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Tweak says, "HUG THE PORCUPINE!"

Philo Zoticus, Jr. (dr_philo) wrote in kobols_legacies,
@ 2008-05-07 21:59:00

Entry tags:

Evening on SL
Philo's eyes were on the ceiling and on his journal, alternately.

The journal was a silly habit. One he'd adopted in med school, mainly to make himself seem more attractive to Mary-Claire, who now in all likelihood lay dead at the bottom of a lake or some such. It didn't matter. His quips and insights hadn't faded with her, but they had faded. He thought often that they had faded with Colette. It was an easy answer, and one to which he clung like driftwood in a storm. It simplified things. Made it all cleaner.

Still, there was a time to reflect, and a time to act. This was neither, but Philo felt it would be in his best interest to leave. Get out. He lived on the most varied ship in the fleet (or so the rumor was. He hadn't been on another) and it was only right he should see it. He stood, tucked the journal into his desk drawer, and stepped into the corridor.

All corridors led to the biodomes, and he could be certain that if he walked along them that was where he would come to. He had no intention of coming out at the biodome though. He veered off, looking for solace in a bottle and in conversation. He made his way through beautifully appointed corridors (Bethany's doing, no doubt) and past lovingly arranged bits of flora (Bethany's doing, no doubt). When Philo finally made his way into his favorite haunt--the lights low, the ambrosia plentiful--he was glad to see his friend manning the bar.

"Hello, Bethany," he said with a smile, not as forced as it could have been, and sidled up to take a seat. "You're looking lovely as always. Where's your staff? You are entirely too beautiful to have to deal with these ruffians."

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Re: Evening on SL

dr_philo
2008-05-08 01:24 am UTC (link)

Seeing the expression in Philo's face surprised Bethany a little, the intensity mystifying her a little and sparking her concern for him. For all the years they'd known each other she'd never heard him speak much of his life before the exodus, his door to the past seeming to be tightly closed. In her years since that time she had met with, talked to, consoled and comforted countless numbers of individuals, and couples, offering an ear, and shoulder, or pair of arms to those who sought it. In some instances it had been a bed, where it had struck her deeply and the solace needed was for the individual to be reminded that indeed loving people still existed, even if loved ones no longer did.

"Indeed, darling, it is," she replied, her hand reaching over and gently patting his forearm. "And it's a heavy burden we all carry, not lessened by the simple lack of a military badge of responsibility."

"Yes," he responded, the muscles in his jaw tight. "We all do carry a burden. I only seek to see those in charge answer to someone else. Don't you, Bethany?" His eyebrow was an angular arch over liquid brown eyes.

She nodded slowly, trying to read the message in his words and eyes as she studied his face. "We all answer to someone, Philo, whether or not they're corporeal," she replied quietly. "Who do you answer to, darling?" she ventured?

"I answer to myself," he answered bitterly, then softened. "And to the memory of my beautiful daughter. I wish you could have known her." For a moment, his eyes misted up, then he shrugged off the emotion. Whether he believed in such fallacies as the Gods notwithstanding, he met her eyes with a cool nonchalance. "Who is going to stand for people like us? It's not right."

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Re: Evening on SL

bar_lady
2008-05-08 01:31 am UTC (link)

She didn't miss the look he had when he spoke of his daughter, albeit briefly. The quick shift away again, back to his regular nonchalance convinced her to let it lie for the moment. "Well being a democratic society we have the peoples' forum, our parliament, and its elected representatives," she stated simply, knowing it wasn't quite as simple as all that. The establishment of the government had given rise to a bit of unrest among some segments of the fleet, the concept one that many were unfamiliar with, and like most people when faced with change there was a lot of resistance. The use of the Marines had been a strongly debated issue when unrest had threatened to swamp some ships to the point of civil disturbances that threatened people's safety.

She tilted her head to the side and studied him for a long moment. "Have you ever considered running for one of the positions of representatve of Shangri-La?"

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	Re: Evening on SL dr_philo 2008-05-08 05:48 pm UTC (link)
	He laughed, and looked down at the robust styling of the bar. "Me? You've got to be kidding. There's plenty out there would do this fleet a better service than I." He looked up to meet her eye. "Though I appreciate your vote of confidence." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	Re: Evening on SL bar_lady 2008-05-08 06:26 pm UTC (link)
	"Don't be so sure about that," she told him, leaning one elbow elegantly on the bar and resting her chin on her softly curled fingers. "People need someone who is passionate about their plight, and not in it for what attention it will get them. And that, Philo, is something I can't ever see you doing!" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Evening on SL

dr_philo
2008-05-08 09:29 pm UTC (link)

"Getting attention, you mean?" He returned her look with a smile of his own, perhaps a bit more pensive than before. "Please, don't be so effusive in your flattery, Miss Jereldsen. It will go to my head, and there'll be no living with me."

A pause, and briefly he considered asking her for another drink. Something in him, however, said no, and he abandoned the idea. "No," he replied. "I can't see myself as a politician. But there is a shifting in the tides. A change is coming, mark my words..." He trailed off, and gave a halfhearted laugh. "Listen to me, spouting poetical nonsense. I suppose that I am seized by the sentimental."

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Re: Evening on SL

bar_lady
2008-05-08 09:40 pm UTC (link)

"And what, dear Philo, is so wrong with being sentimental, or even waxing poetic?" she asked, taking a mental note of his brush-off for the moment. "If not for someone waxing poetical we would be devoid of poetry, would we not? And it would be a sad existance indeed if we were't to permit ourselves the luxury of sentiment." She shivered slightly, her voice lowering a little. "That would make us like machines, wouldn't it? And that isn't a good thing..."

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Re: Evening on SL

dr_philo
2008-05-08 09:54 pm UTC (link)

"You're right, as I'm sure you know." His smile was open, and he leaned onto his elbows on the bar. "Sometimes I wish we were like machines. Sometimes," his voice dropped in volume considerably.

"Do you think they can shut it off?" he asked quietly. "The Cylons--do you think they feel pain? Sorrow?"

Not long ago he'd never have asked such a question. Even speculating about Cylons was something that garnered unwanted attention, but as a man who studied the brain he was afforded eccentricities when it came to his topic of specialization.

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