RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 4] A Pleasant Dinner

Serra looked about at the pincer maneuver that Tweak was utilizing, and realized she would be sniped by one or the other due to their separate distances.

"I surrender." Serra called out as she placed her gun on the barricade and stood with her arms raised. "If you must shoot for the points, please aim away from my hair or wings."

Claire was about to fire again at Lorcan... until he ran smack into the wall. She lowered her rifle in disbelief. She was too far away to hear whatever music was playing. She frowned and watched him run off, bleeding on the nice nanofloor... The hell? Claire's attention was drawn back to Ms Montreal. She definitely didn't look too happy. And some small part of her didn't blame her. She had just gotten jumped by a bipedal hyena and shot while she was down. She might offer her a few words once this was over...

And then she heard Serra announce her surrender. Already? They had barely traded any shots. Guess she figured she didn't want to face half the opposing team. Oh well. Even amongst all this Claire couldn't help but snicker slightly at her request to not shoot her face or wings. The face thing was agiven, she thought. That could hurt, paint or not. She didn't move from behind her cover yet though. She sighed and slumped against the improptu wall. Twas quite a workout, and a fun one at that. Still... she kind of wished Keziah had been here at the end.

Stovaa sat at the sidelines, continuously wiping paint off of him, small parts he'd missed before, watching the battle unfold on a security monitor, revelling in the often hilarious scenes that unfolded between the two teams of trained soldiers.

He managed to remain quiet for the duration of the match, not wanting to put anyone off or distract them. As soon as Lorcan had run into wall though, and the angel had surrendered, Stovaa shouted to his team and pounded the air with his fist.

Then realised that this meant the administrator would probably give them a really dangerous mission next.

Success?

A few minutes after the end of the match...

Cassefin stood at the head of her team, her shoulders slumped low in disappointment. Behind her stood Lenny, the large ID-SOL more distinguishable as a blue-team member than a red-team loser due to the massive amount of dye splattered across him. Lenny wasn't too much better; he looked exhausted but thoroughly happy, obviously having enjoyed the events greatly. Serra and Lycan stood relatively clean but equal in the teams failure as a whole. The five of them stood with the rest of the winning Blue team in the center of the recreation area, which had already been cleared of all of the Stainball field objects, returning to a blank slate of hardwood-patterned flooring.

Above on the balconies, many of the onlookers were cheering and applauding to both teams for an interesting show. Administrator Peke Twenty-Two was standing atop of Goat, throwing her little arms and balled fists into the air screaming at the top of her lungs. Somewhere along the line of the match, Administrator Purina Popjoy had also stopped by to witness the match and she as well was applauding to the winners. Guard Captain Abeck simply stood behind the railing on the first balcony, arms crossed and satisfied smile beaming down at Squad 35.

Cassefin grumbled as she removed the red-tinted goggles from her face. Remembering her position and place, however, she quickly cleared her throat and pulled up from her slouched position. The crowd quieted down at that point, with a few of them beginning to return to their previous agendas.

"Ahem. Well. Congratulations. I suppose my shooting cannot save an entire team."

Claire stretched a little, afterwords wrapping her arm around Keziah's waist as she dropped it. Seeing the administrators dissappointment, she smiled gently, "Ah, come on, dear. It was a good match and a fun workout. We should do things like this more often!" She then added in a less audible tone, only so the other blue team members could hear her. "Anybody else remember her earlier wager? Something about the losing team running laps naked, wasn't it?" Her smile changed into a mischievious grin.

Most of the paint was gone now, thanks to a long, long trip to the bathrooms. Just her hair now had thick, hardened clumps of red paint in them, but those, too, would eventually fall out, so she had stopped caring about it all. Her face just looked perpetually flushed, which worked well enough to hide the real flush as she leaned into Claire, just a little bit.

She was enjoying herself, even if she had been the first one from her team to get shot out. And she was certain she'd never live down that little surprised scream. And, and, and...

Keziah shut her mind up, but Claire's little reminder made that impossible.

"No..." she drawled, her face clearly showing the surprise at the notion, and just a hint of horror. "That'd just be bad. Lots of bad all around for all of us."

We...we won!

Tweak allowed herself a small smile as Serra surrendered, lowering the rifle she'd commandeered from George and turned, walking back across the floor to the Blue side, leaving the field of play to check on Dream. Then she saw the smear of red paint on her friend.

A stray shot? Her ever-helpful TacOp immediately reviewed the shot log, attributing every shot made with an origin and a target. All except for one that she had noticed at the very beginning of the game.

Tweak's dark red eyes turned to Cassifin, glaring at the administrator for a moment before leading the unexplainably silent Freespacer druidess to the nearest washroom to clean the paint off.

