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RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 2] Little Problems

James was the last to come out of the sewer. He helped himself out the best he could and did his best to stay out of eyesight from the rest of the squad. He did absolutley nothing to help them bring down the Muck Shambler, and even though his team might not have noticed, he knew it. It was embarrassing for a Neplsian Marine not to get into a fight or battle. Even if it was just an overgrown worm, his squad was bringing it down while he stood back.

Plus, he truly had no reason not to go out and help. When James thought about going out and doing something, his joints locked up and he felt as though he couldn't move. Shooting at the Shambler was one thing, actually getting face-to-face with it is something different.

As James emerged from the pipe, he took off his helmet and found an empty section of the room to sit and rest. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins was now gone and it left him feeling fatigued. James sat and put his head against a wall and closed his eyes. All he wanted right now was a cold shot of something alcoholic, and a long shower.
 
Words and voices fell into silence as Keziah did her best to stay awake. She badly wanted to take the suit off, and have a shower for an hour or three, but couldn't gather the will to even stand up. Dizziness was beginning to set in, nothing frightening, but enough to make her stomach tilt if she opened her eyes and tried to focus on something. Like the CSS Elite captain. The man was positively gorgeous. A more primal part of her regretted ever having joined the military. After all, there wasn't really much she could do besides admire him from a distance, being a lowly Third Class tech sentry.

The smell was starting to get to her. She opened her eyes and looked down at her suit, slowly growing crusty in the fresh air. It almost made her stomach do a flip, but she kept it under control and pulled off the rest of her armor pieces, mostly working with her eyes closed. When she was down to her undersuit, she packed all of the pieces together and stood, swaying gently. She took a few steps towards another part of the wall, one that lead out into the corridor, and pressed a hand to it, to guide her.

"I need a shower," she murmured. The armor would be safe, she figured. So would her rifle. Someone would pick it up. Hopefully. She slowly made her way out of the armory, headed back to the barracks.
 
Cyril worried at the inside of his cheek for a moment as Keziah got up and tottered out of the room. She seemed a lot worse for wear now that she was out in the clear air. It could just have been fatigue catching up with her. But more likely it was the concussion. Which kind of made it his fault.

Cyril sighed and chewed on his cheek a little more before standing up and unclipping his breastplate. Setting the pieces aside he pealed down the undersuit, leaving flakes of crusty sewage on the floor, and picked up his arm. Careful not to get any dirt on the contact leads, he hooked the cybernetic back on, running a quick check to make sure that everything was working.

Arm reattached, he scooped up his breastplate and knocked the two halves together a few times, clearing off some of the scum. He then scooped his left arm's armor in between the two breastplate halves and clipped his rifle to the magnetic sling on his back pack.

Tucking the armor bundle under his shoulder, he scurried over and picked up Kaz's bundle of armor. He juggled it for a moment before managing to get it under the same arm as his own armor without dropping anything from either bundle. He then picked up Kaz's rifle with his tail and transfered it to the crook of his free arm.

Saluting his sergeant and the Elite's leader slightly awkwardly with his tail, he hurried after Keziah.

He caught up with her not too far down the hall, making her way slowly toward the barracks with a hand running along the wall. He chewed on his cheek again for a moment before jogging up to her.

"How you feeling Kaz?" He asked quietly.
 
As Cyril left after Keziah, he watched briefly hoping both were fine. He stood slowly, not feeling any pain, but then again, not feeling anything and trying to adjust. He stepped to Dream and Lucius and saluted them properly.

"Sirs, heading back to the barracks to clean up before we move out to Purina Popjoy's lab." he stated quickly. He then saluted Cpt. Abeck and moved towards the doors.

The sensations in his body were weird to say the least. He couldn't feel anything. It was hard to hold onto things if he wasn't looking directly at it. As a result, he had dropped his stowed armor tucked under arm several times while walking back to the barracks. This wouldn't be terrible if every time he dropped it, he wouldn't kick it several paces down the hall. After several attempts, he resigned himself to hugging it with both arms tightly in front of him. It is in this manner, he made his way to the barracks keeping his distance from Cyril and Keziah making sure to maintain their privacy.

Ozz, always the one for inner monologue, found himself thinking about those two. For some reason, he felt a kinship to them. Keziah tried to have walls around her, but Ozz knew she enjoyed laughing. He resigned himself to seeing if he could get her to smile soon. As for Cyril, if there was ever someone to be sarcastic with AND trust to tell you the truth, it was him. Those two were just plain good company.

