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Entry tags:

moonbay

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Who: Moonbay and whoever
Broadcast: Everyone
Action: On the station-- wherever
When: Evening of the 11th

Okay! [Moonbay's face is the first sight the fleet sees, but luckily she's technologically advanced enough to not give them a close up of her nostrils. It's set a comfortable distance back and shows her relaxing on a chair in some restaurant on the station. She gives it a wave and a grin.]

So, brand new crowd, lots of chaos, right? A lot us aren't used to space, let alone living in it for the foreseeable future. Hopefully the freak outs are mostly over by now, and we can all move on.

[Now the camera moves to a bag on the table. When she opens it, there's a glimpse of what appears to be a lot of money in chips. Back to her, with her probably too friendly smile.]

Times are tough. Frozen accounts, sketchy employment opportunities, fines out your ears if you do something unlawful. It's not fair at all. So, I'll help you out. If you need a loan, I can hook you up. My interest rates are very fair [for now] so don't hesitate to ask!

[And, as an afterthought:] By the way, the name's Moonbay. Look me up if you get the chance. I'll be around the station for a while.

[With a wink, the broadcast ends.]

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[He'll try not to look smug.]

Sure.

[Though he hasn't actually had much time to glance down and peruse the menu thoroughly, but he glances down at it. Not that he knows what a some of it even is, though most seem to have some kind of close equivalent to something back home.]

I haven't had seafood in awhile.

[Though he's not sure how much he should trust space fish. But it's probably better than the blander alternatives. And back home, most produce only had to cross miles of hot, unforgiving desert. Space couldn't be that much worse.]

[And fail miserably.]

Yeah, I was a little curious about that one myself. Take a look-- [Moonbay half stands from her chair to peer over the top of his menu and place her index finger on one of the choices, tapping it.]-- here. I'm torn between that and one on the next page, third option from the bottom.

[The first one is, of course, seafood, and the second is some sort of combination salad and pasta dish, if the ingredients are anything to go by. She sits back down (again) and looks at him somewhat expectantly.]

[He knows that look just as well as he does the others.

But it's a concession he's actually willing to make. He might have (attempted) to mount some sort of halfhearted resistance, but he has no problem with the dish itself. And she's paying for it. That helps. A little. It stops him from wanting to be just a little contrary, if only to feel like he's asserting his hard-won masculinity properly, like it's some sort of muscle he'll lose if he doesn't use it every now and then. ]

Alright. I can get the first one. You can get the salad.

[Though it doesn't stop him from throwing a pointed look her way regardless. He knows what she's up to.]

Just try not to eat all of mine when it gets here.

Hey! I'd never do that. [Moonbay pauses, feeling the need to clarify her meaning.] Not when you have to taste test it first anyway.

[The menu's closed and handed off to a passing server in exchange for a fresh glass of water and their finalized order. He nods politely, and he's off to the kitchen. She leans back with a grin.]

So, where are you staying? Somewhere decent I hope.

Hotel on the west side side of things. Not much of a place compared to some of the places they got here, but suits me fine.

[It was decent enough as far as he was concerned. Though he had different, less refined standards. And it wasn't near as cramped as it was on the ship.]

Gets me away from all the damn lights and chintzy advertisements, anyway.

[Mostly. You couldn't entirely get away from it. He'd almost joke that the place has just as many clubs as it does people. He can take thin walls. Annoying club music, not so much.]

But probably not your idea of a hotel. Can't say it's got room service.

You never were one for some of the finer things. [The server comes by again, this time placing a glass of water out for Irvine, and Moonbay gives him a wave of thanks before turning back to her companion.]

Aw, what, not a fan of the night life? Wait, let me guess: You're getting too old for this. Is that it?

[She's chuckling to herself, clearly amused at the prospect.]

Haha.

[He's in his prime, thx. A fantastic example of a well-adjusted human male.]

Maybe I'm just tired of going in and being the life of the party.

Oh, now that's a laugh! [And laugh she does. Though to her credit, it's more of a series of chuckles, and they pass soon enough.]

Hey, your curmudgeonly habits aside, you should come crash at my hotel room. Pretty sure the couch is nicer than any bed you could afford now.

Pragmatic.

[Though she landed herself a fancy hotel, huh? Of course she did.]

Do I even want to know who's paying for it?

It's not me, and that's all that matters.

[The finality in her voice is unmistakable. He should really know better.]

So? What do you say?

[Moonbay leans forward with her elbows on the table, chin resting in her hands, grinning. Despite the teasing and the casual tone of the whole thing, she really would like it if he joined her. Old friends who not only get you, but have been through so much of the same crap are hard to come by.]

[Yep. He definitely doesn't want to know. Maybe one day he'll stop asking.

He leans back in his chair, a small smile edging across his face.]

Well, if you don't have any appearances to keep up, far be it from me to turn down a free couch.

And you know, I haven't checked, but it could very well be a pull out. [Meaning a giant bed!

The server comes out with their food and places it on the table with a nod before leaving once more. Moonbay grabs her fork and reaches for Irvine's first. Of course.]

Let's see...

Either way's fine by me.

[ Luckily, his reflexes haven't dulled much during the months of (relative) peace, and he nudges his plate away from the hungry demon with a fork. In the end, he doesn't really care that much. But he's got to at least pretend to defend a little bit of his metaphorical territory before letting her run all over it. ]

"I don't do that," huh?

Yeah, you're flexible like that even when you don't have to be. Must be strange.

[She tries to pout, she really does, but at this point, it's more of a huffed out laugh.]

Hey, I said I wouldn't eat the whole thing, not try for the first bite. [She raises her knife and fork in surrender.] But you win this round. Go right ahead.

[And she turns her attention towards her own for the moment.]

[Strange? He lifts a brow as he picks up his fork.]

Hey, what's that supposed to mean?

[He's also pretty sure taste testing implies not being first. But he'll let her get away with that one for a moment.]

Nothing important. [A bite of her pasta salad is taken so she has an excuse not to discuss that for a brief moment.

While she's chewing, she slowly moves her fork towards his plate. Either shut up and try it, or let her.]

Sure it wasn't.

[He fends her fork away with a tap from his own. Van isn't around for his plate to act like a decoy, but she might have to try a bolder strategy if she wants his plate that badly. For the moment.]

Though you're going to have to be faster than that.

[He will take a piece of the odd-looking fish filet with his fork though. He knows better than to tempt fate—or tempt her—by doing nothing at all. Though he can make the wait a little bit tedious. Who knows. Maybe she'll learn patience.]

[Her time spent chewing is suspiciously long compared to the size of the bite, and she just grins.]

[He frowns back at her as he eats the piece of meat on his fork.

He can't tell if she's more like a vulture or a shark sometimes, but he trusts that grin as much as he trusts Fiona with a salt shaker.]

[Once she swallows, Irvine gets an exaggerated eye roll and a sigh.]

Okay, fine. I won't touch your food until the plate's half empty. Is that better, Mister Grumpypants?

[He actually laughs at that. Though he does eat another satisfactory bite of his food. He'll shove his plate her way soon enough, but he doesn't mind making her wait for another few seconds.]

I haven't heard that one since Van was a kid.

[He's still a kid to Irvine in some ways. But he hasn't had to call him out for being dumb on a daily basis anymore.]</small.

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