| Food |
| Summary: | Food. The Mess. Talk of. |
| Date: | 24 Feb 2041 |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
      |
| Galley | Deck 9 - Battlestar Cerberus | Condition Level: 3 - All Clear |
Behind the two hangar decks, the Cerberus' Galley is the largest room on the ship. Nearly half the size of a football field, the eating area is made up of long lines of stainless steel tables that can be folded up and placed against the wall for larger events. Individual seats are the standard military issue, boring and grey with lowest-bidder padding. The line for food stretches across one of the shorter sides of the room while the kitchen behind works nearly twenty-four hours a day to produce either full meals or overnight snacks and coffee for the late shifts.
Nostos makes his way into the galley looking hungry like the wolf as he makes his way to the front counter with his tray in his hand. Food is quickly placed on his tray and then the pilot spins looking for a new place to sit. He notices Hellicon and he starts walking toward the Legend of the Beast, "Sir."
Hellicon sees Angelus Nostos walking up and smiles, sitting back and waving him over. "Hey, Nostos, long time no see," he says as he takes a drink of his water before taking another bite of the Corned Beef Sandwich. "How's everything in the wing tonight?"
Alessandra comes in, a large duffle of something draped over her right shoulder, its weight more than enough to send her a bit off kilter as she moves from Point A to B. Seeing a familiar face, she starts the walk over towards where Nostos is, the table he's sharing with Hellicon being her table-target.
The sharp report of heels approaching the hatch may well be heard as it's opened by a crewman exiting. A short moment later, the hatch opens wider to admit another person. The platinum blonde who steps through is immediately identifiable as a civilian. It's all in the clothes. Santiago's sharp heels take her over to the queue, where she stands, for a moment, behind a small group of military. Her arms cross as she waits, though it isn't long before she's at the fore of the line, and surveying the spread. "Something… without meat product, byproduct, or imitation… meat in it." She makes her way down the chow line, eyes skimming over various selections, looking for something that fits her requirements.
Angelus looks over at Hellicon as he puts his tray down, "I believe the kids are alright. I haven't seen anything going on that was to crazy tonight. However, you know pilots because we are the most dangerous when we are quiet." Angelus takes a moment to look down at his food and he closes his eyes for a moment in prayer and after he is done he turns to look up at the woman in the heels and he turns to look away from the heels to spot Alessandra and he offers a wave, "Eltee, can you confirm that the pilots are fine and we totally aren't planning anyhing evil at all?"
Hellicon chuckles and nods. "I do indeed know that, although I haven't flown in a good year so things might have changed in that regard," he says just before he takes another bite of the sandwich. "And plotting evilness is part of the job description, especially when you're breaking in the FNG's in the squadron." He smiles as he looks to the unknown Lieutenant walking towards them; the officer that Angelus Nostos was addressing. He was about to speak when he hears the click-clicking of heels coming in. Thinking it's one of the ship's higher ups, he sits up a bit, but sees instead of one of the superiors, a woman who could only be described as looking like a Rock Star coming in, making a beeline to the serving lines…
Staring blankly, it takes Allie a moment to put words together in her head but that time spent in formulating a response doesn't keep it from sounding flat. "I am just doing laundry," she says lamely while setting the duffle to the side, making sure it's kept out of the way of anyone who might want to skirt by the aisle their table has been set up in. "I lost a bet to Lasher and he is making me do his wash." The clicking is caught and she too looks in the direction, the owner of those shoes watched as she goes about getting food. "Wonder who the frak that is."
The blonde in the heels settles on a fruit cup, two, actually, and a cup of hot water to go with a pre-packaged tea of some kind. Santiago skips the tray, and shoves a spoon in her mouth — please Gods be clean — then proceeds to turn, and head for a table. Incomiiiing! "Room for one more?" Whoever speaks up first is likely to get sat next to.
Hellicon laughs and nods. "Lieutenant, dare I ask what the bet was, or is that for another time," he says as he hears the blond speak up… Not all the time they have a visitor like that come aboard, so he whistles and waves her over. "We got room here, ma'am," he says, just before sipping his water.
And it's Hellicon with the prize. Santiago glances over to the man, and her gaze sweeps him briefly. There is no rank indication on his clothing, not that it might matter to a civilian. She approaches, stacked fruit cups in one hand, spoon recently relocated there as well, a cup of tea in the other, and a tea bag pinched between two fingers. She leans over to set her delicious dinner bounty on the table, then clicks over closer to slide into a seat, her heels going silent once she's perched on the edge of a chair. That just means she can concentrate on speaking. "I usually take action against men who whistle at me, but with this many itchy trigger fingers around, I think I'll just tuck in and make use of this spoon." Aaand, just to get the pleasantries out of the way, she notes, "Santiago Blue, Aquaria. I'm not a frakkin' reporter."
