[Closed] I mean, breakfast cobbler?

[perservering]

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.

Comments

[worn_wings]

[ Under the circumstances, there really isn't any arguing with that.

He pauses, just long enough for the silence to verge on uncomfortable, the void filled with the thing they keep dancing around. That Glenn is dead, that it's his fault, no matter what. ]

They let you change ships?

[ Small talk, this is what they're reduced to. Jesus. They'll sort it out, sooner or later. ]

[rheecon]

[ Eventually. For now, they'll get by with this. The truth is, he doesn't exactly know how to handle being dead, let alone face someone who's blaming himself for it. Even if he doesn't - and he doesn't - it's not like he can just stop Daryl. ]

I'll be finding out. Everyone's been really nice where I am, but... [ Well, obviously. ]

I think they'll get it.

[worn_wings]

[ He shrugs. ]

Fuck 'em, if they don't.

[ As always Daryl is extremely polite and respectful of the feelings and needs of strangers. ]

Plenty of food, [ he adds, nodding at the spread. Eating is better than conversation, and besides. Glenn's the newest one here, probably the least used to having so much on offer. He better take advantage of it. ]

[rheecon]

[ There, he chuckles. ]

Yeah. Fuck 'em.

[ He does run his gaze over the spread, taking in the sight. He's been happy just to be fed anything with regularity, let alone what Carol's managed to assemble here. ]

I'm probably gonna make myself sick.

[ Said with an air that makes it clear this is not a complaint. ]

[worn_wings]

Good.

[ That is as it should be. Eat enough to regret it and then do the same thing-- with maybe a little more restraint-- the next day. ]

Should see what happens when we get somewhere with real food.

[ Not that they can't dress up protein gels and whatnot-- not that it'd bother him to eat it plain, when it means he's never going hungry-- but jesus, she made a chocolate chip cake once. He's not sure it wasn't an hallucination. ]

[rheecon]

Can't wait.

[ He grins there, all while going about the business of getting himself a plate. ]

So what kind of food are we talking here? Find any alien delicacies yet?

[worn_wings]

Dunno. Hard to say what some'f it is.

[ Not that anything so minor stops him from eating it. ]

Mostly there's a lot of it. Some places, anyway.

[rheecon]

[ He'd never guess that it would. ]

Well, I look forward to tasting a lot of stuff I can't totally identify. In a different way.