PHD 291: Midnight at the Chapel
Midnight at the Chapel
Summary: After the strange appearance of the Hermes figurine under Samantha's bunk, she talks to Roubani about the dreams she's been having. He has some interesting advice.
Date: PHD 291 (Feb 3, 2010)
Related Logs: None

Chapel - Deck 8

Hexagonal in shape, the chapel is a quiet and tranquil place of worship where crew members come to give prayer and offerings of worship towards their deity of choice. Three tiers of benches ring the room in concentric lines, radiating inward to a slightly raised dais. The dais itself is lit from beneath, thick white opaque panels covering the lighting that's mirrored from above. Small offerings are left in the form of incense cones and small baubles ontop of the podium styled altar which has stylized carved figurines of each of the twelve major dieties. At each point of the hexagonal platform, there's a waist-high metal brazier in which burns a single pillar candle during ceramonies.

The sleeplessness of tonight was finally just too much. After the brief conversation with Spider her head was half swimming. So, finally, she got dressed in her sweats and just began to walk. She thought she'd just wonder the ship, maybe jog some, see if she could wear herself out. But somewhere, somehow, her feet took her here. It always comes back to the gods… no matter how far she runs. She's been here just a few moments, not kneeling yet, not a candle in her hand… but she slowly walks up the aisle, staring at the various alters, the tall, carved figurines… in awe, hate… and questioning…

Quiet chapel, the smell of incense still lingering from a recent service. The figurines have nothing to say to Samantha, of course, plaster and metal that they are. When some sound does come it's from the back of the chapel as the hatch opens. In his unzipped flightsuit, the arms pulled off and let dangle by the sides of his legs, Roubani's got a long-sleeved T-shirt on under that covers his arms - perhaps from a chill, perhaps chapel modesty, who knows.

Samantha pauses as she hears the hatch opening and another body. Her instinct suddenly, momentarily, goes into flight instead of fight… but she's caught red handed, staring at the gods. If it was someone she didn't know, she could bow her head and scurry out as fast as a little mouse. But it's not. It's Nadiv. Something in her stomach turns and she looks from him… back towards the Gods… then to him again. "…N."

Roubani pushes the hatch shut behind his back, though not all the way to the point where it clicks. He folds his arms at the sound of a voice, a reflex that doesn't ease even when he recognises who that is by the altar. "Passi?" His voice is quieter in here than usual.

Samantha nods slightly. "…Yeah. Couldn't sleep." Again. She leaves it unsaid. She frowns a moment, studying his tension. Her moment in front of the Gods forgotten, she crosses rather closer to her friend, her head tilting. "You… you okay?" She inquires gently, studying his face a bit closer.

"Fine." The loop of prayer beads around Roubani's right wrist click as he shifts his arms. He clears his throat quietly, rocking weight forward on his boot toes and coming towards the altar, stopping a few feet away from her. His chin lifts, indicating the figurines, and he asks matter of factly: "Did you come to see Hermes?"

Damnit. It's like being caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Only the gods aren't sweet and tasty. Sam looks from Roubani towards the figures again, but from where she's positioned in the room, she's definitely more in front of Hermes than any of the others… even if it used to be Artemis sitting atop of her altar. "…I… may have. Hells… I don't know what I'm doing here.." She shakes her head, beginning to move towards the back of the room.

Roubani settles down on the bench right by his hip as she talks, flightsuit rustling. "Sometimes, neither do I." He scratches his hand through the front of his hair, looking over the figurines in their silent row at the front of the room.

Samantha is about to leave. She really is. But there's just something… There. It's like she can feel them watching her back. Or maybe just Roubani behind her. Either way, she doesn't actually slip out the door… She finally comes to rest her hips on the very back row of pews, back to the gods, but she hasn't left het…"…Know what you're doing here tonight?" She asks him gently.

Roubani answers at length, as though searching for some different answer before resigning to the truth. "Not really." His eyes stay facing forward, sparing her any pointed watching. "It's more that all roads just led to Rome. Or I was hoping Fiver had some good chamalla, I don't know."

Samantha gives a low, husky bit of a laugh at the comment abotu chamalla…"…Mm.. that'd be nice, wouldn't it? That stuff was the shit… My grandma was high on it all the time… we kids used to try to sneak her stash… Oh man, there was this one party…" Sam laughs a bit deeper at the memory, shaking her head. "We were such idiots…"

"Did you." Roubani still hasn't turned around, so his expression's impossible to tell. It's a wonder his soft-spoken voice carries all the way to where she's standing. "It can be a bizarre thing, chamalla. What happened?"

Samantha laughs again, almost embarrased, "Robert puked all the stuff up… I… I had this trip… like nothing else. All I could see was stars. Leave home behind, Gemenon, Picon… the fleet, everything… Just stars and freedom. Like I could fly without a viper. It was… amazing…" She breathes out the memory, eyes shutting for a moment.

"It sounds wonderful." Roubani sounds almost wistful himself, the sound of his voice trailing off. "Sometimes it's strange how well it finds your heart. Exactly what your soul feels so deeply and connects you to it just like that."