"Well, we did that game of Bunny's last night and I bet him that he couldn't take me out but if he could he'd win. Winner's choice as to what they won." When the lady approaches she gives her a jovial smile and a nod but she continues on, concluding the story. "Captain Sitka and he both took me out…can you frakking believe it? I get that he doesn't like doing his laundry but he could have had anything!" Shaking her head, Allie can't help but to laugh. "Yeah. Anyhow," her attention darts to Santiago and she smiles. "One of our civilian guest, huh? Nice to meet you. Alessandra Sophronia. Pilot."
Angelus looks over at the blonde in the clothing and he stops because he hasn't seen someone this gussied up since he left Caprica. Angelus takes a few moments to study the civilian as if trying to place her since he isn't a politician but he does come from old Caprican money and when he decides that he doesn't know who the blonde is he turns to look at Hellicon, "Bet, sir?" Angelus isn't sure what to make of that one but then when Hellicon waves the blonde over there is a moment where the pilot tilts his head since now he is going to have to speak with the civilian. "Well, Ms. Blue, if you aren't a reporter then who are you? I'm Angelus Nostos, Caprica, Jig, Halo." He rattles off the information quickly since he is used to introducing himself in this way. Angelus asks and he doesn't whistle at all because a potty mouth does not a lady make, though, sometimes it is amusing. Nostos looks back at Alessandra, "You serious? You had some sort of bet going and I wasn't in on it?"
Hellicon chuckles and gives Alessandra a wry look. "I don't know of any guy that likes doing laundry. Gods know I usually just let the dry cleaners take care of my uniforms, so that leaves the possibility of them getting ruined out of the picture." He takes a sip of his water and nods. "Halo, this is one of those bets that I probably wouldn't have gotten into, so take that as you will," he says with a smile as he looks to the civilian and smiles warmly at her. "Hi, Santiago Blue, who isn't a frakking reporter… Chris Hellicon," he says as he extends his hand out to shake.
Naevi passses through the hatch into the Galley-proper, a book clasped in one hand and a standard issue towel draped over one shoulder. She makes straight for the food, placing her book down on a table as she gets into line and ponders what to eat.
Santiago glances up, and looks to Alessandra for a moment. Her dark green eyes study the other woman's face, much like she's committing it to memory, along with the name (because she is!). "Alessandra." She smiles in greeting, and then her eyes tick over to Nostos. "Angelus." It seems the well dressed blonde has taken it upon herself to commit the first names of the crew to memory. "Chris." She takes hold of one of the fruit cups, then glances over as a hand is offered to her. She studies Hellicon's hand for a moment. There's a distinct pause. Yes, she's checking out his fingernails before she touches him. Apparently, there's no grease in evidence, because she reaches over, with that perfectly luxurious manicure (whoever decided to put her observing Deck must have been having a day), and takes the offered hand. "Pleasure to meet you all." She tips her head. "I've been accused of being a reporter several times this week. I thought I'd get it out of the way early. I'm with the Aquarian Delegation." She doesn't go into the specifics, other than, "Evaluating Deck." In those shoes. The humanity. "I was in Observation watching the maneuvers last night. There were two aggressors, yes? Which pilots were those?" She walked in on the tail end of the battle, so isn't quite sure of all the details.
Angelus looks over at Naevi as she enters the room and he throws a fellow pilot a wave and he makes sure that there is space for her to sit at the table when she makes her way through the line. He takes note of the towel and his mind begins to look at the possibilities of what such a thing as a towel might mean. Never forget your towel. angelus turns to look at Hellicon, "If you wouldn't get into that bet then chances are neither would I. Always know when to fold and give up." Angelus turns and looks at Santiago, "I'm afraid it wasn't me. I just got off of a temporary medical leave, though, tell me about what it is like working with the Deck?" Nostos is cordial, mannered, and curious - in summation a typical Caprican.
Alessandra shrugs slightly to Halo. "Sorry. It was spur of the moment. Don't really think we would have had the bet go beyond us even if it wasn't a last minute thing." Not having food of her own to occupy herself keeps her able to talk, there being no delay to chew and swallow. "The aggressors were Captain Sitka and Lieutenant Laskaris, Miss Blue." She's intent on the conversation and doesn't notice anyone outside of those she's sitting with, currently.
