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RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 4] A Pleasant Dinner

"Okay okay, that's enough." Called out Dream, voice a bit louder than there was any need to, tapping her foot hard on the ground impatiently.

She was a bit ahead than everyone else but she had stopped and, apparently, heard everything. She spun, turning around with a dramatic gesture, pointing her right finger at the group.

"Deacon, Serra, Stove. You three just shut up for Saga's sake."

She was angry.

Well, seeing Dream angry was something that didn't happen often.

Her finger shifted to point to Stovaa.
"Stove. We have only one mascot here, and it's Flower. I'll introduce him to you later. Until then, I want to make clear. Deacon is NOT a mascot. Serra is NOT a mascot. NO ONE HERE is a mascot and you should just stop saying so. If you're trying to socialize, well try to do so without making fun of people. If you're trying to pick fights... don't. You're making people angry. You're making ME angry."

Point to Deacon.
"Deacon. You got issues, you talk with me. You don't verbally assault team-mates, no matter how much do you think they deserve it. Is that clear?"

Point to Serra.

"Serra. Stove is in our team now. Lenny and George did their job back then, and they deserve a medal just for putting up with Real. I'm not terribly satisfied with their performance either, but they tried, and they were in good faith. If you got problems with them, you talk with me about it. You don't badmouth people like that. Especially not people in our same team."

Pulls back finger, crosses arms.

"You know, from where I come, when someone can't figure out how to work in a team, we thrown him in a meatgrinder and we find someone who CAN work in a team to take his place. And I'm pretty sure there are some Grinders in the Cirrus."

She sighed heavily, and pulled off a smile over her scowling face.

"After dinner, I want you three in my Shrine. The rest of the team can come or not as they wish, but you have problems, and problems are to be solved in a civilized manner."

She turned her back to them. "Now come on, dinner's waiting."
 
The Kohanian stopped in his tracks as the Spacer finger was levelled at him. His golden eyes went wide, jaw slack, and when it was all over, that snarl returned.

"I'll wait for you there, then. If you are going to get upset at me for standing up for myself, I guess then I am ready for the grinder. In fact, why don't you go enjoy your dinner, and I will pack my things to get ready for the trip. I cannot stand this enviroment any longer. People allowed to bad mouth their team or only take command only when they feel they will benefit most from doing so. No, I will go back to my own people and face the punishment of being a traitor and a deserter before I sit down and dine with two faced braggards."

The hyena male reached up and tore off his SMoDIN pullover, threw it at Dreams feet, and turned to head back to the barracks. It was obvious that with the Spacer Commander getting upset, it only pushed the Kohanian that much further. True to his word, he would be packing up his stuff, and be on the next shuttle off Cirrus, to wherever he ended up.
 
The 'Spacer neko was quiet for the walk, mostly out of having nothing to say. She could hear very well, though, and heard everything, sorting through the different conversations to keep her mind busy while the group made their way to the dinner.

At first she thought Deacon was merely grumpy, one of those days where you just couldn't help but feel down. But the more he said, the more she began to think there was something more to his mood. Tweak thought it over for a moment after the Kohanian turned to leave, then tapped Dream on the shoulder.

"I need to talk with Deacon. Do you think it would be okay if I followed him? I'll only be a little late," she whispered in Dream's ear.
 
Dream sighed heavily and shook her shoulders, picking up what was left of the pullover.

"You can go if you want." She said to Tweak. "But he's right. If he intends to keep that attitude, we're far better off without him."
 
"Hey, lady, if you got a problem, don't take it out on us...we didn't get to choose where we went," George started to defend himself before Dream did it for him. And then Deacon started making a scene and taking off. "Uh, I'll go too," George added quickly, rushing up to meet Tweak before she was able to take off. "Guy got riled for stickin' up for me an' Lenny, I owe him one."

George shot his ID-SOL cohort a glance and a pointing finger. "Lenny, I'll be back in a sec. You stick with Mami, Mima...her 'till I get back, yagawdit?"

"I got it George."

---

"Mister Deacon, please wait!" Mimi said hurriedly, her image instantly fading from the front of the line and reappearing in the back. "Mister Deacon!" Mimi called one last time, futilely, before releasing a sigh of discontent. When it became apparent that Deacon was not going to turn around, Mimi whirled around, cheeks puffed in some sort of display of anger that only one of Mimi's 'unique' personality could fail so miserably at.

"You all should not fight with each other so much!" Mimi started, looking near on the verge of throwing a child's hissy fit. "Miss Cassefin is trying very hard to reward you all, and...and you all don't even care! You just want to fight. That's not right! Why do you need to be so mean to each other?!"
 
