video;

[survivalistcookbook]

Who: Eugene Woods and you!
Broadcast: Video, Fleet-wide
Action: Kitchen of the Vanquish
When: August 31st


Hey, guys.

[Eugene gives a wave to the camera, seated at his usual spot in the galley of the Vanquish. He's been making an array of flavored noodles by the looks of things, the hand-cut and variously-colored lengths of them draped out to dry on makeshift racks spread along the table.]

Serious question time - what do all of you do to not get crazy cabin fever around here? I mean, I'm not even a claustrophobic kind of guy. But this is a little too much sitting in a tin can, and I cannot be the only one wearing out the charm of their sudden knowledge of some random aspect of spacefaring life. You all have got to be cultivating some kinds of hobbies, right?

[He pans out across his work.]

Rustic-style flavored pasta to the best tips for things to do other than stare at the wall or carry out your work assignment. What's going on out there in the fleet at large?

Comments

[forgetyourusedtobe]

I'm mostly just trying to get a handle on what I'm supposed to be doing on my ship. The augment helps, but it doesn't make up for everything.

[survivalistcookbook]

Huh. What's your augment?

[forgetyourusedtobe]

It's for the lab. I know a few things when it comes to medical stuff from school back home, but not enough to know what i'm doing all the time and definitely not with this equipment.

[survivalistcookbook]

Wow, yeah, that's . . . definitely a lot more involved than life in flavored protein land, here.

Are you in touch with any of the other scientists in the fleet? I think we have a few space-future genius types scattered around, maybe you could set up a mentoring arrangement?

action;

[geonomy]

Racing!

[It's heard on the video as well as outside of it, seeing how Clay's quickly making his way down to the kitchen. And sure enough, he pops through the door just a few seconds later, and he's already heading over to grab Eugene's wrist.]

Come on, you've got to race with us. [LET'S GO LET'S GO he's pulling him along anyway but he can totally get out of it if he wants.]

action;

[survivalistcookbook]

[Oh god THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE SHIP OHSHI-]

Aaa-!

[Oh man and he's spry on top of fast and Eugene nearly topples off the stool, clattering and fumbling himself through a continued upright position with a hasty grab at his crutch, a rushed and totally instinctive few steps onto the metal foot that thumps and scrapes on the floor as he keeps it under himself-]

Clay-

[-the clumsiest tumble of steps he's had in living memory heart in his throat and when he exhales, somehow, there's a laugh in it.]

-are you crazy-?

action;

[geonomy]

Define 'crazy' here!

[Still, Clay slows down so that Eugene can actually get his balance and not fall over on his metal foot, and he gives a quiet apology for the roughness as he does so. This does not, however, lessen his excitement at all, and soon he's gone right back to pulling him along.]

There's races going on, and they've been the best things so far! All of us have gone, now you have to! I'll even fly with you!

action;

[survivalistcookbook]

All of you-?

[Once he has his bearings he manages to be towed along at a decent clip - all of that practicing pacing up and down the halls has evidently been paying off - though his expression remains incredulous.]

Is that "everyone's been taking the shuttles on joyrides" everyone? Or "Clay has stuffed everyone else into a shuttle to hurtle through the stars with him" everyone.

[video;]

[tothefly]

What, staying ahead of the game isn't entertaining enough for you? Don't answer that. Atroma might decide to liven things up with a round of space dysentery.

[Clearly her hobby is optimism, right?]

[video;]

[survivalistcookbook]

Oh geez, are you trying to give them ideas?

[He really wishes that response was more of a joke.]

[video;]

[tothefly]

That's me. I'm a helper.

[A quirk of her lips passes for a smile, even if it's sardonic.]

I'm more impressed by your hobby. That almost looks like real food.

[video;]

[survivalistcookbook]

Fake it till you make it, right? [He smirks, nodding at the fruits of his labor.] We still haven't figured out a great fix for the complete and total lack of fresh produce. But at least this brings us up to the level of your average college kid.

[pain_train]

Okay, so Eugene there's like five million things you can do, right? You can draw, or paint, or learn how to put people in joint locks, or Natasha could teach you to shoot, or you could have a fishy, or you could learn combat shuttle flight, or play checkers, or make up a deck of cards and steal everyone's money with fake rules, or have sex, or design beautiful unicorn murdershoes, or if you don't wanna have sex with other people you could masturbate a lot cause that's cool, or you could make little stuffed animals that look like your friends from home, or you could help Vision with his seaweed farm, or learn how to cut a bitch, or write stories, or make up dumb names for everyone and refuse to tell them what their dumb names are.

Can I have some pasta now?

[survivalistcookbook]

[No, the screen isn't frozen. He's just staring. For that long.

After several seconds, and very slowly, he cracks the beginning of a smile.]

I, uh. I think you listed more things than I made batches.

[pain_train]

[Absolutely brilliant grin.]

Guess you'll be cooking for the Windrose for a while! Lucky, lucky!

[survivalistcookbook]

[He responds too-slowly, like you'd speak to an over-excited grade-schooler, though the bemusement in his expression gentles it a bit.]

And is the rest of the rest of the Windrose this happy about noodles for every meal?

[stefanged]

[Don't tempt him like that, bro - even if he doesn't need the pasta, it sure looks yummy.]

I usually experiment in the lab. Nothing big, though I've been tempted to analyze our protein paste.

[survivalistcookbook]

. . . ooh, huh, that does sound risky. What if it's made of something really awful?

[stefanged]

Exactly. I'm not sure I wanna poke the hornet's nest, so to speak. I'll save that one for last.

Beyond that, I uh... I play cards with the guys sometimes? Or work out plans for the interfaith center I'm gonna run. [He shrugs, kind of helplessly.] I'd take up cooking, but there's only so long I can stare at a protein cube.

[survivalistcookbook]

Oh, hey! Both of those sound pretty interesting.

[Eugene does have at least have enough tact to not just invite himself to someone's poker night, so it's on to the other stuff.]

Are you looking at spaces on the new ship for the center? And as for cooking, I could always show you a few things in the kitchen over here. I think the cook programming mostly gives you a weird insight into how the protein acts under various conditions. Hand me a block of this stuff back home, I wouldn't have had a clue what to do with it.

video

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Oh, you should have been here when I turned some scrap into sword-fighting robot arms!

[a melodious little laugh; he's got a bright smile for the screen.]

That was a fun time... How good is your imagination, stranger?

video

[survivalistcookbook]

Oh, man, that does sound good.

[The half-smile he gives back is typically restrained, but there's a flicker of intrigue in it. Who could hear a phrase like "sword-fighting robot arms" and not be intrigued?]

And my imagination? It's . . . okay, I guess? How so?

[ action ]

[touchofrogue]

[Enter Rogue, leaning casually on the doorframe of the kitchen, her arms crossed.]

Any luck?

[ action ]

[survivalistcookbook]

[Eugene glances up, faintly sheepish.]

I . . . uh. Possibly belong to Wrath for about a month. Do you think I can just Meals on Wheels stuff over to the Windrose in one of the shuttles?

[Heavens forbid he be made to inhabit another kitchen. This one has all the stuff just the way he's used to.]

[ action ]

[touchofrogue]

[A very brief chuckle.]

As long as ya grab some of their rations first an' bring it over ta cook with, don't see why not.

[Eyebrow arch of interest.] She say anythin' that catch your attention, specifically?