as very gentle, but very vengeful. If he is offended, the recorded histories of his responses are legend. If you put the prophecy together alongside the completely unexplainable communal dream, you have the water's edge, shades…or panthers leading us to the ruins…the mother's bones. Add in the communal dreams, I felt there was a chance that there could be a danger. No explanations for the dreams, Nico. The prophecy fits." He swallows. "So I felt yesterday that when you were insulting the 'pussies' that you were being insulting in the face of the gods."

"Where were the gods when the bombs were falling? Now, because I don't and have never believed, you think these Gods could be offended by my words? My words. I have never been interested in them or toeing an invisible line in order to keep the invisible father figures happy." Lex leans against the bunk, hands on the edge of the bunk above Ramiro's, her body between him and an easy exit out of it. Her words are quiet. "Do you really think the sum of my worth comes down to belief? I don't need the gods for that." She straightens. "I don't care how many people dream the same thing. I still don't know where the frak these steps are leading to, and I wouldn't follow them blindly. The second you catch the scent and lock in, you fall off a frakking cliff."

Ramiro looks up to her, not backing down, but his posture remains relaxed. "In scripture, hubris has caused the downfall many times. We built the cylons. That's…the best I can offer you." He says, running a hand through his hair. He holds up a finger as if asking for a moment. He looks around her, making sure no one is there. "So that you know that I'm not crazy…this can't leave the room. It can't become rumor. I'm just asking you to understand me, baby." Yes, a term of endearment. They've come so far. "In the dreams, the omphalos was surrounded by a starfield. A constellation." He lowers his hand. "I was admitted into an underground structure last night on the planet beneath the monuments. Inside was the omphalos, exactly as it was depicted with silver veins and scripture. There were figures of Chiron and Artemis present, arrows pointed to the ceiling. The light reflected off of the silver veins produced a starfield visible above. A wind came in and literally sucked the dust out of the room." He squares his jaw. "The images are currently being analyzed, or at least they were taken up for analysis." He tilts his head a little.

Her fingers cling to the edge of the bunk above by fingertips. She leans over, head just under the top edge of Ramiro's bunk. The towel falls slightly askew, until she just reaches up to pull it off. Long, damp waves of hair spill over her shoulders. She doesn't take her eyes off of Ramiro. It takes her a long time to settle on making a verbal response, and even a few moments longer to choose one. Her jaw clenches briefly, those pale eyes remain on Ramiro's. When her reply is finally made, it's in the form of a question. All of the other information has been internalized. "What are you hoping to find?"

"I don't know…" Ramiro says. "Greje and Karan are so better at this than I am but do you see what I'm saying now?" He asks. "I translated that frakking prophecy. I had that dream. I about shit myself when we opened that door and the Omphalos was there Nico. It still is. Dionysus, the plentiful. We're restocking the planet here. Food, water, turtles…" He shrugs. "…I mean before when you were in the brush with me making your pussy cracks I was all 'back off bitch' but now…" He looks to her. "I'm not going to push my faith on you, Nico, but baby…I can't explain what happened any other way."

It can be really hard to read the private when she's just looking at people like she is now. When she's standing still… it gets even harder. Her body language is subtle, but her stance is less aggressive than it was a moment ago. Slightly. "Look. I'm not asking you to explain it. I think you're frakkin' off it half the time." It as in your rocker. "I don't read scripture, I don't go to the chapel. I don't pray. And if I see you doing shit I think is dangerous, I am going to call you on it in a hot second. So you get used to it, Dane Ramiro. While your head is in the scrolls, someone has to be watching your back. You call me unworthy again, I will knock you out."

"And that's fine. I didn't call you unworthy, but look at it from my point of view. You bitched me out infront of …I don't know. Dionysus maybe?" Ramiro shrugs, he reaches out to put a hand on her belt. "And that's fine. I didn't freak out and not do my duty as a soldier and I didn't go all crazy and do something other than by the books on the recon. I know that I have to mix the two and frak me if I'm not kicking myself in the ass for the memo. I guess it pissed the commander off. I wrote a formal apology. He's going to shit a tyllium block when he sees what we found down there though." Ramiro pauses. "Look. I am spiritual. I am devout. I love the chapel. I plan to marry there one day. I …" He shrugs. "…now? I'm not going to ask you to come but if you ever want to, know that I won't do the told you so thing, okay? I l…ike you." Good catch Dane. "We back eachother up on this and we'll be fine. I just wanted to keep you on the up and up."

Lex can't resist a smirk at the mention of a tyllium block. "Sight to see," she mutters. And. She's going to pretend he didn't just stumble over is like. "You promise to do as little as possible to seem like an airy frakkin' wingnut in front of your squad, and I will…" She tips her head slightly, then moves to take a seat next to him, "Do my best not to call you an airy frakkin' wingnut in view of any large jungle cats." She nudges him as she sits down in his bunk.

Ramiro extends a leg to rest up against her, a little bit of color forming on his ears as he nods. He pulls his notebook back behind him and looks to her. "Deal." He says, looking to her. He lets out a large-type sigh and finds her eyes. "So you wanna start taking bets on whether or not the brass think we conjured up some miracle, or that we're lying about intel?"