Lorcan heaved a sigh and stepped away from the two girls, Yep, Mr.Invisible. He watched them fight and did nothing, yelling and screaming, kicking and biting and then Deacon left, George right behind him, Stova was still being stupid, Dream was having a breakdown, Mimi was loosing her cool. This place had fallen to shambles, Lorcan almost wishing he was back in his shabby little room with his former gang. at least they had some sort of hierarchy. Here it was a sort of conflict between coped up city boys, different minded free spacers and hardcore military men[and women]. Coupled with the way Cassifin was treating them, it was grounds for disaster.

After a minute Lorcan sighed and then offered helpfully from the side lines "Mimi, You can't expect anything less. Neppies, Konoians, Elysians and Free spacers don't mix, especially when thrown together in that shitty ass barracks Cass gave us. You've got a bunch of stressed out, pissed off males with Insufficient means of stress relief, you're bound to have fights to let off some steam. There is no physical hierarchy among this group, only psychological and that can only go so far. You throw all these space limitations, physical and psychological factors together and you get pure hell and chaos. Now if you'll excuse me I have dinner to eat, hell if I'm going to pass it up."

That had possibly been the most Lorcan had ever said at any one time, he turned and stalked off in the direction they'd been heading, planning on eating something edible even if it killed him to do so. He couldn't stand their fighting either, there was little point to it. Of course he doubted he'd be heard because he was officially Mr.Invisible... Which he didn't want to be, but nobody seemed to want to get to know him...
 
They're right. This team does seem like it's falling apart. I wonder if it's always been like this.

Tweak gave George a look like she'd prefer it if he didn't follow her, but she couldn't give a reason why he shouldn't so she didn't say anything. She caught up with the Kohanian a couple dozen paces from where the squad had halted, out of earshot of everyone except possibly George.

"Mr. Deacon! I'm...I'm sorry everyone's fighting. I think they have been that way since we got here." She fell into step beside him, eyes on the ground except for momentary glances at his face. "I just wanted to say, I know kinda how you feel. It's not easy having no one who understands you to talk with." The 'spacer looked up at him. "You don't have any friends here, do you?"
 
Claire frowned as she watched the fighting unfold. She admitted that the last ordeal was a bit stressing, but she didn't think all this hostility came from that. Aside from the new guy who had no tact whatsoever. She wasn't sure what the deal was there.

Claire turned to Keziah, "Is... this normal?" She hoped not. If it was, then one had to wonder how they ever managed to stay together this long. The stories she'd heard of Cassefin didn't help her impression of this place being a recipe for madness.

She watched Lorcan stalk off and a confused expression came to her. "What's his problem? Did I say something?" She closed her mouth and bit her lip as she listened to him get on Mimi's case. She hadn't expected an overly friendly environment or anything, but this wasn't very encouraging when she considered she was probably going to be here for a while.
 
Deacon didn't slow down at all when Tweak joined him on his trek back to the barracks, and he hadn't noticed George following as well. When the Freespacer spoke to him, he didn't even look over to her.

"No, and what is worse is the fact that no one is trying to understand and use the strengths of the rest of the team. We are told to be like bugs running into a window. Just keep throwing yourself against the glass, and SURELY one of those times you will succeed in getting through. Forget the fact that there might be another window, or a door, open someplace else. This is how things are to be."

He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

"Such is life, though. I do not belong, and as your friend said, you would be better without me. After all, you had just as much chance to save the Administrator as I did. You probably would have been the better choice anyway what with your..."

He slowly brought his hands up to point at his ears, speaking at a volume only himself and Tweak could hear.

"You know."

By this time they had reached the door of the barracks, and as it slid open, the Kohanian moved through it to his bunk, which he hopped up to and began stuffing his things back into the two duffels he had brought, stopping only when both were nearly fully loaded. He was about to put the last item in, a green jade case eight inches by one foot. Setting the case on the bed, he shook his head and began to raise the lid, which slid off and filled the area with the smell of rosemary, sage, and lilac. With a smile, he pulled the contents out, a pan flute, and began to softly blow over it, playing a slow, enchanting tune. All around him, the station faded as he played, losing himself to the melody.
 
A deep, slow sign emanated from the newest soldier's mouth.

"Senses of humour are optional I take it. No, forget I said that, I'll just keep it zipped for now" he said, making a zipping motion across his mouth. A few teething problems, he told himself, I'm sure it'll pass soon...

Deep down, he doubted it would. A nagging doubt, one that would sit on his metaphorical shoulder and crow that it had told him so.

He folded his arms and tried to lose himself in thought, not responding to questions as to why he was even there, though his opinion burned to be told, released like a dove from a cage. However, he'd already done enough, so decided just to shut up before anyone else quit the army.
 