Hellicon looks to Santiago, his eyes widening a bit as she mentions her affiliation with the Delegation. "You're with the Aquarian Delegation? I… Ma'am, I must apologize, but you caught me off guard there," he says, quite embarassed and hoping she forgives him sooner or later. He then looks to Alessandra and asks about the ops from the night before. "I didn't get to observe any of that exercise, so I take it it went well," he asks as he waves Naevi over. "Come join us, always room for more."
Santiago glances over to Nostos as he queries re: Deck. "They're a little rowdy, hard working. Greasy. Crewman White is helpful, and full of all sorts of technical information. I'm half convinced he thinks he can talk me into a good review by the sheer number of serial numbers he works into casual conversation." Her attention shifts to Alessandra as her question is answered. "Sitka and Laskaris." She thinks on that for a moment, then nods slightly. "I've met the Petrels SL. I haven't had the pleasure of the other yet. And you, Alessandra, were in the battle as well?" There's something in her tone that may suggest meeting Sitka wasn't exactly fun times. She glances over to Nostos, "Or you?" No comms in the Observation Lounge makes it difficult to figure out who was who in the scuffle. "So they do have dry cleaning services abaard," she finally comments to Hellicon. "Almost everything I own is dry clean only. That could have been a problem, shortly." She may notice crew moving around beyond the table, but as she hasn't met them yet, her attention is not diverted from the conversation. She talks for a moment over the shock Hellicon seems to have gotten from her revelation. Finally, though it's exceedingly bad form, she asks, "Why does my affiliation surprise you, Chris?"
Politicians don't seem to startle Angelus that much since so many of them spent time with his parents growing up, but, when his question is answered by Santiago there is a moment of reflection. After that moment passes Angelus speaks to Santiago, "Good to hear that the Deck is working very hard and I hope they meet your qualifications, Ms. Blue." The pilot is still utterly formal as he remembers his manners from back on Caprica, "We do have dry cleaning services since our blues often need to be pressed though you may need to talk to some of your higher ups to get to use it over military priority." A beat, "Not that someone like yourself wouldn't be able to do so. I'm sure dry cleaning will be made available to you." Angelus turns and looks over at Hellicon and he smiles slightly as Chris freaks out a bit. Angelus turns to look at Alessandra, "Well, no worries. It is probably a good thing that I missed out. Though if it keeps you entertained it is a good thing."
Naevi returns with food and scoops her book up from the empty table, tossing it across to Nostos before she sits down alongside him and looks at the rest of the assembled group, "Hi there. Amelia Naevi."
"Yeah, I was," Allie answers rather readily, "Although I didn't get to stay in too long. The Captain and Lasher both saw fit to take me out first, in about two minutes or so. Captain Sitka said it should be taken as a compliment." That gets a hearty roll of her eyes. "What the frak ever," she says just before breaking out into laughter, Lucky not too horribly put out anymore. When Naevi introduces herself she waves, leaning over a bit to see her from around Nostos' body. "Nice to meet you. Am Alessandra." No mention of rank, the mood too casual to ruin with that kind of crap.
"Well… Ms. Blue, you… Well… You look like a Rock Star," Chris says a bit sheepishly. For the first time in a long time, Chris Hellicon, usually the most confident and poised officer anyone could ever hope to meet, is speechless. He smiles and nods his head, trying to shake the shock off as he nods to Naevi and smiles. "Hi there. Chris Hellicon," he says as he extends his hand out to her in greeting. Still lots of new people to meet aboard the ship.
Santiago smiles a bit as Nostos discusses the dry cleaning. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, Angelus. I wouldn't dream of holding up the supply of blues and dress greys, but a woman has to have clothes." Apparently nothing she owns is washer friendly. She nods to Amelia as she arrives at the table, and replies, "Santiago Blue." She slides a look askance to Hellicon at the intonation of 'rock star'. She glances down then, and plucks at the little peel off lid of her fruit cup. It seems to be a little challenging. That could be the manicure. "Is it the hair?" She doesn't even mention the nose ring or the heels. That might be a joke. The tone's a problem, because it gives away nothing. "I assure you, I neither sing, nor do I play any instruments particularly well." She gives up on the fruit cup, for just the moment, and reaches over to peel and drop the tea baggie into the water before it completely cools off.
Angelus looks over at Naevi, "Hey, how are you doing and are you coming from working out or going to work out after this?" The Caprican asks as he looks back to Alessandra and he says half joking and half serious, "That is what Captains do, they make the rest of us feel inadequate." Nostos then looks over at Chris as he is clearly head over heels and this amuses Angelus greatly to see one of his heros suddenly confronted with something well beyond him. Angeelus tilts his head as Santiago speaks, "I wouldn't worry about holding up the blues and dress greys, after the commisioning ceremony we should be a lot slower which means dry cleaning should be very easy to get."
