milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Sonya enters the bar without even fully realizing she's entered Milliways just yet. She's only halfway through the door though her attention's on someone else through the other side. Anyone who can understand cantonese would be able to hear her telling someone to 'shove it up their ass'-and for those that aren't able to speak the language, well, it's pretty clear that whatever Sonya's shouting-it's not very nice,.

When she does notice where she is, there's a look of visible relief on her face, though with her face blackened with camouflage paint, it's hard to tell. What is clear is that she's just been on the line of duty (or rather behind it). Her blond hair's covered with a black helmet and she's covered neck to do in dark blue (almost black) clothing and web gear. As always, she meant to stop by the armory to give back her gear, but since she's hear, she might as well put her feet up and try to get something to eat: between this and that, she hadn't really eaten anything since early morning.

The rifle is the first thing to go once she finds a table. She knows the rules to this place after all. Following the rifle is her bayonet, combat knife, side arm, three short burst grenades, two flash grenades, then finally the combat vest and helmet. At one point her blonde hair must've been tied up in a neat bun, but after several hours running around in headgear, there are fly away strands all over the place.

"Bar, can I have a comb, and maybe a washcloth or two?" Now relaxed in urban BDUs, she need to get this stuff off her face and comb her hair-then maybe she could relax.

Her weapons are replaced with a comb and washcloths and she accepts both before going to the woman's bathroom. Fifteen minutes are what it takes for her to wash the greasepaint from her face and comb out her hair, once more pinning it up in a knot at the back of her head. Only then does she allow herself to take a seat at a table by the fire place, a steak sandwich and can of soda infront of her.

Distractions are more then welcomed.

ooc: maybe slow, but wanted to get this out. Sonya's unarmed at the moment (least for any obvious weapons), but feel free to have your pup notice the weapons she laid out for bar to put into safe keeping.

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Athelstan is already there, his hair now mostly dry but the curls hopelessly tangled and standing up in all directions.

Habit compells Sonya to check the room first before allowing herself to eat. Athelstan's one of the faces she recognizes-as is the appearance of hair that's still needing to dry.

Not wanting to think on if he'd join her or not, she simply moves over to his table instead. Her expression's still worn from her dealings that day, but for his sake she does attempt a small smile. "Hey, need this?" She held out the comb-it wasn't vanity if it was just trying to be neat and not disheveled.

Inwardly she wonders if she should have her own hair cut. Let down, it reached to the middle of her back and while she always wore it up in some way, maybe it was time for a change-if she only managed the time.

Combs have basically not changed since Roman times, so he takes it with recognition and a smile. "Thank you. How are you?"

Lending combs wasn't exactly hygenic, but what the hell, it wasn't like she was going to give him lice or anything.

"Better, now that I've time to put my feet up." Actually her feet were on the ground, but that was besides the point. To say nothing of having to deal with federal or government agents getting on her case about what wasn't in her control. She's not sure how Mr. Chen responded to her insult-in chinese no less-, but then he knew of her, read her file-he shouldn't expect her to just behave when her skills were put into question like that.

She looked him up and down with a more careful eye. "You know, Bar does have spare clothes she lends to people. Easier then waiting for your robes to dry off."

He might give her lice, but he does try to be clean.

"...that might be a good thing. She can give out any clothes?"

She planned on throwing the comb out anyway: it was one of those cheap, disposable ones found in dollar stores.

"Sometimes people who arrive here or are bound here and don't have a proper change of clothing. Medical science has improved in the last twelve centuries or so, but even we don't have the cure for the common cold." Though it's something a surprise, given the money put into medical experiments, but maybe that's just her.

"I wouldn't want to be ill", Athelstan agrees fervently. "All right. Is there a place to change?"

The tone in his voice is all too easy to understand. "Men's bathroom, straight ahead and to your left." The opposite side of the women's bathroom. "Just ask Bar for a change of clothes and set the damp ones by the fire."

Meanwhile she'll get back to her food: something not from the army mess hall.

He nods and heads off to collect the clothes and put them on, returning in something exactly like what he was wearing before, but dry.

"That's better."

Sonya made a mental note to be concerned if she ever saw him in something other then monks' robes: not that she can even complain about that, her own wardrobe wasn't entirely varied either.

She swallowed a bite of her sandwich. "What made you decide to enter the monestary anyway?" She recalled that many in his time may've entered if they came from a large family or a poor one or both, but that couldn't have been the only option.

She was trying really hard not to think of the agents on the other side of the door. Just because they didn't succeed in capturing any of the Kingpins, their mission was still a sucess and the agent's whining wouldn't change any of that a bit.

"My parents were poor", he explains. "And I was one of six. They put the choice to my brothers and I that one of us must go, for the sake of the rest. The monastery offered food, shelter, and learning, so I went."

Another person might point out that he wouldn't have been able to have a family with that decision, but who better then she knew that some sacrifices were worth it-and that family didn't always have to be by blood.

"Mature decision for a little kid." She knew enough history to know that he would've been a child when he was sent away: a poor family in his era with six children meant not a lot of food and not waiting until they were teenagers. "Most would freak out at the thought of being seperated from their family."

