driftfleet | [Closed] I mean, breakfast cobbler?

Who: Team Fam Mingle
Broadcast: None
Action: Iskaulit Community Gardens
When: Day after Glenn gets shuffled

[ It's been a rough few weeks. Glenn's unexpected arrival after such a brutal reminder of what waits for all of them after death has Carol feeling out of sorts, to say the least. She wants to celebrate them being all together, and alive, no matter how unlikely it may be. And once a southern housewife, always a southern housewife. The way she decides to celebrate is with food.

She does her best with what she has. The various gels and pastes and other processed foods along with whatever she can scavenge from the gardens and the stores of what they picked up on the last few planets. With all that, she's managed to put together a decent enough picnic. Not as good as what she wants, but nothing ever will be. The menu is: cold fried chicken, pasta salad, fruit salad, peach pie, and sweet tea.

She's set up a folding table and chairs with a sheet for a tablecloth. Brought place settings from the Heron. It's the closest she can get to actually being outside while still in the relative safety of the fleet.

Time to reconnect and recover. She sends a text invitation the morning of. ]

Come to the Iskaulit Community Gardens at lunchtime. Bring your appetite.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, there's plenty.

[ She sets to making him a plate, heaping it with everything until it's hard to carry, and hands it off before making one for herself with more reasonable portions.

(Don't worry, she's not going hungry.) ]

It's not pot roast, but it'll have to do.

Sounds like a challenge.

[ There's no chance he's gonna back down from that!

He takes the plate, watches her fix her own. There's plenty, she's not wrong, and he knows it's good without having to try it because... well, it always is. ]

This is nice, [ he murmurs, a sideways thank you. ]

[ She smiles softly at the challenge comment. ]

Working up an appetite lately? What do they have you doing over there?

[ She understands the necessity of mixing everybody up. It's for tv. Or whatever they use instead of tv. And if all of her friends were on one ship she'd never have a reason to talk to anybody else.

Still. It's hard to shake the worry when they're separated. And it's real nice when they're together. ]

Yeah? I thought it might be. Give us a chance to breathe a little and make sure we're all alright. I was thinking of doing it again sometime, but inviting some new friends, too.

[ She glances at him sidelong, not quite sure what he'd make of that. ]

[ Hey, they don't need a reason to be hungry, they're all still probably malnourished. He doesn't bother trying to defend himself, though, he's already got a mouthful of fried chicken.

Which he chews thoughtfully as she floats that idea. ]

Could be nice, [ he says finally, slowly, not entirely sure how on board he is. He knows-- it's a good idea. They oughta be more social, probably, but there's something so comforting about it being just them. Like family. ]

[ She's been filling out since she got here. No longer feeling like skin stretched over bones too heavy to hold up for long. The food isn't great, by and large. But it exists and is plentiful.

She waits for a long time for the rest of that sentence. ]

Could be nice, but?

[ Sure, the food's not great... But they've gotten by eating squirrels and dogs and worms more than once, it's hard to be picky. Something like this, a proper meal, that's a treat.

But for all his uncertainty about hurtling through outer space, he's glad at least that they're all well-fed and reasonably healthy. This place could be a lot worse.

He lifts a shoulder in a lazy shrug. ]

Don't get to see each other much. Just us.

Yeah. I mean. It's not a bad thing, I don't think. The situation is better, here. The way we did things back home aren't going to be so helpful. So it's better to be around other people who think differently if we're going to be here a while. Still. Nice to be together and just make sure things are really as good as they seem, every once in a while.

[ She looks around. Everybody looks so happy and well-fed. She wishes more of them were there. ]

Feels like I should trade my place or something. Let somebody else get a break sometime.

[ He hums agreement at that. It's like a twist on survivor's guilt-- which they already know all too well-- the awareness that they're here, so much safer, nestled in the midst of all this plenty.

Funny thing is, he thinks she deserves a break more than he does. Needs one, maybe, more than anyone. ]

Ain't a bad idea, [ he reaffirms. Better to make allies-- they might need them. ] Just oughta take time for us, too.

[ She gives him a little smile and nudges him with her shoulder. ]

I'll always have time for you, Pookie.

[ There's something weighing on him. Weighing on all of them. Carol can't quite put her finger on what but it seems to be something she doesn't know and the rest of them do.

What happened after she left?

She doesn't want to ask here, though. Not now. Not when it could cause upset. She'll wait until a less celebratory time. ]

[ See, that? All of this? Them together with food and space and no imminent threats? He'd like more of that, and there's a part of him-- a stubborn, irrational part, he knows-- that doesn't want to share it with anyone else here, no matter that it seems like they're good folk.

Times like this, you could almost forget about everything that happened. To Glenn. To Carl. Hell, for a little while they could almost pretend they're just normal people from a normal place.

He's not thinking about it, at the moment. The things she might or might not have learned-- the lie he told her. For now he just glances back with half a smile. He can try to not be a greedy asshole, he figures. ]

[Closed] I mean, breakfast cobbler?

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