Tourist Mingle

[got_it_memorized]

Who: The crew of the Tourist! or anybody who might visit.
Broadcast: Probably not
Action: Anywhere onboard
When: The week of 29Mar-04April

[All things considered, the Tourist is a fairly quiet ship; it seems most of its crew keep to themselves. What happens when they do happen to bump into one another, though? Let's find out! A chance encounter at the coffee machine, an awkward meeting in the shower, or maybe just killing some time in quarters, let's show the Fleet how the Tourist keeps it real.

[Your captain has purchased some fruit at the market on Mor and has generously deigned to share, so there's a selection of apples and oranges and a box of strawberries in the kitchen for the taking! Don't be greedy, though!]

Comments

[justamobster]

[ Ladon has yet to really socialize with his new crew. All things considered he's still adjusting to this new trapped-in-space set-up. There are certainly some advantages to no longer being on Sacrosanct, but then there are the unique little drawbacks to the fleet that he's currently discovering.

One of them is the food. Unless he wants to 1.) get sick or 2.) burp smoke for days, he needs to eat burnt food. And protein cubes? Not the easiest things to burn. But he's trying, by nuking what used to be a chicken flavored glob over and over.

Thankfully this microwave doesn't have a weight setting to fiddle with.

The smell coming from the kitchen isn't terribly pleasant. But at least he's not going anywhere near the fresh fruit. Oranges and dragon furnaces don't mix. ]

[got_it_memorized]

[Oof, what is that smell? Axel thought he was a lousy cook, but it seems somebody's stolen his crown, because that has got to be the worst smell coming from the kitchen yet. A hand over his nose and mouth, he pokes his head into the kitchen and stares a moment. Oh, it's that new guy. Well, the newest guy, from the shuffle before last. He hasn't really spoken to him yet, so... maybe this is a good opportunity.

[He rubs his nose and makes a face, then ambles over toward him and leans on the counter.]

I think it's dead.

[justamobster]

[ He makes a disgruntled noise at that, leaning over to get a good look at the black lump in the microwave. ] Pretty sure it ain't never been alive.

[ The gunk doesn't burn well, and microwaves aren't the best way of preparing his food. The result is something black but rubbery, but it'll have to do for now. He pulls the plate out, then hunts about for silverware. Yes, he has every intention of chowing down on that abomination he just made. ]

Work with what I got, though, yeah?

[got_it_memorized]

Here's hoping.

[If it ever had been alive, that would have been disconcerting. He watches the man look for silverware, then makes a face.]

You're actually gonna eat it like that? [Axel waves a hand, frowning concernedly.] You do realize you don't actually even have to cook it, right? Let alone cook it... that much. [Sure, heating it up tended to make it a little more palatable, but that was just overkill.]

[justamobster]

Got a special stomach. [ He finds a fork and then goes about poking at the formerly-protein sludge. It wiggles. ] What works for most folks just makes me sick. Sorry 'bout the smell, ain't never figured out how t'get 'round that.

[ And yep. He's eating it. He makes a face but somehow manages to get it down, though he punctuates the swallow with an 'ugh.' ]

[got_it_memorized]

[Axel just grimaces as he takes a bite of the overnuked wiggly block of protein. Eugh, that's gotta be awful.]

Special stomach, huh? Hope it's made'a cast iron or something. [He pulls up one of the chairs at the table and turns it around to sit backwards.] So... what, you can only eat food that's... radioactive? [He's half-kidding, but he can't quite figure why someone would need to microwave something to that extent.]

[justamobster]

[ He powers through another bit of the protein gook. It's less the taste that bothers him-- he's used to that. It's more the texture. He's going to need to get some real food on the next planet, pronto. ] Somethin' like that.

[ It's made of fire, mostly, which can get really uncomfortable when it acts up. There's heart burn, and then there's literal fire crawling up your digestive tract. ] Burnt. S'like usin' charcoal, only I don't gotta cough it back up. Runs in the family. But these microwave thingamajigs? Shit at burnin' food.

[wolfuncaged]

[Wow. That is a pretty damn terrible smell. It's enough for Fenris to come out of his man cave and wander into the kitchen. Just in case the ship suddenly got a pack of deepstalkers or something.

It's that bad a smell. ]

...You will likely set the ship on fire if you continue.

[justamobster]

Nah. Ain't makin' popcorn or nothin'. [ Which makes absolutely no sense to anyone who wasn't on the station for that little exploding microwave debacle, but Ladon clings to what humor he can muster when trapped on a damn spaceship.

Plus it's a small test. He's seen someone who looks familiar to the fella addressing him back on Sacrosanct. He's unsure if he's the first and only refugee here. He glances over his shoulder for a reaction before going back to fussing with his over-nuked food. ]

If I'm rememberin' right, these doohickeys don't go sparkin' unless you stick a fork in 'em. Or mess with the weight settin'.

[wolfuncaged]

[It makes no sense at all, but Fenris isn't about to question him. Could be he's just weird. The Tourist is good at hooking weirdos. ]

Or unless you leave something in there to the point of it becoming a charred mess.

[justamobster]

M'used to burnin' things. Got it under control. [ In fact, he takes the fully over-cooked and smoking hunk of goo out of the microwave and waves off the smoke with one hand. ] Guess that's 'nough. Shit don't work so well, but I ain't gonna go ruinin' the real food here, yeah?