"Hiya," Naevi says to Hellicon, glancing down at the offered hand before shaking it and then turning back to Nostos, "On my way back from one. You'd be surprised how quiet it is there at chow time."
Hellicon looks to Nostos and gives him a mock hurt look. "Excuse me, Angelus? Am I /that/ scarey? Just because I got shredded into hamburger aboard the Pegasus doesn't make me scarey, does it," he asks, a smile forming on his face as he looks to Santiago and smiles. "Well, it was that, the nose piercing, the heels, the wardrobe…" He smiles and chuckles a bit. "And I'm certain you'll be given access to the Dry Cleaning Facilities. Truth be told, I need to drop off my blues sooner or later. I haven't worn the damn things in so long, I can't even remember when I got them cleaned last. I think I've worn my utilities more than anything as of late."
Why the Hell is a brand new Battlestar's hatch able to squeak the way it does? This is a mystery that will always remain unsolved to all but those who live amongst the elite ranks of he Colonial Fleet's shipbuilding contractors. Anyway, yeah, it squeaks as it swings open to admit another hungry crewmember. The fatigue-clad form of Lt. Oberlin steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him and turning the latch before strolling over towards the chow line and grabbing a tray, generally quiet as he moves through the line until he asks one of the cooks on mess duty, "CeeCee. Am I gonna regret this?" He points to some imitation Aquarian crab that is likely made out of fish. "Is this fish synthetic?" She just rolls her eyes and continues on, indicating he might not like the answer. He grabs a spoonful anyway, though.
Angelus looks over at Hellicon, "No, you are a big damn hero, sir. I'd say you are classic and like a fine wine or a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt, always in style." Angelus says and it is clear that he is teasing Hellicon and praising him at the same time. "The fact that you haven't worn your blues in some time scares me a bit since I am constantly wearing mine when I am not on flight." Angelus looks over at Santiago, "Careful Ms. Blue, I believe you might have a sudden fan. Chris here is a hero in the fleet to pilots since he survived a nasty crash and the way he survived has become a text book example of how to survive such crashes. He has kept a lot of pilots alive." Angelus Nostos, pilot, wingman, and a worldsclass Bro. Angelus turns to look over at Naevi, "You know maybe I should work out like that. I'd like a quiet room to hit the heavy bag in. Well, so long as the heavy doesn't fall on me again. That hurt a bit." Angelus turns to look at the new person makes his way in and this is another person who Angelus doesn't know enters. The Caprican's eyes follow Oberlin trying to place him.
Alessandra clears her throat and then stands up, grabbing for the bag she had pushed under somewhere close by before she sat. "I guess I better go and do Lasher's laundry before the stench eats its way through the canvas the duffle bag is made out of. It was nice meeting everyone. Halo, see you later." Stepping away, she gives everyone a wave before heading to where she can find the laundry facility, the friendly smile becoming animpish grin just as she steps foot out of the mess.
Santiago glances from Nostos to Hellicon, and then gives her tea a test sip. No sugar added. She leaves the bag in, allowing it to steep stronger and darker. "You military folk are meant to be kept on your toes somehow," she finally comments, in reply, most likely, to some of Chris' words. Her eyes flick to Angelus again as he sings the praises. She raises a hand to acknowledge the departing Alessandra. "Goodnight and good luck." She clears her throat again, and turns to look at Hellicon, whom she is seated next to. "Did you know you were that damned awesome? I had no idea. Here, I thought you were just some Captain sitting around in the Mess eating…" She points to his tray. "Whatever that is."
Oberlin's nose twitches several times as he surveys the food he's lumping onto his tray before making it towards the end. To no-one in paricular, his chest heaves a little in a sigh. "I think I'm going to regret this." He intones before turning on his heel to find a nearby, safe table to settle into. As luck would have it, it's the one bordering the little group. He settles down onto the seat wordlessly and just stares at the meal he's about to tear into. "Why? We have automated landing systems, but we still have to eat this shit."
