2011-03-29 - A Feast for the Argama

It's strange how a person can come a long way in a very short period of time.

Still, everyone starts somewhere and Lin has only begun the long road from being

a possible enemy to becoming a part of the Argama. It had started with one kind

act on the part of Quatre, and slowly things had begun to change. Now, a few

weeks later, the rescued framerunner had begun training with the Argama's pilots,

and had at least some of her restrictions lifted. It's still a long way to go.

Even so, she decided to try to do something to give back to the people who had

rescued her from possibly certain death at the hands of the A-LAWs. After

spending quite a bit of time helping the kitchen staff, she'd come to realize

that she had a skill with cooking - and that had sparked an idea.

The smell of freshly baked cookies permiates the air around the Mess Hall, enough

to tantilize and taunt most of the crew as none of them had made it out of the

kitchens thus far. Along with that comes the aluring smells of homemade bread and

roasting meat. Lin has been /very/ busy.

Then, the doors from the kitchen open, and various staff emerge carrying covered

trays. The food is set out along the long central table, including one of the

largest arrays of baked goods the Argama has probably ever seen. It's dinner

time, and it seems the entire crew is the guests of honor. Still, from the doors

to the kitchen, Lin lingers, watching with a tentative gaze.

As far as a bunch of anti-government renegades go, the crew of the Argama drop suspicions when there's food as far as the eye can see.

Torres and Saegusa, the ship's navigators, are in the midst of digging into chow with little regard for manners. Lieutenants Apolly Bay and Roberto, two parts of the elite Rick Dias team, are more interested in trading jokes over LITE BEER.

Shinta and Qum, the Argama's token orphans, devour into freshly baked cookies like little demons possessed. At this rate, they'll probably eat themselves sick!

Moments later, the clipped click-clacks of boot-soles on the deck floor heralds the arrival of the Admiral. He's been feeling a bit peckish and a vending machine hamburger could go a long way to satisfying this feeling. Much to the chagrin of Dr. Hasan, who has since complained that Bright's love-affair with hamburgers is fast becoming a cholesterol problem.

No one manages to salute Bright, they're all too busy eating. Those goddamned savages.

More often than not, people who visit the Argama-- or are held prisoner there-- come away from the experience rather surprised. The orphans, the friends and atmosphere, the rampant amount of teenagers on the ship, and all of the high-powered weaponry that they hide within it's confines. One of their crew recently returned from visiting someone who once took refuge in the ship, during the Aerogater invasion.

Rachel Miu Athha takes a few gliding steps in from the hall, hands on the doorframe as she moves inside. From the smudges on her t-shirt and the mechanic's coveralls that are tied off around her waist, it looks like she's either on a break or at the end of her shift down in the hangars. The smell is what immediately draws her attention-- she's never really smelled fresh-baked cookies before, that she can remember-- and her head lifts a bit as she takes a deep breath in through her nose. "That smells... /awesome./"

She's been hanging out with Judau for too long.

About five seconds from stuffing a dinner roll into her mouth, she stops and looks up at Bright, then the kitchen staff, then back to Bright. Hmm... she doesn't recognize that one cook all that well... "When did we start getting food like this, sir? This is a big change from the usual!"

If nothing else, it seems that Oliver had been right when he'd told her that actual home cooking would be well received on the Argama. At the very least, Lin is thankful for one skill that seems to easily translate from whatever past life she had before this one. Seeing the crew dig in to the meal brings a small smile to her lips, one hand resting on the door.

She's dressed in one of the outfits Quatre bought for her - luckily one of the more normal ones: A long sleeved layered shirt with an inlaid pattern and a pair of jeans that couldn't snug any tighter to her hips if they were a trace suit. She doesn't /quite/ look like your normal run of the mill kitchen staff.

