so let's raise the bar

[shoyu]

CHARACTERS: Soysauce & open!
LOCATION: Kitchens, oxygen gardens and hallways.
SUMMARY: Trying to stay optimistic and light-hearted.
NOTES: Open for any time until next jump!

[ soysauce is a little thick sometimes; that's difficult to deny, and he's even willing to acknowledge it himself. but that doesn't mean he's ignorant to the constant danger present aboard the tranquility. he's definitely aware of how the ship can warp at any moment and throw everything into chaos; whatever atmosphere of peace that may rest over the ship at the moment is temporary at best.

but -- isn't that all the more reason to make the best of it while it lasts? he's never been good at remaining serious for too long, always searching for a silver lining to any exhausting situation, trying to keep spirits up no matter how difficult the situation. and so Soysauce spends his days cheerfully, offering the brightest smile he can manage to anyone who might meet his gaze. whenever he's not on security duty, he's out and around -- keeping himself occupied in the most high-spirited way he can. ]

kitchens ;

[ he spends a fair amount of time in the kitchens. it's peaceful there, and he likes to cook extra food whenever he can -- leaving it in the fridge in little containers, marked 'free for taking.' (he knows a few people here probably can't or won't cook -- no shame in that! -- so he'd like to make their lives just a bit easier.)

people walking by the kitchen might catch the savory scent of food cooking, the sound of pots and pans and utensils clanking. but they might also hear the lilting noise of cheerful whistling and humming, and maybe the sounds of shoes tapping lightly against the floor -- when he's waiting for things to simmer and cook, soy sometimes spends his time dancing. always keeping himself occupied somehow or the other. ]

hallways & gardens ;

[ he tends to be a bit less productive in the evenings, though. (words can't describe how much soysauce misses his home at times. the busy streets, the bright lights, the bustling nightlife of beacon -- things he holds dear to his heart and can't find anything even close to aboard the tranquility.) never content to just sit still anywhere, even while intoxicated, soy takes to wandering around the ship -- cheerfully waving and chirping at anyone he recognizes.

whiskey bottle in hand, cheeks slightly pink, pleasantly light-headed from the alcohol swimming in his veins, soysauce walks the hallways without any real destination, often ending up roaming the gardens in search of some poor person (victim?) to talk to. ]

Comments

Gardens ARE YOU SICK OF ME YET~~~~~

[godofthemachine]

[Fresh air isn't something AM is entirely used to. And even in these oxygen gardens, it still feels artificial. It's not the real thing. He'll probably never get to experience the real thing, because fate has cursed him that way. It's partially due to this resentment that he doesn't spend too much time in the gardens, at least not more than he feels necessary. But he can't deny that this body needs to at least pretend to experience fresh air, greenery, something resembling Earth's natural state. What it once was. Fresh oxygen keeps the body and mind healthier, more active...

So sometimes he would go to the gardens and at least attempt to convince himself he was situated in one of Earth's greenhouses. At night he had gone, hoping there would be fewer people. Whether or not he's right, he at least stays away from them, seated by several leafy plants as he looks over his communication device.

Sad that he can hardly find enjoyment in the trivial things that humans like. Reading is the closest thing he can find pleasurable in terms of "trivial human entertainment," but only so he can scoff at the writings. Or simply laugh at their ridiculousness. Romance novels are something he enjoys so that he can utterly mock the human tendency to focus on sex - poorly-written sex at that. Or he'll read famous works of literature that he's already familiar with, simply to get ideas, particularly from religious works.

It's a sad way to pass the time, though, as he sits by the large leaves and scrolls through a digital copy of a poetry collection. Hardly anything artistic about it, really. Even with these human senses, art is something that is difficult for AM to relate to at all, especially this mishmash of words. Not too involved in his work, he at least is able to hear when someone is coming close.]

i would never be sick of you -- !!!!

