truth_is_cold

085

[Public | Audio]

I'm going to need extra help on the dinner shift for a few days until Ben is prepared to assist me again. I don't care who.

[And that's the extent of that message. He's guessing if anyone wants to speak with him, they will. And if they don't, they hopefully just got tired of this place and left.]

[Private to Dylan | Audio]

Did you make it out alright?

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I made it. Blonsky, too. On a scale of one to ten, one being a day where the most dangerous thing that happens is Beka trying to cook, and ten being a full blown Magog invasion...I'd say it was a seven.

Are you okay?

I'm fine.

[And that's pretty much all he says. No rating or anything else. He just cuts the feed. Stressful situations sometimes still bring out the jerk in Gaheris.]

[Dylan assumes that the phrase "I'm fine" means "Something terrible happened" fifty percent of the time. So he goes to knock on Rhade's door to make sure that he really is fine.]

[Depending on how long Dylan actually waits, it takes Rhade a while to answer. When he does, he's wiping off his hands. He actually isn't terribly roughed up- it could be much worse.

His "I'm fine," in this case, is almost a self-reprimand for not being able to adequately protect his inmate.]

[Dylan is patient. Especially when it comes to verifying that Rhade is still not dead. When he opens the door, Dylan breaths a sigh of relief.]

Hey.

[And now he feels a little awkward for banging on his friend's door now that its clear that he's definitely neither dead nor dying.]

I'm glad you're okay.

I am.

[He thinks back to those tiny, childish figures. He couldn't even kill the same child soldier that Dylan had to. But he can recognize that he's being a dick.]

I'm glad you are, too.

[He considers inviting him in, instead looks torn for a couple of moments before he steps out of his room and locks the door instead.

There's another attempt to say something. It apparently fails, as well. So he just doesn't add onto it and starts for the stairwell. He might as well go do extra work in the kitchen.]

Can I help? [Because she doesn't like moping, it scares her.]

Absolutely. I'll try to show you a few new recipes while we're at it. [Learning/teaching = the best way to distract yourself.]

[She has basically lived by this. Although she usually learns more violent things.]

Should I come by now?

Yes. I'll be here.

[He's not even going to ask what happened or what she saw.]

[That is why he's a bro. She won't even make him wait long, because distractions really are all she's looking for.]

[He's grateful that she's there when she arrives. He has spent the last few days murdering shadows that looked entirely too much like children. It was unsettling.

He has most of the ingredients out and ready. He's speedily chopping some vegetables and wishing they had an android on staff, slightly. But he's still fast.

[When she's there, he kicks up a wooden crate for her to stand on.] Is there anything you absolutely don't want to be near? [He means food wise- there are sometimes negative reminders associated with food, and they've had more than enough negative reminders for one month.]

[She steps up on the crate, looking curiously at the vegetables he's cutting, and shrugs.]

No, not really. [Then she thinks better, and makes a face.] No acorns.

No acorns, then. I don't think we have any at the moment, anyway.

[He smiles at her a little, though.] Alright. How about some sweets, then. We might want to have more available than usual, because people have been living off rations for a few days. [He dumps the vegetables into a boiling pot]

[She watches him work, leaning as far over on her crate as she can to eye the pot.]

...Can we make lemon tarts?

Absolutely. [He goes over to a box of recipe cards, which is oddly antique for him but he supposes it works for the mixed environment of the Barge.]

Do you have any foods at home that you haven't seen here?

[There are plenty of things she hasn't seen exactly, but she has to reach far back and wrack her brain for the things she used to eat at Winterfell. It feels so distant, now.]

And we make venison pies?

We have recipes for meat pies. I'm certain I can convince Riddick to bring us some fresh venison.

[And he puts down the recipe card for the lemon tarts beside of her, so she can see the ingredients, too. It doesn't help to teach if they can't be a part of every step of the process.]

I'll get what we need for the filling and you can help me get what we need for the crust.

[She leans up on the counter, using her arms to hold herself up on its edge as she studies the recipe. She'd watched Hot Pie work in Harrenhal, but her help had been very limited. She still remembers the sweet smells from the kitchen, though.]

Okay. [She turns to look around, off to root through what she can to look for what the recipe calls for.]

Is the admiral going to throw a fit if I help? Because I could get demoted if you need.

[Joking.
Grumpy joking.]

There aren't exactly a lot of people tripping over each other to help.

I promised Anya something particular for dinner anyway, if I accidentally make enough for everyone it shouldn't be an issue.

[Oh, there's a much needed snort.] And then Richard B. Riddick accidentally fed over a hundred people.

Woops.

[He gives his most delicate, elegant-handed shrug.]

Gosh, I just lost track of the time.

By the way, Arya was mentioning she had venison pies at home. Do you think you can bring in a deer in time for dinner tomorrow?

[Because thank god the CES is back to normal.]

You don't have to twist my arm on that one. I'll go out for it as soon as the breakfast shift is over.

[Painstakingly earnest. Ben hates that he's been sidelined.]

I'll be back as soon as I can, sir.

You lay in bed and you rest.

[Goddammit Ben.]

I am.

[Kind of.]

I already feel much better. Three days, at the outside estimate.

Right now it's not your responsibility. If there are perfectly healthy people not assisting me while you are injured, then it's their fault. You're under no pressure to return and it's up to them to show some initiative if they want adequate food. If they don't, they can subsist off sandwiches.

Don't worry about it or count down time. Just rest until you feel better.

[And now, appropriately chastised.]

Sir.

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