While most of the surprised looks from the arrivals manage to bring some look of satisfication to her face, Bright is another matter entirely. Her smile falters for a moment, the pale-haired woman tugging the sleeves of her shirt down over her seemingly tatooed arms. Dr. Hasan had already overriden one of the Admiral's orders and allowed the framerunner near her mech if only to ward off the detox symptoms that plagued her early days, and she had been getting pilot training which probably was not on his original plans.

Still, Lin might be one of the few that do manage a salute in his direction, although it isn't quite practiced and seems nervous at best. He /could/ have just dropped her off at a facility somewhere by now, but for some reason she is still on the Argama. That's a good thing, right? Then, with an inclination of her head, the young woman just lingers for the time being, not wanting to risk any undue ire.

Bright Noa frowns. It is the frown of a man caught unprepared. "I.. don't know," he answers Rachel. "I don't remember a banquet being on our most recent cargo manifests." He pauses, smelling the aromas that waft out. "..or a five-star chef for that matter."

The Admiral lifts his eyes and looks over his crew, catching Lin out the corner of his eye. "..It's that strange girl we picked up recently," he confides to Rachel. "Perhaps there's more to her than being a soldier..?" Bright shrugs, the material of his jacket rumpling slightly. "Better get a plate while you can, Rachel. By the looks of things, it won't last for long."

Rachel returns a beaming smile and nods. "Of course!"

And she starts fixing herself a plate, gathering a bit of this and that, and actually gathering a fairly balanced meal for herself in the process. This teenager is not afraid of her vegetables, that's for sure!

The white-haired girl turns her attention to Alina, given that she's the one face out of the group that she doesn't actually recognize. There's no judgment or hostility in her eyes, and this young mechanic certainly has an aura of enthusiasm-- a fact that does not ever escape her Newtype companions on board.

"Hi! I'm Rachel," she says, waving from across the table. "I help out down in the hangar a lot of the time. Everyone else is still light-years ahead of me, though..."

When it seems that her presence doesn't get much of a reaction, Lin takes the opportunity to step forward and grab a plate of her own, taking a few things and stacking them up in neat little piles - nothing touching. Wherever the habit had come from, it still lingers behind, even where her memories don't. She's halfway to grabbing a few cookies when Rachel introduces herself.

Really, it isn't in Lin's nature to be shy, although all the new faces on the Argama sometimes were a bit overwhelming, especially with her short-term memory not quite up to par. She gives a small smile, "Hey. Nice to meet you." Then, the cookies are snatched just before the tray can be fully emptied. "I'm Lin." Somewhere along the line, she stopped qualifying that with an 'I think', better to just go with it than explain the whole sorry story again.

"I guess I'm a pilot, Macua is training me, but I spend most of my free time up here in the kitchens." With a motion of her chin towards the doors, she shrugs slightly, then slides into a seat. "I can't remember much about anything before the Argama, but apparently I knew how to cook." Thumbing at the array of foods, Lin just grins wrly, seeming just a little proud of herself. "Quatre helped, though. He loaned me his Neo-Platinum card to pay for the the ingredients, and Oliver told me this kind of thing might be popular." She lowers her voice, "He wasn't kidding."

It's a strange ship but she's often on it herself. She'sbeen here a few days and now she's looking for food, oh she's looking for food. One might even hear the growl from it's stomach. The Gundam fighter is clearl hungery nd seeks food. She spots Alina Rachel and Bright whom she waves to and starts to gravitate towards.

She's seemingly chipper too.

"Hey good to see."

She nods a little bit. "So food for a moment and oh he did? Lucky you."

She grins a bit. "Can I join all?"

Macua. Oliver. Quatre.

Collusion, eh!

Bright Noa's eyes tighten as he listens to Lin talk to Rachel. That sneaky little -- oh hey, is that a peanut-butter cookie? Transfixed by such a delicious sight of a baked good that combines sweet and salty, the Admiral's suspicions are put at ease as he worries over getting one before losing it to the Orphans.

"Wh--!" Bright has to recoil right fast, as Qum nearly bites his fingertips off in her near-mindless feast of baked goods. All he has are his fingers in one piece.. and a sliver of peanut-butter cookie.