"Well played, Administrator. It was a fine display of shooting until you went out." Stovaa replied, flecks of paint remaining in his hair and catching the light every few seconds. His outfit had been brushed clean mostly, though his joints and similar nooks and crannies remained tinted.

His fists were at his sides, his elbows out in what was either an impressive pose of victory or a really bad version of the chicken dance. He flashed the onlookers a smile and then turned his head to Cassefin.

"Hey, there's Captain Abeck, on the first balcony! Uh, I believe there was a losing clause? Something about naked laps of the room?" He smirked a little, his mind a secret battle between the forces of smugness and the forces of common sense. Smugness was starting to win.

Jen stood silent, still wearing the stain balled Power Armour of her's. She seemed rather bored that the action was over, and not really looking forward to the future. Not really listening to the others, or the H.A. she appraised her teammates to what she could, Despite a lack of planning and just going at it, these guys were pretty good, the Nepleslian appraised her teammates.

She gave an awkward glance to the least human of the group though, That wolf like thing though, he can be pretty scary when he wants to be. Jumping on the H.A. like that, is almost like begging for a Court Marshal.

Serra had a sinking feeling who Cassifin would demand to do the humiliation laps. And the though made her hide behind Lenny.

Cassefin had not bothered cleaning off her special skin-tight uniform (mostly because while the rest of them were busy cleaning, she was throwing an enormous hissy-fit), leaving her uniform a mish-mash of red splotches, spatters and strips...although she did take the time to wipe off what little had landed on her face. As the winning Blue-Team members started mentioning the penalty laps, instead of the highly-anticipated fit of embarrassed rage many were expecting, Cassefin's expression was very placid...even a little confused. It was hard to tell if the confusion was genuine, however.

"Pardon? My team run laps around the room naked?" Cassefin asked, crossing her arms and tilting her head by a small amount. There was a short pause before a small volumetric screen appeared in front of her...a double-sided image, allowing both sides of the small group to watch the contents. It was a security recording of the moments before the match started...complete with an amplified recording of Cassefin's voice.

Cassefin Montreal said:

"Oh, hey...why don't we make this game a little more...interesting. Let's say that when you lose you have to, oh, I don't know...run a lap around the room naked. That'll put some spring in your steps."

Click to expand...

Cassefin closed the screen with a coy, sickeningly smug little smile. "I think you all got the wrong impression..."

No she didn't.

"I only stated what the terms for your loss would be. I waited for Dream to say what her wager was..."

No she didn't.

"...but since Dream didn't answer, I figured that you all decided that you just won't have one."

No she didn't.

"I suppose," Cassefin heaved out with a sigh, her smile fading a bit, "that since you all were able to defeat me...albeit with a little cheating, you all deserve some sort of reward." Cassefin shrugged her shoulders and placed her hand on her hip, giving them an inquisitive stare.

"So, what'll it be. And make it quick; I have a report to file and you all have a double-duty to report to."

Claire chuckled at Cassefin's hasted reasoning which was laughable by almost any standard. "Hon, Dream doesn't look well at all. Should you really be factoring her in? I mean, most just don't become paralyzed like that... Probably needs medical attention, wouldn't you think?" At least Claire was tactful enough to not point out Cassefin's cheating and subsequent trying to weasel her way out of it.

"And why not? Surely you aren't ashamed of yourself, are you? There's no need to be." Claire giggled slightly. "We're all friends here. Hell, don't even have to do the laps, I'd say." She was enjoying this more than the actual match it seemed.

"No..." she whispered to Claire, more than a little horrified. At the aftermath of the run, or at seeing all of them naked, it wasn't exactly clear. "That's the worst wager ever."

But now that the floor was open, in a way, to suggestions, what ran through her head was finally, finally getting her hands on a real kitchen system. She could feel those weird Bio snacks getting into all sorts of places they really shouldn't, and she desperately wanted to fix that. Reverse it. Whatever.

And to do that she needed real food. Hell, that just might boost morale, too, having some real cooking for once. She'd even volunteer to cook, clean, and maintain the setup for the entire team if it meant they'd get it.

"What about a kitchen and food stock for a few months, for all of us?" Keziah spoke just loud enough for the entire Blue team to hear. "I mean, why not take advantage of this?"

As she was washing the red paint from her friend, Tweak was on the verge of panic. Dream was moving, walking, but was otherwise staring blankly ahead. Tweak didn't know what to do. Vital signs were normal...electrical activity was higher than normal, but she didn't know if the massive amounts of cybernetics and foreign matter (the fungal and diatom life) was responsible for that.

Once finished, the disguised neko led the unresponsive druidess away from the atrium. Her journal said that Dream had a ship, a shuttle, right? Maybe something there could help out. Or, at the least, provide a familiar environment, maybe a little of that radiation that Freespacers seemed to need? With this in mind, Tweak steered Dream toward the shuttle bay.