"Normal?"

Keziah raised one eyebrow at that. The drama, the utter lack of discipline, the blatant insubordination. That was normal, for this group at least.

"There's really no basis for normal here." She gave Claire a look that was, at once, amused and comforting. She had grown quickly accustomed to it all, to the rapid changes in roster, changes in command, the way everyone's mood seemed to see-saw back and forth between functional and dysfunctional.

She followed Claire's eyes, watched Lorcan for a moment, then returned to the other woman. "It's not you, really. He just..." she stopped speaking, then frowned, searching for the right word. "He just wants things his own way. Goodness knows what that way is, though." She remembered the first night on the station, Lorcan's borderline treason, his borderline violent assault.

All of it spoke of a man unwilling to bend to the rules of anyone else.

So she shrugged, and looked to Claire, her eyes grinning. "Either you'll get used to how fluid everything is, or you'll scramble for the next shuttle out of here."
 
Claire gave one of those laughs that said that she wasn't sure what she was thinking when she spoke. "I guess normal is a word that shouldn't be uttered here at all." It would take her some getting used to. But she didn't think she was too rigid towards change.

"I'm sure I'll be just like the rest of you before the end of the month. This seems like such a fun place to lose one's mind." For the notion of going crazy in a place where the leader was a complete control freak, she certaintly didn't sound too worried.

As she listened to Keziah's explanation, she nodded her head. "I see. Well, maybe I can cheer him up later?" She smiled in an odd way. "We all have our days, I'm sure." Claire was certaintly very easygoing. She cared enough for others that weren't full of themselves, but she didn't take those that were very seriously.

"Oh I think I'll get used to it in time. I don't think I'd want to leave. Even with all the arguing that may happen from time to time, It's still way better than my last post. Down there, you had to pretty much do everything that you possibly could think of to break the monotony." Claire grinned at Keziah. "Here, even though I think your administrator has control issues, I doubt it's anywhere near as boring." She paused then shook her head. "And besides, I wouldn't want to just dump my newfound friends and leave."
 
"You can't force people who have no interest in teamwork to work as a team." Said Dream, to no one in particular and at the same time to everyone who voiced doubt or dissent.

"What you CAN do is to take those that WANT to work in a team. Take those that have the goodwill, the patience and the self-sacrifice. Those that TRY. And forge them until they are one."

She stares in front of her. "People coming and going and arguing and leaving slamming the door in the first days are normal. It's adjustment."

She walked forward. To dinner, damnit.
 
Mimi cast a longing gaze across the squads faces for a long, silent moment. She looked sad; her eyes, always eager to meet another pair, did not find another this time. When the Savtech finally landed her glance on the squad leader, she crossed her arms in front of her and cast her eyes aside. Mimi spoke, in a quiet voice barely above a murmur, to nobody in particular; perhaps just to herself, amidst her squad.

"...everyone can get along. Nobody has to be angry. We just have to try..."

Mimi let herself stand for a moment longer before trotting to catch up to Dream. The lone Savtech was still very much intent on delivering her team to their just rewards.

---

George, at first, seemed very happy to be chasing after Deacon with Tweak, evident by the smarmy smirk he had as he exchanged silent glances as the two exchanged words. However, George was expecting the Kohanian to listen to the lady...and instead got the opposite; if Deacon was just pulling his leg, he was doing a fantastic job, even going so far as to refuse Tweak.

"Hey, guy-" George started as Deacon pulled out his instrument. The flute was...different. Not an instrument that George, or for that matter MOST Nepleslians, would have ever seen. The Nepleslian stopped his advance and just listened for a moment, turning back to Tweak as if looking for an answer. Fortunately, he found one.

Without a word, George quickly scrambled over to his bunk and kicked open the small footlocker at the foot of the bedpost. After a second or two of rummaging, George returned holding a faded brass harmonica, the scuffs and nicks revealing many years of use. He sat on the bunk directly across from Deacon, holding the small metal instrument up and shooting a relaxed smile at the Kohanian from across the small gap.

"Got room for a brass seat, slim?"
 
"That's good to hear," she smiled back at Claire.

Inwardly, however, she was processing what she had said. Or, rather, exactly what she didn't say. Keziah knew her experiences with sex, her understanding of the whole thing, was flawed. Ruined, rather. Aside from Mako...

"We need more level heads here, anyway. It gets lonely sometimes." A quiet laugh. "It's not bad, really, once you get down to it all. We always seem to get the interesting assignments anyways. So boredom? No, none of that, really. No time for it to set in."
 
Deacon heard George's words, but did not immediately respond to him. He was lost in whatever world the notes of his song took him to. Soon though, probably about a minute and a half after the gentleman asked his question, the gold gaze of the Kohanian came back into focus and he stared at the instrument.