[shoyu]

[ more than an year spent aboard the ship, and the oxygen gardens still boggle soy's minds, in some ways. he's spent his whole life in the heated, barren flatlands of dustbowl, after all -- huge stretches of sand and cracked desert earth for as far as the eye can see, punctuated only by patches of fertile land and oases. even the lushest gardens and nurseries kept by the richest landowners in beacon pale in comprison to the rich greenery of the oxygen gardens, and so soy often finds himself in the gardens while drunk -- drinking in the delicious fresh air, basking in the atmosphere, practically intoxicated on the overwhelming sight of all this green.

he loves the gardens -- as much as he loves just about everything and everyone else, especially while he's tipsy -- and soysauce is surprisingly light on his feet as he wanders about the gardens. pretty impressive, given how much whiskey he's knocked back.

in such a good mood, soysauce can't help humming softly as he picks his way between the trees, whistling and singing in between breaths -- giving a happy little noise when he spots someone familiar sitting by a big clump of leafy plants. ]

Ah, Mister AM! [ whatever reservations he might have about AM vanish entirely once he's got a few drinks in him, and soysauce sounds sincerely happy to see AM as he gives a large wave of his arm. ] Good evening! Funny running into you here, sir! Do you come here often? [ he's got a mostly-empty whiskey bottle in his other hand as he patters over, crouching down beside where AM is as he peers over towards the book in his hands. ] Ah, are you studying something? You always seem so focused!

aaaaa clings to you grossly

[godofthemachine]

[It's a somewhat secluded area where AM sits, where he can at least think he's sitting in a large forest or greenhouse. The leaves on these plants are quite incredible - being a couple feet in length at least, though it's not even close to what the largest leaves on Earth could be. Not that he ever really appreciated them.

He looks up from his device when he hears those slightly uneven footsteps. Soysauce. Of course. It had been probably four days or so since they had last gotten together, or something along those lines. AM, of course, appreciates him for certain reasons, but otherwise Soysauce can be absolutely annoying. Especially now, since AM can smell the alcohol, can see the bottle in his hand.]

Soy.

[He puts the device down (since really, he's hardly enjoying reading it anyway) and looks up. He still looks rather serious, but not dismayed that Soysauce has come to bother him. As annoying as the other can be, he's at least more entertaining than that drivel on his device.]

I'm just reading some mindless drivel.

[shoyu]

[ it's actually surprisingly difficult maintaining his balance in that crouched position, the world seeming to sway before his eyes a bit as his balance wobbles, and soysauce ultimately ends up just sitting next to where AM is -- knees drawn up so he can rest his cheek on them, try and keep himself steady in that way. though he's not completely smashed, he's well on his way there -- rather evident in the way he blinks sleepily, his cheeks tinged with pink and his hair disheveled. ]

Eeeh. 'Mindless drivel.' I take it it wasn't quite to your tastes?

[ a rather lame laugh before he offers the bottle forth in case AM would like a sip? ]

You're so intelligent, though, so perhaps it just isn't satisfying enough? [ a slightly wistful sigh. ]

It must be nice, sir! Being so intelligent. Ah, not to -- to trivialize things that you've learned or -- or things that didn't come to you easily. But still. I've always admired people who are smart!

[godofthemachine]

Poetry.

[He clarifies what he had been reading, a book of various Biblical-inspired poetry. Some of it had been interesting, but most is just sad. He can understand the appeal of creating such pictures with words, assigning them to a meter, but he can't consider it "art." It's just... Well, it's difficult for his highly logical mind to fully process.

He looks over at Soysauce who has now made a comfortable seat right next to him. His eyes briefly flicker to that nearly-empty bottle of whiskey, and AM is somewhat tempted. But drinking is something he has to be so very careful with that he shakes his head briefly when the bottle is offered. Only sighing when that intelligence is once more gushed over. Something Soysauce seems to do constantly when they're together. (Soy seems so pathetically stupid that AM's intellect probably overwhelms him.)]

It's one of the benefits of being a machine, I suppose. Pre-progammed knowledge, fast learning capabilities... [He grunts in amusement at that. Only he knows how horribly that turned out.]

KITCHENS, LET'S DO THIS.

[fuckinghysterical]

[Although LB does catch a whiff of whatever was cooking, at the time, she was actually more interested in trying to dig around for a pack of instant noodles. Not the most creative thing to cook, but it was easy to make and sustainable enough.