His cheeks turn slightly red in embarassment as he looks to Nostos and chuckles. "I didn't do anything except survive, nothing more. If people learn from it, then maybe I did do something good," he says as he looks to Santiago and nods. "I don't try to advertise. Instead, I'm just sitting here eating my Corned Beef on Rye and talking to friends." he then looks back to Nostos and raises his eyebrows. "And just to let you know, I don't wear my blues that often because working in the flight pods like I do and isn't what I call a very clean job. The utilities work for me… Besides, how often do I get to show off these," he says as he flexes his well-sculpted arms, cmiling and chuckling as he does… The breezy banter was good, and he liked the fact that everyone was enjoying themselves, although looking at Oberlin, he sees him eyeing the vaguely food-like substance sitting before him. "Dude… You didn't get the Ramen, did you? If you did, I'll see to it the heads are cleared for your emergency launch…"
"I just use the pommel horse," Naevi says with a shrug, taking a sip of her water, "Hardly anyone ever goes near it."
"That's what I went with a fruit cup." As she's turned to regard Hellicon, Santiago catches Oberlin out of the corner of her eye, and happens to hear the comment. She rightly assumes he's talking about the food, which she just passed up herself. "It's ok, I'm not that impressed. I've crashed and survived too. Granted, that was a car. Three times. They don't go as fast as vipers, but when you wrap one around a tree, it can be a little creepy." She dutifully ignores the ramen line of… imagery.
Angelus looks at Santiago for a moment, "Did I mention how humble Chris is?" Nostos says as he looks at Santiago, "He is awesome and he just plays it off acting like he is one of the regular folks like the rest of us." As for the tray Angelus looks at his meal, "I liken this to turchicduchameneakoy. It could be turkey, chicken, duck, ham, steak, or soy depending on what I choose to imagine the food is for the day." When Chris flexes, "How often do you work out?" Angelus asks since the man with the big shoulders and the arms to match is curious. "Do you spar, I'm looking for a partner to spar with." Nostos then looks over at Naevi, "Are you a gymnast?" Then when Oberlin comes in for ramen an eyebrow is raised, "What turchicduchameneakoy and mixed vegetables isn't good enough for you?"
"Nah. It's not an issue of flavor. It's not that it's not good for me. I just can't get over the ambiguity of this stuff. I don't even know what this is. 'Aquarian Crab Salad.' Probably full of nuclear residue. Not that I didn't get pumped full of unctious chemicals in basic, but I think this abomination started life as ramen before it got run through some kind of horrific process." Oberlin notes as he hefts his fork and points down at a pile of…noodle-like things. "I lived off rural Sag food. I think I can eat anything. If just shut up and refuse to complain about it, though, it's like I'm letting them win." He smiles ever-so-thinly. "I don't like letting them win." With that, he starts digging into his food with a sour expression.
You will no longer hear messages on channel <Public>.
"Was," Naevi tells Nostos, waving her hand dismissively. She turns her attention back to the group at large, tilting her head to listen before she glances down at her own tray of food. Pretty simplistic given the variety of exotic tastes coming to the fore.
Hellicon looks to Santiago and nods. "Crashing in a Viper and crashing in a car are both scarey, no matter how you look at it. Mine came with a price though," he says, not elaborating on it as he looks to Oberlin and chuckles. "If you want to try some real food, grab one of the corned beef on ryes on the midrats buffet over there. Despite its pedigree, they're pretty damned good," he says as he finishes off the first and begins on the second sandwich. Looking to Nostos, he answers. "I still follow the regular pilot's PT routine, but I usually hit the gym 6 days a week. I'm still hoping I can regain my flight status sooner or later, but that won't happen until I can get the Meyrchords either treated or cured. Until then though, I might as well stay in shape."
Santiago glances at Oberlin's tray, and frowns slightly at the intonation of 'Aquarian crab salad'. She stares at it for a moment, as if the very thought of it is making her slightly ill. She glances away before she has to see Oberlin take a bite. Not fishy substitutes. Fruit cup, fruit cup, fruit cup. "Almost everything comes with a price."
"Well, I suppose that is the trick isn't it. Never ask questions and eat what you have too? Think about out parents and grandparents, after the war they had to eat all sorts of things and they never once complained. You'd eat all sorts of gross stuff if you were hungry enough." Angelus turns to look over at Hellicon, "See, there you go being all humble again." Angelus looks back at Santiago, "Don't pay any attention, the food here is fine. It is a bit institutional for the tastes of many since we don't exactly have access to a lot of the flavors from back home. Fast food is out and so we take what we are given." Angelus looks at Naevi, "Wait, you were a gymnast? Did you compete?"
Naevi laughs, "If you tell me you watch gymnastics I'm not gonna believe you, Nostos." She toys with her food a bit more, polishing off a mouthful before she speaks again, "I did, yeah. Nothing major. I got to the Colonial finals on Libran once."