"I see no signs around this place saying that it is not allowed for a fellow musician to join in a little song. By all means, Sir, if you wish to join, go right ahead."

He smiled to Tweak as well, not the same smile as any time before, but sort of a smirk, a knowing expression.

"I'm sorry, Lady Tweak. But surely you understand what I am going through, and the feelings that I feel about the rest of our team. I was raised to be taught certain things about how a warrior is to operate on, and off, the battlefield, and so far, I have found none of our squad to follow any of them. They rush blindly into battles, hoping that things will turn out for the better..."

He began to play again, the tune a little darker, akin to the finer Celtic dirges, conjuring images in the hyena male's head of his homeland on a springtime morning. Emerald hills spotted with color from wildflowers but hidden in a deep damp fog, the air crisp and clean. He stopped a few moments in.

"Perhaps Dream is right. Perhaps I am just unable to co-exist with the rest of them. Perhaps it is my fault that we are unable to work together on a night that we should all be in high spirits..."

He drifted back to his song, eyes gleaming in the low light as he watched George, unfamiliar with the sound that would come from the odd metal thing in his hands.
 
So he did know. And it didn't look like Deacon was going to say anything, which allowed Tweak to relax a little. Now she could focus on what was bothering him.

She followed him to the barracks but just stood in the door as he packed. It wasn't until Deacon and George were performing their "song" that she spoke up.

"Did you know nearly half the squad are engineers, not soldiers?" asked Tweak, looking up at the Kohanian hyena. "I'm one of them. This team is far from whatever elite security you might have imagined when you got here; I hear that the only reason this team exists is because the government is forcing Headmaster Real to have one.

"In the end, though, I think Dream is only half right: if you keep this attitude that, because this squad is a buch of misfits, they are hopeless and they'll never see your worth so it means you can't work with us, then yeah, you don't belong here. But," Tweak furrowed her forehead for emphasis, "I also think that you can change that if you put something into this. We can't work together to your standards, okay....most of us aren't standard military. Ask Dream or Mimi to let you set up a training of some sort in the off-duty time. But if you want people to look at what you can do instead of what you are, show them. And don't expect them to see it right off." She watched him a moment to see if anything she had said was having any effect. Then she turned to go back to the group. As much as she would have preferred to stay in the barracks (especially since it was now vacant) she told Dream she would be back. As Tweak started walking, she said one more thing before leaving the doorway.

"And you are wrong. My journal says that you helped me with the distraction and you carried Real while I covered you. If you weren't there, I would have been overrun. Thank you for your help, and for keeping your word."
 
The rest of the team were talking, but Stovaa wasn't listening really, his mind a blur of activity. He was only here because he'd been ordered to, not especially fond of getting rewards for things he hadn't done, and certainly not from his new boss. He always preferred the sanctity of a bar and a full glass between tasks, though that was certainly not to be had here. He'd tried one of the drinks Cassefin had insituted on the station, considering it somewhere between water and barrel wash in terms of taste, though he really disliked water and didn't mind barrel wash, so it wasn't really that bad.

"So, has anyone got any idea what we're actually having for 'dinner?'" he said, surprising even himself, to no-one in particular.

His confidence was failing. These weren't hardened criminals and warriors, they were a collection of soldiers and engineers from half the galaxy, either paired up happily or at odds with one another. He got the feeling he'd be the odd one out for quite a while, the only barbarian in this group of peaceful people. Feeling alone never really bothered him, he'd been alone for quite a long time, but feeling an outcast was something new.

He wasn't sure he liked it.
 
"I'm sure it's something very delicious!" Mimi chimed in at Stovaa's query. The Savtech was beginning to brighten back up as she led the squad upwards from the grimy lower decks of the Central Station, through the Grand Atrium in all its splendor, and an elevator or two upwards into the private quarters and administration offices, where Cassefin Montreal called home.

---

George played his instrument keenly enough, although the two sounds weren't usually in the same orchestra. He stopped long enough to let Tweak finish before she left before turning back to Deacon.

"I wouldn't let what they say get to ya, slim," George said, quickly slipping his harmonica into his jacket. "If you get all bent outta shape over what other people say? Then you'll just be miffed your whole life. Me an' the big guy I'm with get in a lotta scraps...but we don't let it get to us."

George stood up and brushed himself off a bit. "You do what you know ya gotta do, and don't give an ear to them others...that's how I've lived my life, and look at me. I'm pretty set, yeah?" The Nepleslian finished with a smirk and gave the Kohanian a nod.

"Good luck to ya, either way slim."

George dashed out to door to catch up with Tweak.
 
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