Phew, Bright lets out a faint sigh of relief. "Might as well, Macua," he mentions as he looks over his shoulder to the Gundam Fighter from Brazil. "Please, have a seat. You pilots need as much nutrition as possible."

Rachel has since dug into the dinner roll that she'd taken. Someone's hand goes reaching for her plate, and the young Newtype gives it a light slap across the knuckles to prevent the theft of any food-- all while she's looking up at Alina still. Turning her head, her hand lifts. "Hey, Macua!"

Rachel nods. "I pilot too. I... actually have any number of things, depending on where we go," she clarifies, nodding. "But the red Zeta Gundam down in the hangar is mine-- I'm test piloting it, anyway. If you ever need some pointers besides what you learn, there's a whole lot of us that can help!"

"You're better off than I am. I can't cook at all, I... I'm just no good at it," she admits a little sheepishly. Her thoughts, of course, turn to a familiar friend-- the young navigator and one-time pilot that is no longer with them, presumably living back at home now. "I learned how to make pizza, one time..."

The slightly downcast look on her face melts, as well, once she gets back into eating. "Oh, this is /good/. Go ahead and sit down, come on!"

Lin's expression brightens further at Macua's arrival. Even before Quatre, she'd been the first person to actually be nice to her. As much as the Brazilian had put her through the ringer when it comes to her flight training, there is still an affection there. "Hey Macua. Grab yourself some food before it all disappears." Her smile ends up a bit more at ease. The crew were enjoying, this is /good/.

"I think he sees me as his pet project. It's a shame he couldn't be here, though. He left a few days ago." There is a certain tone of sadness in her voice, but it doesn't linger too long, the young framerunner shaking her head. "I'll have to make him something special when he gets back."

Between Bright's fingers nearly being gnawed off, and people trying to make off with Rachel's food, Lin has to stifle a laugh, covering her mouth. "Maybe I should cook more often so there isn't such a feeding frenzy." Her expression is a bit more subdued when she looks towards the Admiral, "If you like those, sir, I can always make a batch and have it brought to your quarters." If only to keep greedy fingers off of it.

"But really, Macua's been doing a great job. I can /almost/ fly a Hizack without too much trouble." She rubs at the back of her neck, not sounding completely sure about that one. "I've been mostly running through the simulations a lot. My memory still isn't back to normal, so I'm having trouble remembering what buttons do what."

Macua Huitl nods "Thank you!"

She starts to dig in at this point.

"I use far too many as well but well there's a long story about it. That ZETA sure is something it's pretty crazy what Wong's people can make if you throw enough credits at them."

She looks back to Alina now as she does end up taking her place with the others.

"It's going to be interesting if we get some planet side training as he biggest things that can get an Earthnoid pilot or spacenoid pilot killed is shifting to one environment from the other for the first time. Don't force the memory, just let it come it will find it's way back one way or another."

"Also Admiral I'm drafting up several targets to hit soon as well and start the bleed on the A-laws supply lines."

Bright Noa nods to Macua. "Good to hear, Macua. I trust in your abilities." He seems slightly off-kilter. Maybe because he's still inspecting his fingertips. These damn kids, they're like predators! "..No, that's quite alright," Bright tells Lin. "It's probably better for my cholesterol that I just have this much, anyway."

Thirty must be the new fifty.

"I see... well, if you're a Natural-- err, I-I mean, ah... if you're not a Newtype, or anything special, Morgenroete has a line of Mobile Suits that are really well-suited to beginners or intermediate-level pilots. The Astray and space-use M1A Astray are out there in numbers, but there's also what I used to pilot, a Murasame. There's variants for both, too. I know some people on the Orb Islands, if you ever wanted to try one," she says.

By the way, her favorite t-shirt, the one she's wearing, is the one with the Morgenroete, Inc. logo branded across the chest. It more or less explains her product awareness, there.