Poor Santiago. "I heard a story about Aquarian Crabs once. I'm not going to share." Oberlin comments, between bites, making a face. "Allright, so this isn't so bad as all that." Of course, by NOT sharing, he precisely ends up telegraphing exactly the foulness that this implies. After a few gulps, he glances over towards Hellicon and says, succintly, "Thanks for the tip. Unfortunately, I'm something of a fatalist. And my destiny's already been foretold in this tray." He continues to work on his food.
Hellicon smiles and merely eats his sandwich as he continues. "Well, for what it's worth, I hope that crab salad doesn't hit you like it did me a few weeks ago. Truth be told, I think that might be the same batch," he says, idly munching his sandwich. "Nostos, there's nothing special about what I did. I just got lucky, that's all… Although, I ran into Admiral Cain right before we left the shipyards. She told me that Cole taylor wants me come back aboard to talk to some of the new kids in his wing. I told her that if Admiral Abbot clears it, I'll make a trip over."
"Fine?" Santiago glances over to Angelus. "No one should ever live on something that's just fine." She thumbs over her shoulder toward Oberlin's crabby food. "Fish gives me hives." Pride of the Aquarian people, she is not. The woman finally gets the lid off of the fruit cup, and digs in. Preservatives be damned.
"Watch gymnastics? Oh, no, but this one time I was with a group that needed to get into…" Angelus goes quiet for a moment, "Nevermind, all I am saying is knowing a gymnast can be a very useful thing." Angelus goes slightly quiet for a moment as he processes that little nugget of information that bubbled up on its own. As Oberlin muses on being a fatalist with his food Angelus says, "No reason to be a fatalist that is why we have hotsauce, salt, sugar, and honey." Angelus then turns to look Hellicon, "Seriously, Taylor wants you to talk to the new kids? He booted me over here probably to make room for them." Angelus shrugs, "Well, nothing I can do about it now. As for Rear Admiral Cain, she…" Angellus glances over at Santiago, "runs a tight ship." Spotting that Santiago only has a fruit cup to eat Angellus frowns, "This is no way for a VIP to eat. Excuse me for a moment." He stands and walks over to the kitchen for a moment and he stands there for about thirty seconds before a piece of grilled chicken, a slice of garlic bread, a fresh side salad with vinegarette dressing, and a pudding cup appears on a tray which Angelus brings back over to Santiago and he sets the tray in front of the representative, "Hopefully, this is more to your liking?" Angelus says as he sits down as if that interaction was as simple as good be.
"They don't know how to treat a gymnast aboard a battlestar is all I'll say," Naevi murmurs, a little grumpy, "I mean a pommel horse? For a male gymnast, maybe. I'm just using it as a balance beam for now … "
"You're probably better for it." Oberlin talks after barely swallowing, mumbling a little towards Santiago. "I think this is chum. I don't know. As I said, in the western-North hemisphere of Saggitaron they eat some things that make this look five star. It's all acclimation." His eyes narrow at other various bits of the conversation. 'Pegasus.' 'Cain.' 'VIP.' He doesn't comment, however. Not at first. Finally, something in him clicks, with a little twitch of his mouth and he chimes in. "Getting 'booted' onto this ship is a career boost. Any of the Mercury-class ships will serve. Want to know where dinosaurs go to die? Her name is the Ilium."
Santiago glances down at the tray of food that has been presented. The rather extensive tray of food. She pauses, spoon almost to her mouth, and then her eyes flick up to Nostos. "That's very thoughtful of you, Angelus. Friends with the cook?" She glances down at the fare offered up, and hms. "This is definitely better, thank you." She removes the bag from her tea, once the liquid has taken on a deep color. She nudges the garlic bread to one side of the tray, much closer to Hellicon. She slices up the chicken, then promptly dumps it over the salad. She lifts the pudding cup briefly, to check the flavor. "I haven't had pudding since I was twelve. This really is just like camp. With more guns."
Angelus looks over at Naevi first, "I know someone in Engineering, I'll see what I can do for you." Then as Oberlin mentions getting booted Angelus says, "You sound just like Taylor, the CAG from the Pegasus. He told me the same thing you did. He said it would be good for my career. Time will tell I guess and what is the Ilium and why do the dinosaurs go there to die?" Angelus looks back at Santiago, "Please, I know a guy. Just enjoy your meal." Truth be told Angeluls knows a lot of people and he has the connections to get just about anything he wants - secretly shady, possibly, but the man gets results. "And camp with guns might not be too far off the mark."