Realizing, he was both sappy and smelly. Ozz decided to stop with the sap until at least, he had some medical attention and a damn hot shower. But not too hot, as he wouldn't be able to know if he was burning himself until it was too late.
 
She didn't answer at first, simply because talking took more effort than she was used to. The world felt heavy, and she hated it, because it normally never did.

"I'll be fine," she said after a while, looking over at Cyril, "I'm tougher than I look." Further down the corridor, several paces behind them, was Ozz, keeping a respectful distance. It suddenly struck her that all these men--marines and soldiers, even if they were supposedly technicians--were actually nice men. A difficult enough concept to wrap her head around, but she had always understood men who were surrounded by weaponry of all kinds were assholes. Like that giant sergeant in the shuttle. Something about testosterone poisoning.

She wanted to smile at Cyril, but she was just too exhausted. So instead; "At least you're all right."
 
[OOC: I'm assuming that our showers are HERE, beside our bunks:
MoonMan said:
The room was, in all accounts, little more than a glorified sardine can. Nearly the entire span of the room was loaded with five-tier bunk-beds [...] Beyond that area stood two doors, marked with the silhouetted figures of a man and woman.
If it's not so, please correct me.]

"You've been awesome, people!" Dream was as loud as ever, tiptoeing all around on the way to the barracks' shower block. "You owned that thing! Now Real will think twice before calling us names!" And so on.

About halfway through, the group heard a familiar noise coming from behind, a sort of rhythmic clanging. Then, Flower reached them.

It was in a messy state. It wasn't even spherical anymore, battered and bent from the impact. The burned-out thrusters stood out sorrily, four tubes of blackened metal along its damaged hull. And, of course, it was covered in muck.

From time to time, however, one could see tiny robotic tentacles moving under his outer hull, the glow, flash or sparkling of various cutting and welding tools, and numerous creaking, groaning noises. Apparently the little robot made up for its comparatively low technological level with amazing self-repair capabilities.

"Yes, you've been awesome too, Flower!" She said to the Junker with a flashing smile as she sprang forward, arms extended, trying to be the first to reach the bathroom like it was some kind of race.

"Huh, so your showers are like this." She commented upon opening the door (which, incidentally, was the door with the man's silhouette on it). It was, like everything in their assigned area... spartan. Among the other things, there were three (very simple) showers per restroom, partially separated by a metal panel.

Before anyone could try to explain to her what those silhouettes actually meant, She stood under the middle shower (still fully clothed), twisted that handle-looking thing, and in response a jet of water fell on her.

Dream screamed "WAAAAAAAH! WA-WA-WATER!? WHAT IN THE MAKER'S NAME IS THIS?!!", while trying desperately to undo what she had just done, twisting the knob in both directions two or three times, panicking, before finally managing to close it.

At last, she fell on her knees, clearly in a state of shock. "...Who the heck connected the water conduits to the showers?! Oh... damnit... I wasted a lot of it..." She commented sadly, looking at her clothes. Which were now not only dirty, but wet and slimy, too.
 
Keziah said:
"At least you're all right."

"Yeah, that's uh... that's real great..." Cyril said frowning a little. Kaz was a good girl, level-headed as all get out but he suspected that there was a good sense of humor in there as well. Same with the ever inconspicuous Ozzy hanging back a few feet, though less so on the level-headed part.

The fact that the two of them had gotten banged up to various degrees while he was fine was... Well, when you got down to it, he was a little ashamed that all he could do down there was set a shoulder that he had more or less caused to be dislocated.

He knew that they were in a dangerous profession, even if it was currently security work. But Cyril hated seeing people hurt on his account. In some strange way, he would have felt better about himself if he was the one nursing a concussion right now.

"Look, Kaz... I... Don't get me wrong, I 'preciate the 'elp back there. But..." Cyril stopped and took a deep breath. It wasn't fair to Keziah unload this on her while she was still suffering the worst from her concussion. He'd talk to her about it later.

"N'ere mind. Let's get back to the barrack, eh?"
 
Abeck nodded and waved to each of them as they left before sealing his helmet back on and descending into the sewer grate. Purina smiled at the room and nodded in approval before her volumetric screened blinked out of view. Mimi, positively glowing with joy, followed Squad 35 out singing praises.

Kess, however, did none of these things. Instead, she stood in the corner and waited, patiently, with a discerning frown plastered across her pale face. This remained so until Tweak had come up from the manhole...at which point Kess stomped over to her and glared at the muck-covered Neko.

"I need to speak to you. Now."
 
