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RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 4] A Pleasant Dinner

Serra cupped her face in her hand as she softly giggled at the charactically over dramatic antics of Cassifin Montreal. The Head Administrator invited the entire squad to dinner solely to try and court another Squad's captain. The sheer folly of the act, and the fated outcome was just too much and she giggled harder, her hand sliding off her mouth th rest just above her breast while her eyes were shut tight as she laughed, her closed eyes watering as she fought for air between fits of laugher.
 
"...Hee.." Claire was biting her own tongue as well. This girl tried too hard, and went about the most inefficient way to get what she wanted. She took a couple steps back in the hopes that perhaps she was too busy eyeballing her salad to see her fighting her own laughter. It was starting to become a losing battle though.

She felt like saying something more just to further the point of irony, but she didn't. In truth, Claire almost felt bad for the woman. She figured that the rest of this squad thought this was at the point of hilarity, seeing as how she normally treated her subordinates. But... she sort of understood what Cassefin was trying to do, even if it was the wrong way to go about it. Perhaps later she would speak to her. For now though, it was best to just not say anything and let the rest of the squad speak the amusing outcome of this 'dinner'.
 
It was quite hard to stifle laughter sometimes, now was one of those times. From the start to the finish, Stovaa was biting his lip as Cassefin's manner evaporated in a loud roar. By the time she had sat down and grasped at the bowl of salad, he had moved onto biting his finger, digging deep into the flesh in an attempt not to be seen as openly mocking his new boss.

His finger started to turn white as he prayed for the laughter to stop trying to vent itself.

This, truly, was the Cassefin Montreal he'd heard about back at camp. It was oddly reassuring in a way, though he felt sure dinner would be uncomfortable and held no hope for conversation.

He removed his finger from his mouth, massaging it to get the feeling back. "Time to get sat down, I suppose..." he said, quietly. The room was quiet, aside from the chuckling of other team members, an uneasy almost-silence that hung in the air disturbingly. He waited until a few of the other people sat down before he'd sit down, not wanting to be the first down at the table.
 
For her part, Keziah stayed silent, even as the heels skipped past her, barely inches from her boots. Perfectly so, she closed the book in the middle of Cassefin's roar of frustration and replaced it exactly on the bookshelf she had gotten it from. Now that their boss had sat down for dinner, she felt inclined to do the same, and walked towards it, noticing for the first time the food.

And, at that, she had to hold back a bark of laughter. It was easy, coughing as she sat down towards the middle of the table, smoothing out her tunic, her sleeves, before reaching out and taking a few pieces of the bread. It wasn't bad--from the smell alone she knew it was exponentially better than the stuff they've been eating for the past days--just she had expected... more. A lot more. With so much pomp in the room, the food felt very out-of-place.

A middle class dinner masquerading as a queen's feast.

Still, none of that was evident on her face as she silently ladeled out a bowl of soup for everyone, emptying one of the larger bowls in the process.
 
After her reverie, Serra also sat down near Kaz and straightened her face and clothes out as she accepted the bowl of soup.

"Now that the evening entertainment is over with..."
 
Claire wasn't sure if everyone should be sitting after that display, but she felt compelled to follow her newest friend and sat on the other side of Kaz. She didn't touch the food however. Something odd about it bothered her all of the sudden.

Claire did say in a quiet voice, however, "I take it she's about as naive as she is self-appreciating, hm?" This was directed at Keziah primarily, but it was also open to reply by anyone that had managed to hear her whisper. Now that what seemed to be Cassefin's purpose for doing this entire thing was not going to show, how was it supposed to go from here?
 
Keziah grinned at Claire in such a way that only the two of them would know about it, and she shrugged slightly, before picking up her spoon. "I think you hit it right on the nose," she whispered back, taking some of the soup into her mouth.
 
Oddly enough, Dream was probably the only one who didn't laugh. Her face had "serious business" written all over it as she watched Cassefin throw her fit.

In all truth, she probably didn't understand what happened.

"...oi, Real. Did you want to see Win that badly?" She asked, with all the tact and subtlety of a steamroller being dropped from thirty meters of height directly on the table.
 
Cassefin, whom had been largely ignoring anything other than slowly chewing her salad, suddenly stopped and rolled her eyes back at Dream's question. With a groaning sigh, she replaced the bowl back onto the table and sat back upright in the comfortable cushioned seat.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, Captain," the Administrator said venomously, raising her hand to gently massage her temples. When she spoke to the group again, it was in a calmer, almost defeated tone. "...well, you all are already here, you might as well sit down and eat something."
 
Dream was still looking a bit worried by Cassefin's behaviour, sending her suspicious eyeglances while munching on a leaf of salad.

"...Real, you're the headmaster here. If you have a problem, it impacts on the whole team's performance. I just want to help." She said, honestly and straightforwardly.

She still didn't get how complex could relationships be among non-freespacers.
 