Rachel looks down, her expression crestfallen as she holds her knife and fork a little more gently. "Oh, none of this sounds good no matter how I try to say it, huh...?"

"I'm not a Newtype. Not as far as I know." Lin replies, looking thoughtful for a moment. She'd heard the term before, and had a general idea what it meant. "So far as anyone can tell, I'm Martian born, and I was a pilot before all this." Her hand reaches up, instinctively rubbing over the scars still barely visible through her hair, but then she stops, offering a small smile. "It's kind of like learning to walk all over again. Your body remembers some things, but others just don't come naturally."

Her eyes shift across to Macua, nodding her head with a more serious expression. The Martian pilot had certainly taken the training seriously - to the point that she had to be asked to reduce her logged in simulator time by Dr. Hasan who didn't think it was that healthy of a pasttime. "I'm looking forward to it. If nothing else, I can show you that I'm getting better at it." She doesn't comment about the A-LAWs, although her eyes do linger a moment longer on Macua before giving a curiously raised eyebrow at Rachel.

"Huh?" Lin asks, sounding a little confused. "I'm not sure what you mean." Drawing a few strands of hair out of her eyes, the framerunner blinks, "Really, there's just so much to learn, or relearn. Although I am glad the cooking is coming in handy." That's when she actually offers a smile to Bright. Gasp. Yes, she's at least trying to get over her fear of the Admiral. "You have to worry about your cholesterol?" She asks, curiously. "Maybe it's stress. Dr. Hasan was telling me stress does all kinds of weird things to the body."

"It's one of the privileges of age," Admiral Bright grumbles. Clearly, it is not a privilege whatsoever. He'll never admit to eating too many hamburgers. Ever. He nibbles on the sliver of cookie he has. "I command a battleship, Miss Lin. 'Stress' is a way of life."

"O-Oh, don't mind me!" Rachel replies, lifting up her hand to wave back and forth. "Don't worry about it."

The way that she attacks her meal is like a tactical strike-- this white-haired girl is precise, she is direct, and she leaves almost no trace that there was anything ever on the plate. This is not to say that she's a messy eater, either... she's actually very clean, organized-- /military/.

Military, Bright.

When she finishes and takes to sipping from a space-sealed cup, the dusky-skinned pilot smiles at Bright all over again. "Maybe if we get the chance, we can have a vacation sometime. That's what Lat... w-what my friend suggested, when we met up the other day," she says, nodding. "I realize that we have a war going on, but you shouldn't be stressing yourself out all the time, Captain Bright."

"You don't seem that old." Lin comments, still giving the Admiral a bit of a puzzled expression, "But I think I understand." It's unlikely she ever commanded anything, otherwise she wouldn't be a nobody that thus far no one has reported missing. "Maybe a good meal now and again might make things easier, though." Why did that sound familiar? Something about the words. Hrm.

Lin looks once more at Rachel, then back at Bright, perhaps trying to guage the reaction to the other woman's suggestion. A vacation? The closest she'd had was St. Patrick's day, and that had been cut short by being 'rescued' by a Trailer so big he nearly fits the name.

Lin's mouth opens as if she might comment, but that's when one of the kitchen staff comes and taps her on the shoulder. There is a quick exchange of words, something about 'needing to clean up after the mess she made'. With a nod, Lin plucks up the cookie from her plate, "Alas, duty calls. Can't make good food without dealing with the consequences." There is a soft laugh as Lin gets to her feet. "Nice meeting you, Rachel. Maybe I'll stop by next time you're in the hangar." She gives a polite nod of her head to Bright as well. "Nice speaking to you again, Admiral." Then, shoving the cookie into her mouth, Lin makes back towards the kitchen, grabbing a few abandoned plates to take with her as she goes.

Macua Huitl says, "It can be sadly some times like that." She's back to RAchel for a moment and looks her friend over for a moment. "Oh speaking of that. It's funny I sometimes forver the concept exits honestly."