But when she comes across the kitchen area and sees Soy dancing, she pauses, giggling a little as she sets her elbows on a nearby counter, leaning forward to nest her chin between both hands.]

Having fun? Heeheehee~? I don't think I typically see people get this excited over cooking.

aW YEH IT'S GONNA BE A DATE

[shoyu]

[ humming some cheerfully melody under his breath as he does a lively spin, soysauce looks over the moment he hears someone entering the kitchen -- stumbling as that sudden movement pulls him off balance. one, two awkward, stumbling steps as he tries not to fall over -- -- ] -- wah -- oof! [ -- before he manages to straighten up, giving LB a slightly sheepish little smile. ]

Ah! Good afternoon, m'lady! [ a soft laugh as he rocks on his heels, looking a little embarrassed. ] As much as I enjoy working in the kitchen, the dancing's more a way of keeping myself occupied, I must admit! Waiting for something to cook's that much more fun when one can stay occupied, yes?

YEEEEEEE

[fuckinghysterical]

[A few more laughs escape her, while LB straightens her posture, as leaning forward for too terribly long got to be a little bit of a pain.]

"Watch the pot, it'll never boil", right?

[She smiles as she says it, but it's a rather mild one-- it was something she remembered her mom telling her many years ago. But-- no reason to be thinking about that, right now.]

So, ah, what are you cooking anyway?

[LB was merely curious, looking around at the pots he was cooking in, rather than hoping he was going to share some. Her mindset was still to fend for herself; asking for scraps just wasn't in her nature.]

[shoyu]

[ it's been quite a long time since he's danced for any sort of audience, and it's admittedly a little embarrassing being caught like this -- but at least LB seems to find it amusing enough. rubbing a hand at the back of his neck, cheeks pinking slightly, soysauce manages a sheepish laugh before perking up at that inquiry. ]

Ah, it's a little pasta dish, at the moment. Something nice and light, nothing too complicated.

[ and then he gives LB the brightest, most charming smile he has in him. giving her a polite bow, accompanied by a dramatic sweep of an arm -- emulating an old-school gentleman quite well, even in the smooth tone of voice as he adds, ]

But if it pleases the lady, it would be my honor to have her for dinner.

gardens; this will go very very well

[handelaar]

[Netherlands has spent the days since the jump just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Part of it is due to all of the shit that already has a good chunk of the ship collectively holding its breath. Skipping a jump, Hotspur's year-late post, the lone new guy. Add onto that the fact that Jaye has gone crazy and gone from the Gardens both, his space kid's head is apparently in danger of exploding, and Heather has (in his opinion) painted a bright red target on her back - well, he's a lot more high strung than normal, lately.

Probably why Josias isn't the only staff member who's been steering clear of him.

It's getting late - nearing 23:00 and he's finished enough today for him to be considering heading up to the passenger decks, play football by himself or maybe train with Russia for long enough to wind down. Maybe end up in Heather's bed or vice versa. Hm. He lights a cigarette and wheels his bike to an open-ish area on the main floor, pulls out his communicator, and. Frowns as he hears someone shuffling along. Glances up, sees who it is, and immediately becomes 1000% absorbed with the business of texting Heather because he doesn't like Soy and I like irony okay.]

how can this possibly go wrong

[shoyu]

[ soysauce is -- an idiot. he's been accused of it so many times by now that he's almost a little used to it. but he's not completely oblivious! he does tend to notice things, even if it's in hindsight and a little too late, and soysauce isn't completely ignorant of when he might make people uncomfortable. so when soysauce walks through the garden, humming softly to himself as he thinks about nothing much in particular and notices ned -- he perks up, hesitates for a moment, then patters over. ]

Ah -- Mister Netherlands?