Hellicon looks to the tray of food, then to Nostos, then back to the food and to the slice of fresh garlic bread… And then swipes the bread. "Nostos, you never brought me anything like that when I was holed up in the Pegasus infirmary," he says as he takes a bite of the bread. "Wow… That /is/ good." He then looks to Santiago and smiles before replying to Oberlin. "Thankfully, I haven't had to pull any duty on the shitbox, but I knew a few that did," he says as he continues eating the fresh slice of garlic bread he appropriated from Santiago's tray.
"That'd be great," Naevi says to Nostos appreciatively, holding out her hand flat before her, "All I really need are a set of bars and a balance beam … simple, really."
There's no griping from the platinum blonde as the bread is swiped. She was, after all, trying to unload the carbs on someone else. "It's good to know a guy." Santiago picks up a fork, and stabs a bite of salad, chicken along for the ride. "I'm not going to ask to see your scars, Chris," the Aquarian comments, with an amused little smirk. She glances over to Oberlin, turning slightly in her chair so she can easily regard everyone as they speak. "Pudding cup? It might help the chum go down."
"Friends with the cook. Guess she /hate/ me." Oberlin muses, in tones both sarcastic and maybe a little self-deprecating. Truth be told, it's more of an obvious affectation than anything else, as he continues to gobble his tray's contents. Disgusting or no, he does a good job of devouring it before finally leaning back in his chair and muffling a burp. Stay classy, Obe. Stay classy. "I'd hope I didn't sound like him. He sounds like a tool. The Ilium was one of the token Battlestars parked in the Saggitaron shipping lanes, waiting for grumpy dissidents and pirates with itchy trigger fingers, and my last assignment. She's a rugged old beast. I was actually fond of her, but her systems were kind of stripped down. Cretan Electronic Warfare Suite. That thing's so old it had a 'Made in Kobol' sticker on the back of it." Munch, munch. He keeps downing his food. "Yeah, that was my last posting. Commander Rin was a pudgy Gemenese gasbag who I swear was blind as a bat and the biggest topic of conversation he had with his crew was trying to marry off his daughter. One of the heads would flood every other week. And don't quote me on this, but I think the Deck Chief's parents were also siblings. Mind you, I have no proof, just a working theory." Digging into his noodles, he holds up a wad of them on his fork and squints at their contents. "Thanks but no thanks." He whips his head around towards Santiago and holds up his hand. "I think somewhere in the Sacred Scrolls it even says this. Pudding isn't /natural./" He flashes a thin, thin smile.
Angelus high fives Naevi, "I'll see what I can do, Ameila." There is a grin on his face as he looks back at Hellicon, "Are you kidding me, Taylor would have had my balls if I pulled a stunt like that back on the Beast. You have to be kidding me. Medical alone was poised like hawks controlling everything that went into and out of medical. Besides, I was a new nugget when you were in medical. I hadn't really heard of you yet. Though if you end up in medical again I'll take care of you." Angelus looks over at Santiago and he smiles softly as he tucks into his turchicduchameneakoy. Though as Oberlin has a vowel movement Angelus looks up and when the man is done speaking Angelus looks at Naevi and Hellicon and he says quietly, "Okay, so maybe Taylor isn't a total tool for sending me here." He looks back at Oberlin and he has to ask, "And what was the damage with Commander Rin's daughter?"
Hellicon looks to Oberlin and replies… "Didn't Rins daughter get knocked up by his Cag? I heard something along those lines. Oh, and the Deck Chief… Was his name Anastos? If it was, then you're probably right," he says as he looks back to Santiago and speaks quietly. "Well, if you look, my tat shows some of them off," he says as he looks to his right shoulder, the black ink of the tattoo showing a few small mars from scar tissue."
Naevi bursts out laughing, perhaps inappropriately, at the mention of a CAG knocking up a CO's daughter. She's still laughing as she shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair, "What a frakking soap opera."
"After what you just ate, you may want to pray to the Gods for guidance." Santiago replies, seeming amused at the muffled belch from the man. "Or forgiveness." She takes a moment in silence with her own food, digging through a few careful bites before she sips her tea. "Why would the CAG still be alive if he did such a thing?" She glances over at Hellicon's shoulder, briefly, then smirks a little and takes another bite of her newly acquired dinner. No comment is made about the tattoo or the scar tissue.