[ He indicates the fruit out on the counter with the tip of his head. It seemed to be for community use, but he's well-aware fruit doesn't stand up well to his carbonized cooking style. ]

[wolfuncaged]

[That looks...pretty disgusting. ]

No. It would be preferable if you didn't melt the fruit into an inedible mess.

[innercactus]

[ Anyone who sleeps in the crew quarters is welcome to discover that the resident plant man glows in the dark.

And if that's not weird enough, he can be found in the kitchen, where he's carefully de-seeding a strawberry into a bowl with some sort of needle. Or spine.

There's a note left in neat-flowery handwriting next to another bowl - "seedz plaese". He has trouble spelling, okay. ]

[killedwithlove]

[Someone else would have thought to call ahead and arrange coming over, but Cole just doesn't think of these things.

He just takes a shuttle over, letting himself not think about how he knows what to do and just doing it. He's learned a lot of things like that, or rather, done a lot of things like that.

And then he just starts to wander, letting his awareness of Solas–ages old ache and sadness to drown an ocean–guide him towards the elf.]

[dirth]

[ And it doesn't take long for Solas to come out, following the faint prickle of something familiar. He walks forward easily, leaving his rooms and turning down the halls.

Cole is here. Cole is here and the mingled relief and anxiety he feels is almost too much.

As soon as he sees him, he reaches out, hand lifting to touch his shoulder gently, the softest of greetings and in lieu of an embrace. ]

Welcome, Cole.

[killedwithlove]

[Cole actually runs, skidding to a halt in time to grab Solas' hand and cling to it with his own, two large, callused hands wrapped on Solas' one. Then he tips his face down, pushing his brow to the back of Solas' wrist.]

Rushing, relief, relaxation, the songs don't sing but they whisper and hum once more.

Hello, Solas.

[dirth]

[ He's a little shocked at the contact, at least for a moment, before his hand flexes, turning to touch the side of Cole's face, running his fingers over it. He had missed him in the bare few weeks they had been apart, this wonderful, compassionate spirit that makes him feel...

It makes him feel. ]

I suppose I don't have to tell you that I missed you?

[killedwithlove]

[Cole lets him turn his hand but refuses to actually let go, eyes closed and lips moving silently.]

No. You don't have to. But it's nice when things are put outside, sometimes. Hollow, fluttering, fast and flashing and then-

Then-

Can I hug you?

[He looks up finally, not trying to move, just face tilting up slightly and big, pale eyes looking at Solas.]

It's been so quiet. I can't hear them over the screens.

[dirth]

Then I missed you, very much, Cole.

[ His fingers brush over pale cheek and he hesitates, his thumb slow, gentle and tender... Before he nods. ]

You may. Please do, Cole.

[ And his hand drops a little, his arms opening, ready for the boy to step into his embrace. ]

I'm here.

[wolfuncaged]

[As usual, Fenris spends his time avoiding his cremates. He's not a people person and he isn't exactly fond of the people aboard the ship anyway. He can usually be found in his armory amongst weapons he can't use, bar the greatsword he managed to nab from Mor.

He still needs to eat, though, and he's pleasantly surprised to find apples sitting there, waiting. He glances around, carefully, as if this were some dastardly apple-based trap, before carefully picking one up. He'll go lean on the table to eat it, not striking a conversation with anyone who happens to be in there at the time. ]

The inevitable explosion

[killedwithlove]

[Cole is staying with Solas for now. But Solas sleeps sometimes, Cole doesn't and he can feel something shattered and sharp and shredding the edges of his awareness.

So he goes to have a look.

He doesn't have his hat on, it's in Solas's room, so it's a bare, white blond head that pokes around the corner to look at Fenris, leaning on the kitchen bench.

He hurts. Not in himself, though he probably does, but he's so bright and pulled apart and put back together than Cole, even Cole, can't even begin to find the threads, let alone sort them out.

Then he makes the fateful mistake.]

Lyrium, sings, screams, screeches, scratches across skin...

[wolfuncaged]

[Fenris hears Cole before he sees him. He turns sharply, dropping the apple, eyes focusing on the creature. Suddenly, he feels exceptionally foolish for leaving his sword in the armory, for not being prepared for this. It probably works out best for Cole that he doesn't have it.

Instead, he pushes away from the table, whole body tensing. He looks somewhere between terrified and angry. A wild animal caught in a snare. The lyrium flickers to life, and his eyes narrow. Dorian had told him the demon would keep its distance. This does not qualify as distance. ]

Venhedis! Get away from me, demon!

[killedwithlove]

[The lyrium blinds him, but he can feel the surge of anger and fear despite that, nothing distinct, just overwhelming emotion directed at him that hurts, hurts deep in his gut and chest and makes him stagger away, back around the corner.

His father had hated and feared and raised a hand and then mother was dead. It wasn't him. That was Cole.

Cole kept him in this world. He was Cole, not something more fragile, that could be reshaped by so much directed emotion.

He doesn't come back out into sight.]

I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

[wolfuncaged]

[He can't believe the damn thing got onto the ship. Why did it come to the ship?! ]

Did Dorian not tell you to leave me alone? Why are you here?

[killedwithlove]

... I didn't know you were here! I came to see Solas. I promise. I didn't know you were here.

[The voice is rushed, apologetic like slaves are to angry masters. Or abused children to parents. Or the mages of Kirkwall to the templars.]