[ he sounds a little meeker than before, and soysauce puts on the most disarming, harmless smile he can possibly manage. his footsteps slow down from a jog to a walk as he draws close, and he looks up at ned from a short distance away, hands folded behind his back -- neatly concealing the bottle, so he can at least try and pretend to be polite and not-intoxicated. ] Um! I apologize for eh, bothering you if you're busy. But! I -- ah. [ try as he might, he can be quite as eloquent as usual when he's drunk, and soysauce struggles to find the right words. ] I thought over things a bit! And realized that I might have made the wrong impression, last time. So I wanted to apologize. If I mad you uncomfortable?

let us count the ways

[handelaar]

[Goddammit. He sighs out a plume of smoke and spends quite a few more seconds than necessary glaring at his comms. Jerks his chin up, shoves the device into his pocket and grabs onto his bike (didn't mean to do that), other hand at the cigarette in his mouth as he stares the guy down and narrows his eyes when he can't see any hands. The fuck is that for.

Soysauce rambles on and tries to make things better, but Netherlands becomes increasingly suspicious of whatever Soy might be holding back there. What is that. All he really gets out of all of the talk is that Soysauce wants to blab too much about feelings that Netherlands doesn't have let alone share or care about, and since he doesn't give a shit, neither should this guy. And if this guy does care? That's suspicious as hell. So it's with a bit of force that he speaks.]

Leave me alone.

[Hey, better than "go away or I'll flip you over".]

[shoyu]

I'm afraid I can't do that, sir!

[ soysauce's answer is prompt and, perhaps surprisingly, also a little forceful. no -- 'forceful' might not be the right word. 'determined' seems more accurate.

and it's definitely determined when soysauce pounces forward, grasping at ned's sleeve with his free hand, his other hand still clumsily holding the whiskey bottle at his side as he looks up at ned -- really quite stubborn about keeping ned here, not letting him leave before there's a proper conversation going. ]

It's -- it's about manners, sir! As in -- as in, I would really like to fix what I did wrong! [ he's got enough liquor in him that he doesn't quite seem to realize the contradiction between his words and his actions, and soy gives a little nod as he continues stumbling through his words. ] An' it's very important! I think. Important -- to me, at least -- that I understand what it was that you seemed so uncomfortable about. Please, I'd like to know for sure.

HALLWAYS This'll do, prose because I'm obnoxious

[magewarden]

Daylen is tired, slightly ruffled as he wanders the hallways back from the security office. The world is a vague blur of activity around him, something he's rather numbing himself to. People come and go, and yet for some reason he is damned to stay in this place forever. It feels as if perhaps he has committed some great wrong and this is his punishment -- to constantly be forced to reunite with people then lose them again.

At least, he supposes, he has found something to occupy himself with now. Security might mean he has the power to prevent more of his friends, new and old, being hurt. It also might mean he has the power to make his voice be heard better, which Daylen is very much aware of -- although he isn't about to say that directly to anyone. That is a thought to be stored until he has time to understand it, to understand the order of things and what he would have to do to use it.

He's distracted, fiddling with his network device as he walks, when he catches sight of movement out of the corner of his eye and looks up to see the person moving towards him. Soysauce, his mind reminds him, some kind of marksman. Good cooking skills. Also a musician. In security too.

Ah, someone he'll be working with then. He makes an effort to smile despite the tiredness pulling at him, nods a slightly formal greeting.

"Ah, good evening. It seems like we may be seeing more of each other in the future, I have just been approved into the security contingent."

[shoyu]

Soysauce isn't really much for self-restraint or inhibitions even when sober -- so it can't be too surprising that he's an incredibly happy drunk, most of the time. There's the pleasant haze of alcohol coloring through his thoughts and Soysauce whistles to himself as he makes his way down the hallway. Footsteps light and spry, he wanders around without any real destination or goal in mind -- perking up as soon as he recognizes someone familiar coming down the hallway from the opposite direction.

"Ah, Mister Daylen!" A cheerful call and Soysauce gives a wide wave of his arm, as if greeting someone who he hasn't seen in years and years. Ah, but it has been some time since he's spoken to Daylen, hasn't it? Soysauce trots over gladly, standing at rapt attention as Daylen speaks.

"You've joined the security department!" There's a small, somewhat startled blink as he parrots Daylen's words and processes the information. Pause, pause before everything seems to click and Soysauce grins. "Ah, that's excellent new! The security department could always use extra hands, especially ones as dependable as yours, sir!"