"I'm sure it wouldn't be necessary to steal. He's a generous man." Roubani's voice has a tinge of humor for the first time, like a very small drop of dye into water. "I wouldn't have expected it of you, but I will keep it in mind."

"I… I'll have to meet him some day." Sam admits, a bit more serious with those words. Finally, she sighs, turning around and moving to the pew. She doesn't settle in next to Roubani, but one row behind him, her eyes now on the floor instead of the gods in front of her… "It… it wasn't just the figurine, N… I had a dream, too. It's driving me half mad. I can't get it… out of my head."

Roubani is quiet a moment or two, his eyes watching the back of the bench in front of him. "So he did live up to his myths," he murmurs under his breath. Then, more audibly, "What was it?"

Samantha speaks quietly, almost reverently, about this dream… Something in it she believes, no matter how much vitrol is often in her eyes when she stares upon the gods. "There was.. a figure… I couldn't see the face… or maybe it had no face. But it seemed… familiar. He, maybe, I couldn't tell… down in the bowels of the Hestia. walking thrhough… and then the Admiral was there… in the bowels, and she has a.. confrontation with this… Figure. I couldn't tell what. It didn't seem.. malicious, but heated… then I'd wake up… every time I fell back asleep, it came again… five…six times… the same dream. When I finally gave up and got up for the day… that's when Hermes was there."

Roubani is listening. Or at least, once can guess he is. She's still talking to the back of his head, the only thing moving being his shoulders as he breathes. His chin then turns, not enough to look at her but enough to show the back fourth of his profile, and the slight draw of his brows. "Familiar? Like Crydel familiar?" His voice is very quiet as he says that, but unafraid to ask the question.

Samantha shakes her head slowly, resting her arms on the back of the pew, so her forearm is about an inch from touching his shoulder, but she doesn't actually dare brush him. "I don't know. I couldn't… see. Couldn't tell who it was. It just felt… familiar. Maybe it was. Maybe I'm… jumping to conclusions. About this whole damn thing." She admits, but she doesn't seem surprised as he asks about the fact being Crydel. She was very possibly thinking it herself.

"The Admiral." Roubani murmurs the words, with reserve in his voice. Not so much doubtful as very pensive, a silence falling after that. "Interesting. Have you had it again since then?" Now his head finally turns enough that he can see her, lines creasing the skin of his neck.

Samantha's brow is furrowed, the bags under her eyes looking a bit deeper with her head tilted down, drawing long shadows across her face. "Not yet. Haven't… slept much since, though. I'm not certain I want to have it. It… wasn't pleasant, strangely. Not really a nightmare kind of person. Hell, maybe it was something I ate." She offers, but her voice clearly doesn't really believe those words now. Would she be sitting there if she did?

"The Admiral and a familiar man arguing isn't in an of itself worrisome," Roubani says quietly. Logically comes the next step, phrased as a question, "Did it feel wrong? I mean, we've all had bad dreams, we know when one just has /that/ feeling to it."

"It felt… Uncomfortable. Yeah. Seriously, N… It's been ages since I had dreams like this… and repeating… I don't know. It's probably wedding stress… or lack of coffee, or any number of things. I shouldn't be bothering you with this." But she trusts him, completely trusts him. She leaves that bit unsaid, even if it's somewhat obvious in her voice, by her words. Would she say this otherwise?

"It could be." Roubani shifts his legs, crossing them at the knee. "The gods use dreams for many things…the same as they use so many other signs. On Sagittaron they would have said that any dream that isn't obviously born from your own personal fear or desires is prophetic." Said in all seriousness, this. For some people it's a sign of crazy; to a Sagittarian it's a fact of life. "Will you do me a favor?"

Samantha tilts her head, looking up again, towards his side turned profile, as if she could almost meet his eyes. "Of course, N… Anything. You know that. You…or Kissy…or Anton. I'd do anything for you boys. Just ask." She meets his eyes as best she possibly can.

"I have some lavendar tea left. Sagittarian wives' tale, I know, but I do swear it helps one sleep." Roubani gives his neck just that much more twist. Uncomfortable, but he can finally look her in the eye. "Let me give you some, and you try and get some rest. Tomorrow we'll talk about this again. I need to think a little on it, myself."

Samantha draws in a breath to protest, but she promised she would. She gives him a small smile. "You trapped me, Nadiv…" She teases lightly, but the smile lingers. She nods slowly to him. "I'll try. We… we can talk about it…if you wish. As far as I'm concerned…it's passed. My grandma was the oracle, not me. Sleep… sleep is a fine idea. Worlds will be as they always have been when I wake tomorrow." She stands slowly..

Samantha would reach out and touch him, she almost does, but she catches herself. She's learned to curb habits with him, an silently she walks outside with him, towards the bunks. Sleeping sounds like a truly fantastic idea now, so she doesn't walk with resistance. Soon enough, she'll be tucked into bed, murmuring drowsy thank yous… and back dead asleep.

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