Ozz hummed happily as he followed Keziah and Cyril. He laughed at himself as he replayed the days events. Running full steam at a huge bug sliding on its arse at you at a high velocity probably wasn't the most level-headed of ideas. With a shrug that no one else but himself understood, he knew all to well sometimes, stupid decisions can get things done. Despite this, he was a bit pleased he was able to be helpful. Yeah, he was big and tall, but with folks like Tweak and Keziah running super fast or jumping really high, his abundant lack of cybernetics was, in his mind, incredibly apparent.

When they got to the barracks, Ozz began to immediately disrobe...everything. In the same casual manner, he replaced his dirty clothes with a towel around his waist and another over his right shoulder. He then proceeded to consider his gear. There was no way he was going to repair dents, replace a helmet or even clean this stuff now, so he just put everything in the Pneumatic Delivery System and sent them on their way.

He walked into the shower and began to enjoy the thought of being clean again. Admittedly, the experience was less than fulfilling....not being able to feel the warmth of the water. Regardless, he lathered up quite nicely, making sure to lather his bald head. It was at this moment, he realized Dream was in the shower stalls kneeling on the floor.

Very non-chalantly, Ozz wasn't a shy person after all, he continued to rinse himself and speak, "Ma'am, not to interrupt, but I feel its my duty as a gentleman and a soldier to let you know you're in the men's showers." Finishing with a quizzical peek at Dream through the suds on his face.
 
Apparently, the fact that the showers were somehow connected to the water conduits was troubling Dream far more than Ozz's nudity (which apparently left her unfazed) or his remark about sexual discrimination (which she apparently didn't understand anyway.)

"But... water!" she mumbled, confused. "You're... It's... you're using WATER to wash yourself!! I mean! Water!"
 
Ozz nodded to Dream as he cleaned his armpits, "Yes, Ma'am. We use showers to clean ourselves. Given Montreal's ego and that this is a space station, I'm sure this water is recycled just for this use from other parts of the station. A common practice if I'm not mistaken"
 
Under ordinary conditions, she would've seen Cyril's discomfort--his apprehension?

But with her mind thick as wool, she paid more attention to staying upright, and not dizzy, than to Cyril, and offered him a softened look before they got to the barracks.

A shower would be good, but she didn't want to know what that'd feel like to the inside of her skull. So instead she strode over across the bunks, keeping one hand on the rims to keep herself steady, before she finally reached her bunk and laid down, struggling with her pillow and mattress, trying to find a comfortable position.
 
Dream still couldn't believe it. "But water... water is... nevermind the recycling, do you really HAVE that much water to begin with?"

The answer was obvious. "You... you really do." She glanced at the shower like it was some kind of lovecraftian horror, a monster that devoured life itself. "You clean yourselves with WATER."

And then, she twisted the knob.

"I feel guilty." She remarked, standing, still fully clothed, beneath the jet of warm water.
 
James eyes snapped open as he realized that his squadmates had left the room. He had apparently dozed off in his secluded corner of the empty armory as the CSS Elites went about their work. They seemed content to leave James alone as they did their job.

The short marine stood up and took a deep breath, it was probably the least pleasant breath of air he had ever taken. The entire room smelt of rot and sewage from the muck that had come off of the CSS security suits when the squad had returned topside. The stench was unbearable. It was also somewhat embarrassing, since a lot of the smell came from James' own suit.

Eager to be rid of the odor, James headed out to the barracks and quickly deposited his suit in the.....air tube thing, leaving him stripped down to his underwear. As the marine made his way to the showers, he picked up his toiletries and strode and stopped for a moment at Keziah's bunk. She looked like she was in the worst possible pain. James quickly looked from side to side to be positive that nobody was watching as he pulled some blankets over Keziah's pain wracked body. He didn't want to be caught showing compassion, it's not the marine thing to do, but he wanted to do what he could to make her feel better. The blankets might not be necessary, but it's the thought that counts.

James left Keziah's bedside and made his way to the showers. He walked by Ozz and entered the cubicle next to Dream. As he turned on the water he realized that something was amiss. He turned to Dream with a quizzical look.

"Uhh, ma'am, you do understand that you are a female in a male's bathroom? I'm not exactly sure how the 'spacers do things, but us Neps like to keep the sexes separate."
 
Ozz smirked at Dream and James' comments as he finished up.

"You'll feel guilty, but it'll be a clean guilty." he added smilingly.

He took his towels from the hook nearby and left the stalls. Drying himself off, he made his way to his bunk where, he happily put on some clean clothes. Despite a shower and clean clothes, Ozz began to feel the tinges of Dream's shot wearing off.

"Mimi? Kess? You guys around? I was wondering what I should do about some medical attention?" he asked guessing they would hear him and appear as they usually do.
 