It's completely sincere, the way he says it, and Soysauce gives a curious little cant of the head. "Does that mean you'll be using the same firearms as the rest of us? Or will we get the benefit of your magic?"

[magewarden]

He mirrors the headtilt, examining Soysauce more critically. Inebriated, he thinks, and years of tolerating Oghren finds him inured to it. The man is at least cheerful, and not offensive or aggressive in his drunkenness.

"By firearm," he begins, "do you mean your marksman's weapon? I will certainly attempt to learn, if it is required of me. I have been learning some basic hand-to-hand combat, although I find I am now... devoid of my practice partners. If it is useful or necessary, my magic is of course available to the department. I am an elemental mage at my core, although I have learned the art of being a shifter too for what it is worth."

[shoyu]

Not used to guns, yet. Well, that's reasonably. As much as Soysauce has spent his entire life using guns, he can certainly imagine how someone who's never seen or used one before would take some time to get used to them -- or want to instead rely on more familiar tools.

"Ah, well! If you're in need of a sparring partner!" Soysauce, of course, gives a grand sweep of his arm, standing a bit taller and puffing out his chest. He might not be the best when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, but if it's against a fellow novice, it should be alright to offer his time! "I may not look it, but I've a bit of experience with it! Had to learn it to survive back home! So you need only to ask, and I am at your beck and call!"

kitchens

[walksonrooftops]

[The day after the solstice is always a bit of a lazy day, spent taking naps or loitering around between his room and the halls. But most importantly, there's barely a day in the year on which Asato feels more hungry, and sooner or later his ventures out of his room take him towards the kitchens in search of a snack or two to scavenge, though what he really hopes for is to find someone cooking--Bardo, perhaps, or--

There's food. Tentatively he sticks his nose in the air and sniffs a time or two, and once he's sure this scent is coming from the kitchen on their floor and not from a passenger room (he's starving but not raring to start kicking doors in and stealing dinners from unsuspecting passengers), he quickens his pace to a trot as he heads down the hallway. While it's harder to spot than on some of the more outspoken inhabitants of the ship, Asato's in a good mood, mellow and still almost dreamy in the aftermath of one hell of a day yesterday... A drowsy, hazy look still dwells in his eyes, and he reaches the kitchen before he's fully aware of having done so.

But. Food. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the whistling and humming as Soy before he actually sees the guy, but though he'd prepared himself to see Soysauce in the kitchen, he hadn't expected the dancing. For now, he keeps his distance, coming to a halt right outside the doorway and glancing in, his ears perked in curiosity--half about the dancing and half about the food.

Food wins out.]

What are you making?

[shoyu]

[ the air certainly smells delicious, and soy seems to be having plenty of fun even all by himself -- humming some jazzy little tune to himself as he dances around with a mop. he's already washed some of the dishes he was using, and he figures it wouldn't hurt to clean up after himself a bit while waiting for the food on the stove to simmer. tapping lightly from one foot to the other, each movement spry and energetic, soy sings a few quiet words to himself, completely oblivious to his visitor until asato speaks up.

he promptly spins around on his heel, holding the mop in the crook of his arm like a dance partner -- expression brightening to a cheery grin as soon as he recognizes asato. ]

Ah, good afternoon! I hope you didn't catch too much of that little display ... [ a sheepish little laugh before he looks over towards the pot bubbling merrily away on the stovetop. ] I'm making some stew! Nothing too fancy, but it should be fairly filling. Had some time while it simmered, so I was cleaning up. But it should be done in just a few moments, I think.

[ a little sniff of the air to make sure it still smells right before soysauce turns back to asato and grins, idly toying with the mop's handle as he speaks. ]

Perhaps you'd join me for a bite to eat? I made quite a large batch, and I'd be honored to have the company!

[walksonrooftops]

[Asato's line of sight follows Soy's over to the pot on the stovetop, where his attention lingers long enough to leave little doubt about what might have brought him here. The singing, dancing, and humming are as much a source of confusion as they are of intrigue, but none of these things take him wholly by surprise after he's had a few patrols at Soysauce's side, listening to his humming and committing the few words he catches here and there to memory, but never participating with the same energy.