The slightly surreal conversation between Dream and Cassefin rang through Stovaa's ears, alarm bells ringing. He'd seen catfights break out over slighter comments than these, though they were often between slightly intoxicated individuals back on Nepleslia, he'd always assumed on the "perfect" Cirrus Station, built and crewed just as the head administrator had wanted, such things didn't happen. He felt for an instant like he was about to be proved wrong.

He stepped up to the table and sat at one end, as far from the potential powder keg he saw brewing as he could without leaving the table.

He tried to ignore it and looked around at the other team members while attempting to spoon the soup into his mouth, committing their names and faces to memory.
 
Cassefin pawed idly at her salad while the rest of the team took their seats, some of them serving themselves portions of the soup while others didn't take anything at all. Cassefin looked at them, disgruntled...why bother showing up for a dinner invitation and not eat?

The soup itself wasn't bad at all, save for being somewhat bland. It was a vegetable soup, no doubt, as not a trace of meaty taste was present in the blend. Still, it was hot food that not many aboard the Cirrus could partake of.

"Well? What are you waiting for, a written invitation to eat? Because I can go get one, if you really need it," Cassefin said sarcastically. "You might as well eat something, I can guarantee that unless your squad continues it...slightly above par performance, you won't be seeing anything else but my wonderful vending machines."

Cassefin herself reached out and took one of the hamburgers in the centermost platter, and anxiously awaited to see if her motivational speech did its job to whet their appetites.
 
And yet, Claire still didn't touch the food.

Something was obviously wrong now. She was refusing to eat despite what she had said earlier about it. Claire slinked back in her chair, hoping that Cassefin wouldn't notice her hesitance to eat. She looked over at Keziah, "I'm not really that hungry anyway..." Her voice was almost a whisper. She glanced at her palm, running a finger over the symbol carved into it.

Claire looked away and over at Dream getting on the administrator's nerves. She couldn't help but smirk a little. Their personalities clashed in more than one way, and she was suprised hostilities hadn't erupted from them. (Well, it would likely be one-sided from Cassefin, but yes.)
 
"You're not missing much." Keziah said this from the corner of her mouth, spooning up bits of cooked vegetables. The broth and, well, everything about the soup was bland and in desperate need of salt. She could've done far better with just a repurposed plasma torch, some toilet water, and some carrots.

Probably. Maybe with a dash of arrogance.

"Though you should eat something." She glanced over to Claire, just the catch the woman's odd scar on her palm, her unconscious stroking. Then it was gone and Keziah's eyes flashed upwards, watching where Claire looked. "Don't want to tick her off."
 
Claire smliled a little bit when told she wasn't missing much. But then again, Keziah probably never had to eat the horribly uninspired rations they were fed day after day down planetside. Just thinking about it made her slightly queasy.

When told that she should eat, she froze again. Staring at the food with... a hint of fear? Something was all too familiar about this to her. And it was almost paralyzing her. "...No." A plain, simple, but unmistakable refusal. She wasn't going to eat, the administrator's anger at her be damned.
 
Cassefin's eye twitched slightly behind her obtuse smile, obviously trying its best to maintain itself on the Head Administrators face as she glared across the table. "Not hungry, huh?" She said, a venomous tone hidden under a sheet of false sincerity. "Fine, you don't have to eat anything. I certainly won't force you, oh no, never. You all can just starve."

It was hard to gauge just what Cassefin was thinking when she surveyed her failing dinner party. She barely touched her own food at that point; it was obvious there were other things on her mind than this meal. Cassefin finally groaned a sighed and let her head fall backward over the top of the chair, hair spilling over it like a red tide.

"Gaaah...why is this so damn hard..."
 
"Because if it was easy, it wouldn't be worth doing." His mind whirred, thinking for something to follow on with to try and make a better impression, another nugget of wisdom.

Today wasn't his day for thoughts of an intellectual nature. "Anyone mind if I take a burger?"
 
Cassefin immediately jolted forward so quickly that her ponytail flew straight over her head and bounced off of her face...which had turned from aggravated and bored to attentive and genuinely happy.

"Yes! Yes you may, you may take one of those burgers!" Cassefin said, wide-eyed and wholly interested in everything Stovaa was doing.
 
Deacon remained exactly where he was standing from when he had walked in on the dinner party, standing at ease, and just watching the others enjoy their dinner. His keen ears picked up on all of the administrator's words, and he replied softly.

"Ma'am, no respect is meant, but I think I will not partake in this dinner, but I wonder if it would be wise to insinuate that you would wish to starve us, the people tasked with keeping this station running safely. Would the Elite team like to find out that you are trying to kill off their support?"

The Kohanian's expression didn't change, and he just stood staring at the food with his paws clasped behind his back, eyes glancing back towards the door, and then scanning over the room, every few moments...Ever on guard detail, even in this supposedly sacred sanctum.
 
The Head Administrator took a short moment away from her attentive staring at Stovaa to throw a disparaging look over the rim of her spectacles.

"Look, you either eat or you don't. Either way, I had to arrange this dinner for you guys, so its a take it or leave it scenario for me. I would...prefer it, however, if you all would eat. I don't *do* leftovers."
 
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