Even herself, much as she and her mom were never close, she was still her mom and when she was a child, Sonya had no idea how mad her inner demons were. With dad away a lot, Danny and her mom were all she had.

He smiles slightly.

"I'm not sure I thought of that at the time. Once I was sent away... I did grieve. But the choice saved my life."

"I would've been more concerned if you didn't." She only knew children in refugee camps, but she knew enough that for one not to be grieving pointed to a reason for it-and never a good one.

Her expression turned to a slight frown. "What happened?" Her mind went through a number of possible scenerios: plague maybe, or raiders? Life was cheap back then (well, in parts of the world it was still cheap): Athelstan may've just been at the right place and time to escape with his life.

"A fever came to the town. It took many people... and my parents and my brothers and sister were among them."

"Fortunate indeed." Hell of a way to find out too. "Fevers are signs of infection, not an illness in of itself. Would explain your reaction to the thought of getting sick."

Monks and thoughts of heaven aside, the fear most likely stemmed from that event in his life.

"Back home, we have vaccinations against some of the more serious illnesses, small doses of a weakened or dead form of the illness like smallpox or cholera in order for the body to develope immunity for them. All servicemen and women are given them before joining the army, or if they're entering an area known for sickness." She thought back to when she was in Africa. "When I was stationed in Africa, they had to give us all a shot against typhoid fever. Normally vaccinations aren't supposed to have side effects, but..luck of a draw, I developed a low fever for two days and had to keep a few ice packs handy so I could still function."

Maybe that was what his family caught. Typhus or Typhoid would've been mass spreading in a village and able to kill off anyone fairly quickly through water. That it didn't reach the monastery may've also meant it wasn't entirely carried by fleas or airborne either.

"We don't have names such as those for illness, just fever or pox if it shows on the skin. Except leprosy, everyone knows that one... But how do they weaken or kill it, for your vaccinations?"

There was a pause. No one knew of germ theory in his era, and the last thing Sonya wanted to do was freak the guy out over nothing.

"Diseases are caused by germs-organisms too small to be seen by the human eye alone, or toxins." She wondered if Bar might let them look through a microscope. "For vaccines, the germs or toxins are collected and weakened or killed by adding in different substances. These are then injected into the body, where the body's defenses are able to recognize the germ and destroy it before it could make someone sick."

There was more too it of course, but then it had been awhile since she'd taken a class in microbiology.

"Of course, there's always the chance that the vaccine patient might still get sick, but the odds of survival are better when the body's able to defend itself. Think building a stone wall around a building-it won't prevent attack, but odds of defense are better then if there was no stone wall at all."

" - what manner of thing do you have in your time, that lets you see these tiny things?" he says wonderingly.

"Microscopes.." There's a slight smile-more a ghost of one-as she mentions it. Had she not become part of the artillery in the army, she would've become part of the science decision. "Bar, can I have a mircoscope, as well as some slides."

A small microscope and set of slides appears on the able. The design itself wasn't entirely special and reminded Sonya of the ones they used at the academy. "You have a series of concave glass lenses inside the tube here." She pointed to each part as she explained it. "Then here is where you set one of these slides, and adjust the small looking glass here to catch light. Whatever you want to look at has to be small enough to fit on a slide, and thin enough for light to pass through it."

Really, she could've just asked for a picture or book to explain it, but where was the fun in that.

She tried to figure what they could look through, then asked for a needle and lighter from Bar. "How're you around blood? Can look to see what a drop of it looks under the lense if you're not squeamish."

Her own blood of course, after the injuries she's experienced, a needle prick was nothing. On the other hand, it would suck if she found out too late if blood made him sick.

He shrugs casually before turning his fascinated gaze back to the microscope. "I can stand to look at a drop."

"Just need to be sure." Nothing worse then a moodkiller like this.

She strikes a flame from the lighter, running it over the tip of the needle for a few seconds. "Fire's a good way to destroy any germs that might be hitching a ride."

England during the dark ages wasn't entirely wrong. They knew to wash things in vinegar or purge plague bodies with fire, even if they didn't understand the reasoning.

A quick shot of the needle at the side of her left index finger proved a small drop of blood. This she carefully set on one of the slides, covering it with a piece of plastic to hold it in place. "Set the slide over here, hold it in place, and look through here while using the knobs to adjust focus."

She looked through the lenses a moment, making sure it was in focus first, then moving it over to him. To look through microscope, he'd find what looked like a bunch of red dots in a yellow tinted liquid, plus one larger white blob that was a white blood cell.

He does as he's told, examining the knobs carefully before he touches them.

"...it's a marvel."

She nodded. "When I was a teenager, I considered joining the army as a chemist, a chance to do more work with these sorts of instruments." She motioned to the microscope. "But, events happened and I was sorted into artillery instead, then onto special warfare."

When her brother was killed, she no longer wanted the safety of the lab, but the action and focus of the artillery if not the infantry.

He looks at her sideways.

"Sorted? It wasn't your choice?"