It's tolerable, if he's looking for something to break the silence. And he could use a little bit of company from a familiar face right now, leaving Konoe some alone time to do as he pleases. Maybe he can bring a little food back for him...

After Soy's made his offer, Asato quietly inches into the kitchen, not afraid but still a little unsteady on his feet, less concerned about keeping up appearances when he's not on his work shift and has only Soysauce around to watch. The stovetop's his main target; once he's close enough he peers down, reaches carefully for the pot's lid but changes his mind--probably best to leave it be if it's not done, right?]

Is there really enough? [His tone's hopeful as he looks back up to Soy, smiling subtly. Nothing but good moods today, and if he can get some food in his belly, then that's even better.]

[shoyu]

[ soysauce can't help but consider asato fondly -- there's some awfully endearing about that curious gaze, the way those ears flick ever so slightly with each word. idly toying with the mop's handle as asato approaches to take a cautious look at the simmering contents of the pot on the stove, soysauce laughs -- leaning on the mop as he answers with a cheerful smile. ]

I'm quite certain! I tend to cook a lot at once and leave some for people who might scavenge through the freezer box later. And it'd would be much tastier to eat it now, instead of waiting and going through that extra step of waiting and reheating it later, wouldn't it?

[ a little nod to punctuate his words before soysauce taps over to wring the mop out and put it aside for the moment -- washing his hands in the sink before he patters over towards the stovetop. another little grin at asato before he lifts the lid to the pot. immediately, a cloud of steam comes wafting out, along with the savory scent of stew -- as delicious as one can make anything with the lackluster ingredients available aboard the vessel. a small check of the time before soysauce fetches a spoon and looks to asato. ]

Mmmm, I must admit I'm not really sure if this would be to your tastes -- but if you'd like a taste first, I think it's been simmering long enough by now?

backdated to just after Ned being a wad haha

[sweetmotherofgod]

[Dancing in the kitchen? Actually not that much of an abnormality to Heather. She's always been the type to want to help (or... interfere, depends on your perspective), and due to her tendency to be a near total flop in the culinary arts, her father had found a range of ways to make tiny Heather - still Cheryl, really - feel like she was helping without actually doing anything. Like handing her a jar of salad dressing, cranking the radio and instructing her to shake it up. Anyway, it's always good to see Soy and especially good to see him in the kitchen, so she might just groove on over. Yes sir, I can boogie.]

Whatcha makin'?

[shoyu]

[ his dancing's a little lackluster, his movements a little less energetic than usual when heather drops by -- having a wicked hangover tends to do that to you. his headache hasn't vanished entirely just yet, but soysauce still hums quietly to himself, keeping an eye on a simmering pot of soup while wiping down the countertop. might as well do something productive until he's fully recovered, yes?

he's just lifting the lid on the pot to check on how the soup's coming along when he hears heather's voice and looks up, promptly giving her a bright smile. ]

'ello! Just some soup -- nice and simple, but excellent for hangovers.

[sweetmotherofgod]

[Honestly? She wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't mentioned it. People generally look one version or another of totally shitty around here and sometimes it just seems more polite not to mention it.]

I'll take your word for it. I always used to try McDonald's fries and a coke as big as my head.

[It does smell incredible, though. If any soup could cure a hangover - and she's not saying it could - that stuff'd do the trick. She turns to lean against the bench and watch him, trying not to smirk.]

Was there at least a good time to go with the hangover?

[shoyu]

... McDonald's?

[ a small tilt of the head as he parrots that name. a friend of her's, perhaps? he's never considered using cola as a hangover cure, but maybe it would be worth a try sometime?

still turning those thoughts over at the back of his mind, soysauce gives an idle smile, stirring the pot with a ladle and making sure nothing's burnt or stuck to the bottom of the pot. ]

Eeeh, I suppose that would depend on one's definition of 'a good time?' [ a slightly sheepish laugh as he tries to remember exactly what he spent the previous evening doing. a lot of aimless wandering, after which he vaguely remembers -- ] I ended up loitering around the gardens for a while. Nothing too exciting, I'm afraid.