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(no subject)

Who: Apollo
Broadcast: Fleet wide
Action: SS Bishop
When: Now-ish?

Broadcast

[Apollo looks... a little flustered? Slightly bewildered? Like he might have accidentally exploded cooking supplies?]

I'm trying this cooking thing. I'm pretty sure it's not dangerous to eat, but does anyone want to come and be a guinea pig? These gel things are making roasts a lot fucking harder than they should be...

Action

[On the Bishop, Apollo has taken over the kitchen for now. He manages to look surprisingly domestic, bumming around in ship standard provided clothing and hair pulled up into a ponytail that bobs along to whatever music he's imagining as he 'cooks'.

Cooking occasionally involves eye lasers. Which doesn't work on the gels half as well as he hoped it would.]

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Well, nothing wrong with help.

Hopefully not poison! I wouldn't say very good tasting, but not bad.

Though Kate and I ate the cake between us.

And have you checked in on this Kate to make sure she's still among the living? You know when women talk about death by chocolate, they're not being literal.

[He can't help but tease, its in his blood.]

No, but there's no chocolate involved, either. THAT I can't make.

Then what good are you as a cook? Get out of that kitchen.

'Scuse you, you get me cocoa and I'll make you chocolate. But I have no idea how to substitute that.

I think you'd be the most popular man on the Fleet if you did.

Unfortunately, I've no idea. Now if you wanted to make apple pie without apples, I think I remember how.

Oh la la.

What's even the point of apple pie without apples? Seriously?

Well, when your nephew asks for apple pie instead of cake at his birthday and you haven't seen a living apple in a year, you get creative. It didn't taste as good as the real thing, but it wasn't half bad either.

... okay, I'm going to let you get away with that excuse this time, but there better not be anymore apple-less apple pies while I'm around, buddy.

And how are you going to stop me? I can teleport faster than you can fly.

I have my ways.

Mind you, apple-less apple pie might be punishment enough on its own.

He says who has never tried it. It's not half so bad as you think, though I'll grant you only an idiot would choose it over a genuine apple pie.

I lived on the streets, I ate some pretty questionable things until we realised that we didn't need food.

[Kurt grimaces in sympathy.]

Well, that explains your resistance to chemical pie. [Yes, that's really what they called it.] Swear to god, the last couple years of the war turned me damn near vegetarian. The meat to be found was that bad.

I didn't eat meat for a long time. I still don't eat a lot of it, it feels... rude? Eating meat when I don't need food to survive at all.

Rude, he says. That--[Is adorable in a way, and Kurt would sooner cut out his tongue than say it. He doesn't fancy being punched through the poison moon.]--Makes a certain kind of sense.

[Apollo would never punch someone through the moon for calling him adorable. He'd probably just laugh. He's secure in his manliness.]

Plus, you know, we have one full time vegetarian and another who moves back and forth on it. And Jack doesn't eat at all, he can't live on anything but pollution.

[That makes one of them.]

This Jack would eat like a king on my world. [His expression wavers, then settles.] Well, not anymore. I'm fairly certain Erik would have been a vegetarian if we had the resources to be picky.

No offence... your world sounds like a shit hole.

It was. Half the world was irradiated and anyone I talk about from home, except for Kitty who's here, is dead. So, there's your warning to never ask what became of this or that person.

... right. Never ask about what happened to people if they're from your world.

Radiation is another of those things I'm lucky enough to be immune to.

No. Just enjoy the happy stories for what they are. I try to. [He lies so well.]

Have I called you a bastard yet? [Kurt smiles as he says it.]

Only briefly. You can do it again if you'll feel better.

Oh thank you so much for the permission, you over-powered, cheeky bastard. [Pot, kettle.]

You're quite welcome.

[He gives an extravagant bow.]

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