"Damage? You're asking the wrong guy. I mean, I could make up some story on the spot that she was about seven feet tall, had a shaggy beard, and was named 'Peter' and used to favor floral pink dresses but that's entirely over-the-top." Oberlin starts as he puts the fork down, looking haplessly at his mostly-eaten tray and appearing somewhat defeated. "Nah, I'm sure she's a perfectly fine person." He starts, shooting Hellicon a blank look and a slight shrug as he offers an aside, "I wouldn't know. I tune that kind of thing out. Rin was a freak, though. Good enough at his job, but he used to pace around in his long johns in his quarters, smoking a pipe. He used to make inappropriate comments about his days patronizing Tauron strippers, and…" He trails off, truly at a loss for words. "I guess the most offensive bit though was the fact that he was practically selling his own daughter off like she was /cattle/. I don't know, but that's just plain sad. We're a /spacefaring/ society and we still have people who live like this? Might as well be living in trees throwing feces and coconuts at each other." This lengthy tirade is broken off as he address Santiago's statement. "The Gods aren't through with my torment. I know I'll endure many more meals like this to come. Which reminds me. I think I'm done with this thing." He starts pulling his tray away. "If you'll excuse me." Another tight-lipped smile ensues, as he starts to stand.
Angelus looks at Naevi as she starts to laugh and he raises an eyebrow, "Stranger things have happened and Battlestars all tend to be a soap opera in their own way. Some are worse than others in terms of that. The Pegasus was more of a edge of your seat Thriller, well, that or Mommy Dearest." Angelus turns his attention over to Santiago and then over to Hellicon as he looks at the scar tissue. As Oberlin speaks again the JiG listens and after a moment of listening and he says, "Ah, the food isn't that bad here. I mean at least it isn't oatmeal three times a day or something like that." He doesn't comment on the rest of the story there since he never served on that ship and he doesn't know anyone like Rin. Nostos has been used to Cain and her crew which is a beast of a different nature entirely.
Hellicon laughs out at the throwing feces and coconuts bit… "Reminds me of some of the cromagnons we had in my ROTC unit back at UV Virgon City. I swear, some of those morons couldn't even /spell/ R-O-T-C. Sad part is that I'm pretty sure a few of them will end up becoming Battlestar Commanders. I pity whomever has to serve under those clods," he says as he sits back and thinks for a bit. "Ehh, Nostos is right. Most ships have their own drama stories. Pegasus has them, the Ilium has them, and even this ship has a few already. The best thing to do? Just do your job and pray to the Gods that none of the drama hits you in the ass along the way."
"I'll eat whatever I can get," Naevi says with a shrug of her shoulders, taking a mouthful of rice and looking from face to face, "Better bad food than no food."
Santiago finishes up the salad in silence. She eats quickly, but neatly, leaving the pudding cup on the tray after it's refused. She pokes it to the edge nearest Hellicon. Apparently the guy who works out the most gets fed more. "I thank the Gods that I haven't had to make that choice," she glances over to Naevi, clearly referring to the bad food over no food comment. "Thank you all for the company during the meal. It was lovely to meet you all." She finishes off the very last of her tea, but doesn't immediately move to depart, though her words suggest that is imminent.
Oberlin laughs harshly in a parting shot to Hellicon. "You went to UVC? Ha. My condolences. Spray-on tans, man. Spray-on tans." He hefts the tray as he starts taking a few steps away and notes, "Oh, don't worry, I get that. That's why I'm here now and not sitting in a frakking basement in some Fleet Office on Picon or worse, some Saggitaron field Hell Hole full of 'destabilizing influences.' I've thankfully done my time. This place is posh. Even with Imitation Imitation crabs." He makes a face and saunters off, dumping out his tray and plowing his way to the exit.
Angelus asks Chris, "Drama or poo? Or is that the same thing?" The pilot is asking either for his own amusement or to see what Hellicon will say. He looks back over at Naevi, "I'll second that. Bad food is better than no food." It would seem the Caprican is less picky about his food than others are, which is suprising considering the amount of money he comes from. "Are you leaving us, Ms. Blue?" Angelus asks curiously since he was just starting to enjoy himself.
Hellicon chuckles. "Same thing, Halo, same thing," he says as he gets up, picking up the pudding cup along the way and opening it. "Well, I better get going. I need to get showered up and get some sleep before work. "Ms. Blue, it was a pleasure," he says, offering his hand once more to her."
"I am, indeed. I have a date with an empty Head. A fresh towel. Silk sheets, and a trio of down feather pillows calling my name." Santiago arranges the leftovers on the tray and rises. She's careful about where she puts her feet. One does not walk carelessly in heels that high. "Thank you for your hospitality." She smiles then, and balances the tray, then reaches over to take Hellicon's offered hand. "Chris. Goodnight." Ever polite this evening. "Perhaps we'll all run into each other again, soon, and we can discuss these matters further." You'd think they were having some sort of diplomatic debate. "Goodnight," she says again, looking to the others at the table. There's a smile, then the blonde sets off to stow the tray, and squirrel away the pudding cup, and extra fruit.