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Who: The crew of the SS Red Fish
Broadcast: n/a probably
Action: yep, it's a ship mingle
When: some time around the snow planet?

[yep. they all got business to attend to. new planet, new crewmate, new problems...]

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[Early one morning while they're planetside Hange gets up early and braves the cold to go fishing. Sokka is to thank for the idea. Some hours later she returns with stinging ears and very red cheeks but a decent stringer of fish, mostly frozen by now.

Not that that's so terrible. They're just hard enough to be easier to cut so she goes at it in the kitchen, humming to herself as she beheads and guts them, splitting the cold bodies and cleaning them. She gets a pan and steals some of Zhas' oil for frying. If he gets mad, she figures she can probably buy him off with fish.

Maybe they can have a nice fried-fish breakfast together and pretend like they're a crew of comrades who get along. If you perform a lie long enough it can become real, anyway. So the smell of fish hangs in the air, slowly replaced with the more delicious smell of frying fish, and Hange can be found humming to herself still, and frying, and pinching her still-chilled ears to get warmth back into them. Good morning Red Fish. Your captain says hello.]

Edited 2014-12-17 01:23 (UTC)

[like a stray animal, Coil just quietly comes creeping at the smell, skirting around the edges of the area. just circling until he makes up his mind.

and when he does, he just slips in through the doorway and hangs at a distance, silently observing and looking over the gory aftermath of this cooking adventure. not really seeking out her attention or gaze, or going out of his way to make his presence known. but he's there.]

[A trick with cats that Hange knows is that when a cat is shy, attention just makes it shyer. Nervous felines don't come scampering up to people who coo and stare at them, but they might edge closer to someone who is to all appearances ignoring them.

So she doesn't even react to him other than raising a hand briefly before another fish goes into the pan to sizzle.]

[it's a good tactic. he appreciates the space--it gives him room to move and exist without conflict. it's almost a lure, really. he continues his meandering way into the room until he can pause near the discarded fish bits, picking up a nearby utensil to poke at them with, while peeking over to see what she's cooking.]

[Most of them are still a little iced over. Made it nice and easy to chop. As for what she's cooking - just more frying sides of fish. Smells good though. There's a spare plate with a paper towel on it piled with finished pieces, just sitting there. Hange continues to ignore him.]

[first, he spends time picking at the fish heads, sticking the handle of the utensil under the panel of their gills, jabbing at their eyes a little bit. maybe with intention behind it, or maybe out of teenagery boredom.

and he eventually leaves them in favor of wandering up near her cooking station. just hovering right nearby--not waving for her attention or anything, but not turning and leaving either.]

[Hange is patient. She lets the time trickle out. Eventually, when he's just standing there, she speaks in a mellow tone.]

If you want fish, get a plate and use your manners.

[it's hard to tell the exact meaning behind the very quiet huff or scoff or whatever you would call the little bit of audible breath through his nose, or to what part of her offer it's in response to. and, at first he backs off like he's going to just forget the whole thing and leave.

but he does accept her offer, and takes some fish for himself. it's just not any of the cooked stuff.

he finds himself a paper towel or two, and turns to begin picking through the fish heads, looking for a good one.]

[what a weird kid. but okay, he can have that.

most of them are chopped up to at least some degree, from either the hook, or hanging on a stringer... some of them with the jaws practically torn off. but the ones that were near the top of the stringer are in decent enough shape to fit with his desires, probably.]

[with the state they're in, he actually takes a little bit of time to find a good one. size is something he looks for, as is a lack of damage.

and eyes. ...eyes are important.

once he finally selects something suitable, he extracts it from the pile and wads it up into a paper towel. the other one is used to wipe off his hands.]

[Of course. Facing away from him, she rolls her eyes discretely. This kid is an odd bird. But that's fine. He can have a fish body.]

[and it's only after he's got his gory little prize secured... that he hovers for another moment... and finally steps over to discreetly snag a piece of cooked fish too.

you know. just in case he gets hungry later.]

[Yeah yeah yeah. She continues to ignore him.]

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