Tweak helped Cyril up with little problem, given his size. Before she could offer, James helped himself up, leaving Tweak at the bottom of the sewage pipe.

She looked around, taking the chance to relax a little...then the 'spacer neko smiled. She had done her job, and helped out. It wasn't exactly engineering, but it had been fun, now that she was standing at the end of a job well done. Finally Tweak started making her way up the wreckage of the platform.

Four people in slime-covered boots had already passed that way, so the hand-holds were tenuous. Tweak checked her grip, though, and made it up without a problem. But she didn't see the slime on the edge of the platform until her foot was already on top of it and her weight was placed on the treacherous goo.

-splashTHUD-

Just when everyone thought she was going to be the only one without a sewer bath...

---

A minute later, Tweak, still dripping from her abrupt dunk, pulled herself up out of the hole in the storage room floor. No sooner had she done that then she was greeted by Kess' angry face.

MoonMan said:
Kess [...] stood in the corner and waited, patiently, with a discerning frown plastered across her pale face. This remained so until Tweak had come up from the manhole...at which point Kess stomped over to her and glared at the muck-covered Neko.

"I need to speak to you. Now."
Tweak stared at her for a moment through the helmet's visor, then tapped the button that retracted the visor.

"About what?" she asked, looking bewildered at the AI's irritation. "What'd I do?"
 
Cyril followed Kaz to her bunk, dropping off her armor and rifle at the foot of the bunk. She frankly looked like shit, and that had only a little to do with the flakes of dried sewage still clinging to her undersuit. What she needed was bed rest, and Cyril left her to it.

Stripping off his armor and undersuit, he sent the bundle of his armor and his rifle off to wherever in the bowels of the station they finally wound up. He would have done the same for Keziah's kit, but he didn't know the code to send it to her personal storage. Hell, he wasn't even sure that the system would have let him even if he did.

Casting a guilty glance at Kaz, he headed for the showers. He passed a cleaned and incredibly naked Ozzy, nodding to giant absently. Under normal circumstances it would be enough to make a man jealous, but at the moment Cyril was in too much of a funk to really care either way.

Even the sight of a fully clothed Dream standing under a spray of water wasn't enough to shake him out of it. He just shrugged and began to disrobe.

"S'traditional ta to that naked, ma'am." He said, tossing his trousers aside and turning on the water with his tail.
 
Not even aware of the blanket, she fidgeted uncomfortably with her pillow, and body, until she managed to find a position comfortable enough for her head, with her whole body pressed right up against the bulkhead. Somewhere in the maneouver, she managed to push the blanket off the side of the bed, leaving it in a heap on the floor. Her bodysuit kept her warm and comfortable enough to relax.

A small part of her remembered linking with Dream's mind, remembered the wonderful feeling of so much information flowing around her. That part of her missed it, that unguarded connection.
 
Serra, for all purposes, was utterly useless for the mission and the clean up. She just stood there, silently watching everyone mill about and leave, when she overheard Kess demanding to talk to Tweak alone, she made her exit and followed along behind Flower, which looked terrible what with the dents and dings and goop...

"..." She regard it silently as she watched it walk along, already effecting internal repairs. "Flower," She said, being greeted by the junkers central eye swinging about on it's rail to look at her, while it's secondary tentacle eye raised and watched where it was going. "How about I clean you up while the other's showered?" She asked with a quirked brow and small smile, "I could even try and help you fix some damage."
 
"Buh? Clothes? Separate?" She wondered. "I, uh, well..."

For a moment, it looked like she were on the verge of another of her rants... but, apparently, she was too confused to do it. "Muh, ok, if you say so."

She undressed herself while walking from bathroom to bathroom, leaving a trail of dirty water on the ground.
Apparently, her whole body was covered in those dark tattoos, not just her face, arms and legs. The right half of her body was tattoed with square, angular and geometrical patterns, making her look somewhat like a circuit board, while the left side was a jumble of swirly, spinny lines vaguely reminiscent of some kind of twisty climber plant growing on her.

Also, there was a chrome metal hemisphere about as large as a huge man's fist sticking out of her chest, between her breasts, painted with a black and yellow radiation hazard symbol.

"Um, yeah." She noted while entering the other bathroom, knocking on the metallic thing like she had forgot about it. "please don't come into this room while I'm here... without my shielding clothes, my radioactive emission is about forty millisieverts per hour, which is, I think, a bit higher than what a normal dose of anti-radiation meds can handle." She explained, dragging the wet clothes into the bathroom and closing the door.
 
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