"Anything huh?" wondered Jen to herself with her arms crossed. She had joined this little battle in part of hopefully getting transferred to a more exciting post, this would probably her only chance, assuming the H.A.'s wish includes her as well.

"A transfer to a more interesting post would be good for me," she simply stated so not to seem selfish, though she had the fingers of her left hand crossed under her elbow.

Jen said:

"A transfer to a more interesting post would be good for me," she simply stated so not to seem selfish, though she had the fingers of her left hand crossed under her elbow.

Click to expand...

"Done," Cassefin answered hastily.

Keziah said:

"What about a kitchen and food stock for a few months, for all of us?" Keziah spoke just loud enough for the entire Blue team to hear. "I mean, why not take advantage of this?"

Click to expand...

George and Lenny slowly started to nod along with Keziah's suggestion. George more than Lenny, seeing as the shorter Nepleslia fully understood the true value of the prize while his larger counterpart was simply nodding because George was.

"Yeeaaahh..." George spoke agreeably. "Some different food, that'd be pretty-"

"Absolutely out of the question," Cassefin stated firmly, crossing her arms. "I do not know why you would want to expose yourself to such unhealthy meals, but as a concerned boss I cannot allow such poisons to be consumed. Even if I did agree to it, there simply is no room for such an establishment on the Cirrus...my station is strapped for space as it is."

Cassefin paused for a moment, casting her stern gaze aside for a moment and crossing her arms in a contemplative manner. "...I suppose..." she continued in a whispered voice after heaving a heavy sigh. "I can allow each of you to have one meal of your choice. I suppose I could pencil the necessary ingredients to have it made once and only once in the import manifests." When Cassefin finished talking, she quickly glanced up along the balconies in an almost nervous fashion.

"That's my final offer."

Deacon stepped forward from the back of the pack, his body was shaking slightly as he had taxed himself to the very limits of his abilities.

"You said anything we could ask for. That right there shows you are not limiting it. You yourself told us that we could have whatever we wished for victory. This lady wants a kitchen and some real food to be cooked for your security staff. If you still wish to decline the offer, it would be a real tragedy if things should start to happen on your precious station. Experiments might start escaping with no one to round them up, secure sections might just happen to become non secure. After all, there is only so much that a security force can do when they feel their boss is taking advantage of a situation and not giving them the proper amounts of nutrients, including fats, salts, and sugars.

It makes no difference to me. There are tribes on Neo Kohana who are so poor they eat rotting flesh. I have done that, so little could upset my stomach, but a warm meal that doesn't come out of a machine would be nice on more than just one occasion."

He then knelt down into the squat that he seemed to take on a regular basis, a posture that really showed off how feral a Kohanian could look.

"Give the security staff its own fully stocked kitchen, because if those you trust to keep you safe aren't happy, there are no guarantees we'll be there when you need us. And that is MY final offer."

Claire folded her arms skeptically. "Dear, it's not poison. It's just food. You can still be healthy with regular food. It's all about moderation, y'know." She smirked slightly as she ran one hand down her own slim torso until resting her hand on her hip. "Down planetside, we had military rations to eat, which aren't the greatest. But you know what? The way you cook it makes so much difference. I'd be more than happy to prepare the meals for everyone. I never heard anyone complain about my meals, quite the contrary. And as you can see," She chuckled, "I am still quite healthy."

"I'm flattered that you care so much about our health, but truly... Eating a good meal every now and then is not going to lessen our performance. It may actually imrpove it." Claire paused then smiled. "If you like, I can show you a few secrets about cooking. You can impress your friends with it. Or someone that you like." She held a mirthful gaze towards Cassefin, seemingly to have already forgotten about the earlier bet. "As for no space, that's not true. We have room in and around our quarters. We'd just have to move some things around, that's all. Not a problem."

Figures. Anything not specifically designed, imagined, and engineered by Montreal was obviously poisonous food.

It fit everything else about her, at least.

But that's not what surprised her. What did, was the support. Deacon especially. She stared at the canine humanoid, half because of his thinly veiled threat, and half because she didn't expect him to actually stand up for them. For herself.

She'd need to re-evaluate him. Or thank him later, especially if this all works out.

"I'd help with the cooking, too, as well as the set-up and maintenance of the kitchen." Her eyes zipped to Claire, to Deacon, back to Montreal. "It would be more viable, and easier on you, than letting us eat whatever we want just one time."

Keziah bit back the snark in her voice. That wouldn't be a good thing to let slip, even if everyone else was doing it, in one way or another.

Serra peeked out from behind George, glad that humiliation was off the table.

"I... I could help installing the appliances." She offered.