tinker tailor winter soldier. (
redactions) wrote in
driftfleet2015-09-04 10:05 am
Entry tags:
did somebody say mingle
Who: The crew of the SS Heron and visitors.
Broadcast: nope.
Action: Aboard the SS Heron.
When: Throughout the month.
[ starters in comments, feel free to backdate/forward date anything. ]
Broadcast: nope.
Action: Aboard the SS Heron.
When: Throughout the month.
[ starters in comments, feel free to backdate/forward date anything. ]

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[She knows of Allen - he's dating her captain. She gave Winter a moment of quiet assessment, simply looking at him and observing.
Names are important things. They can also change and be outgrown. Interesting, the way he qualifies it. She debates whether or not to comment, but it seems intrusive and she has been less than completely forthcoming about that which is private to her, so she respects the distance she created. She follows the motion of his head instead, stepping back slightly so he can have an unencumbered view.]
This [a tilt of her head toward the microwave] should taste like some kinda meatloaf when it's done. I'm not a hundred percent sure I pulled it off, but it should.
This [a point of a gloved finger at the measurements in front of her] I'm hopin' ta turn into a kind of muffin thing. But you guys don't have much variety in your ingredients.
[She should have brought more stuff from her kitchen over, but that would have kind of defeated the point.]
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He looks over what she motions to, explaining the outcome, but he thinks it's one of those things that is easier tried than explained. ]
It should be fine? [ Not that he even remembers what meatloaf is supposed to taste like in the first place. He won't complain, either way. ]
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[Getting a little lost in the horror that is this food now.]
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Can't say I noticed before.. The Marsiva's was different, and so was the Caprine's..[ Again, that damn frame of reference he lacks. He does miss fish, though. ]
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[HOLD ON what you are telling her is a TRAVESTY that must be addressed.
Rogue turns to give him her full attention.]
...are ya tellin' me you didn't have a preference?
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[ He shrugs a fraction, looking back at Rogue with that worried expression. ]
It all has the same purpose.
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Because another purpose for food? It's supposed to be enjoyable. So... which one did that. [...] If any. I mean, I don't think it's very good at fulfillin' that purpose anyway...
[You can take her word on this. As someone who's been operating without touch for most of her life, what sensory experiences Rogue can have are very important to her.
And wow, that's a lot of talking and tripping over herself to try and explain she's doing.]
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They were all the same.
[ Honestly, it's a texture thing. It's awful, but he's grateful for Rogue's attempts at making it less so. ]
What one do you like better?
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I liked the fish on the planet best, but of the materials we got the Marsiva had the finest... can make a pretty decent spaghetti on the Vanquish, though.
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But she's not, so it's just a brief grin, a flash of white teeth, and the slightest nod.]
Yeah, nothin' like when they're fresh.
[BEEP BEEP BEEP.
The microwave rudely interrupts, and she turns to attend it. She doesn't really need potholders, not for cooking with a microwave. Her gloves are more than sufficient. She opens the microwave and starts to bring out the dish.]
Here, ya wanna try some of this while it's hot? I'm gonna, ta see if it's worth keepin' around. Grab a knife or a spatula?
[Yup, just. Arm yourself over there, tall dark and stare-y.]
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Winter's attention turns back to the noisy microwave, watching her pull out the dish. With a nod, he maneuvers around her to dig in a drawer to find a knife. It's a pathetic excuse for a knife by his standards, but it should do the trick in the kitchen at the very least.
He passes it silently to Rogue. She's in charge of this operation. ]
Sure.
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She's not the kind of person to fill silence with idle chatter - she doesn't really chatter - but Winter's utter focus is a little disconcerting and when silence is uncomfortable it tends to stretch and form its own presence, and that sort of presence was unwelcome in her kitchen.]
Like I said, can't vouch for this. I'm tryin' ta make stuff out of the supplies ya'll have. Is there anythin' you'd like me ta try next?
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Her filling the quiet space does help; although he doesn't mind the silence. He very rarely feels the growing need to speak when the silence lingers. Apparently it unnerves some people.
He shakes his head, glancing back at her. ]
I don't know.
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Fair enough. Who knows? This could put ya off my cookin' forever.
[Experiments in protein paste, yay. She rustles up some forks and takes a bite.]
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It's...Not bad?
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The consistency is all wrong. But the taste ain't too off. [Yuck.] We need real meat, is what we need. An' vegetables. An' -- bread!
[She misses bread.]
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Oh, okay.
[ Whatever you say you need, Rogue. ]
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Okay. Let's switch spots. You can finish makin' this one.
[She steps away from the counter, giving him room.]
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What do I need to do?
[ He has no idea how to even go about this. ]
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[She pauses to assess his expression.] Okay?
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He surveys what's been laid out, nodding his head tersely. He looks to her for further instruction, his expression open and waiting.]
Acknowledged.
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[ Okay. Okay, it was just... there was something more going on here than she really understood, and Rogue didn't know quite how to get a handle on it. ]
We're makin' muffins. Thing is, we don't have any proper flower, so I had ta beat up those potato flake things to make somethin' like it. We'll need two an' a half cups.
[ She pushes the measuring glass over to him.]
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What next?
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(no subject)