"Not with any of these other jarheads," Nico replies, shaking her head. "I got too much on my plate for that. Besides, I'm going with option C. The one that doesn't involve you getting reprimanded for squishy theology." She gives his calf a squeeze, hand sliding up to his knee, fingers along the back of it. "I think it's better for everyone involved if I don't try to visit the logic flow of Brass. Way above my pay grade. I'm just the explosives girl."

"Yeah…" Ramiro puts his hand on hers and smiles. "…I wrote the report because I thought, if this is all connected, what if we do piss off Dionysus." He pauses. "After what I've seen, I'm worried about someone trying to score some panther ribs."

"I'm in it for the turtle soup. You say those turtles are sacred, you're out of luck. I'm eating one." Lex can only hang with the hands off for so many things. "I thought Dionysus was the wine god. Isn't he supposed to be drunk all the time? He a mean drunk or what?"

Ramiro seems just to be happy that she's risking sitting with him. "He is…but he's…" He gets Gemenese. "…he draws boundaries and in return demands that his wishes are followed. He's generous, but if you take too much…" He lets that trail and smiles broadly at Lex. He shifts his eyes around and leans in to steal a kiss.

Lex is stopped in the middle of saying, "You take too many cookies and he face checks you with his fist?" Which is fine. Ok, kissing in the berthing. That's fine. Good even. Nico goes ahead and kisses him back. What? It's fine. Until Dionysus gets his g-string in a wrinkle and sends in Ver'Krugen or something. Wait for it.

"Pretty much…" Ramiro replies with a smile. He rests his forehead against hers for a moment and drapes one arm over her shoulder. "So…I'm sorry I gave you a scare there…I'm not insane. At least now I don't have to worry about the voices." He smiles. "What would you say if they told me that you had to tattoo my name on ya?" He's clearly teasing.

"They start giving you missives about me, you tell them to shove it where the sun don't shine, you get me, marine?" Lex elbows Ramiro for that one, the opposite arm snaking over his shoulder. She pulls in close to kiss him again. "Baby, I don't care if you're crazy. I care if everybody else knows it because you act like it."

"Oh…you don't want to be known as the caretaker of that insane boyfriend eh?" Ramiro replies, grinning and giving her another kiss. "Oh how the gentry would talk…" He muses, kissing one more time. "Nah…you are my little slice of perfect. What happens with us is on our terms."

"I didn't survive a massacre to," Lex reaches over to drag the other side of the curtain closed. "End up at the ass end of space with a loon." She slides her feet into the bunk curling up at the end where she's sitting without her legs hanging out and visible to anyone who walks in. "You're welcome to tattoo my name anywhere you like."

"Oh really?" Ramiro grins dopily, kissing her again. To hell with the berthings. "Now what do you think the officers would say if they walked into the shower stalls and saw it? Lemme ask you…" He pauses. "Do you really care at this point if people know about us?"

"I'm not going to announce it, but I think we've been together long enough for it to be okay." Lex, ever evasive of getting specific about those relationship questions. "Do you think you're at tattoo level?" Boy, he is Gemenese, isn't he? It's like girl from the wrong side of the tracks making out with an altar boy. "You won't convert me, Dane." She seems fairly certain of that.

"I'd be okay with getting a tattoo…" Ramiro replies. He grins broadly to her. "Now…at this juncture in our relationship I'm not sure if your name would be the right tattoo. I mean the next step after that is you buying me a cat and trying to pawn it off as being some sort of proxy baby that we're raising together." He grins, clearly joking.

"Proxy baby?" Lex's eyes narrow slightly. "Proxy baby." She reaches over and gives him a shove. "I will kick your ass half way to Gemenon, Ramiro. If I want something from you, you will know it. And I will get it." Proxy baby.

"Well let's get to that point…" Ramiro smiles, looking to her and shoving back. "…and no I'm not pining for a baby. Shit that'd be wayyyy too complicated." He looks to her. "I mean…if it happened I'd honor, I wouldn't be in on what we do if I wasn't willing to risk it. Don't get me wrong." He shrugs, smiling. "So what does Nico want?"

Oh frak. Now he's asking that question. Lex opened a door. "I want you to stop saying baby." She's a little more tweaked than seems necessary. She glances away. "I want what we have. I want to feel what I feel when I'm with you. To hell with everything else, to those expectations, to what everyone else does."

"Can I at least still call you baby?" Ramiro asks, being honest about it. He nods and kisses her again. "Allright…no pressure. Ain't goin nowhere." He grins. "You know…we have about twenty minutes until the next bell." He grins, giving her a sly look, reaching out to double check the draw of the curtains.

"Yes, you can." Lex returns the look, listens for a moment for the telltale sound of bootfalls from without, then briefly considers. The curtains are closed, the berthing is quiet. Judgment which might otherwise tell her no is somewhat derailed by the proximity and illusory privacy. "… Do you think you can be that quiet?" The paired shirts come off riki tik. There's a slight jingle of tags.

"Yeah…I think so." Ramiro says with a bit of curiosity as if he actually can. Truth be told, there's no rule against what they'd be doing. He grins and leans forward, locking the small clasp where the curtains connect and leans into Lex, kissing her. Outside of the bunk, there's a little bit of giggling while it can be loud, and a boot falls out of the curtained bunk and onto the floor.

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