Angelika's eyes were streaming, the fumes from the ignited fuel making her alcohol-addled brain even less reliable, yet the squig was crisping nicely. The downy layer of... Fur? Feathers? Whatever it was had burned off, and the skin was starting to peel back, juice and grease running off from the flame-roasted creature. She nodded to Licintus, who set down the fuel tank, before letting the dribbling unignited promethium run off of the end. Now with the roaring out of her ears, she turned to whoever had been talking to her. 

[i]"...Trade you some for a handful?"[/i] She turned towards the voice and spotted a soldier from another regiment there. She looked down at the alcohol rations he was hopefully clutching, and she leaned down to check that they were legit. 
"Looks good. Get your regiment if you want, this thing is fucking huge, and apparently the boys have got some extra food in the back as well. WE ARE GONNA HAVE A FUCKING PARTY!" She shouted the last sentence, and the rest of the soldiers let out a cheer. A soldier had been fiddling with a vox-caster in the back let out a cry, and a pounding noise started up, the music echoing throughout the campsite. "The tech-heads are probably gonna hate this, but who the fuck cares? Let's get fucking [i]going[/i] boys!" he called, and the crowd let out another shout, the clinking of bottles joining in the noise.

She took another swig, only realising that the bottle was practically empty two seconds after she had raised it to her lips. A dribble of alcohol wetted her lips, and she scowled, before realising that the squig hadn't been cut up. She drew her combat knife from its leg holster, and a hush decended from the crowd as she approached the spitted creature. The first blow bounced off of the tough hide, and yet when she stuck it in again, it held. She dragged the blade down, the edge slicing through the hide, and she dug two fingers into the cut, pulling hard and tearing off a layer of skin and fat. She tossed it to the side and cut again, this time pulling out a hunk of crimson meat. She grinned and bit into it, the crowd cheering as she did so, knives and bayonets emerging from holsters and pockets. She took another few hunks, tossed one to the hopeful soldier, before calling out for him to "Gimmie those alcohol cards when you next see me, yeah?"

She sat down at one end of the camp and took in th sights. The khaki of the Cadians was everywhere, but it seemed like loads more regiments had come to the party. A squad of Elysian's were digging into the meat, and she spotted the red headband of a Catchcan soldier here and there. A thumping sound could be heard, and she watched as a brute of a Valhallan locked arms with a Cadian in an arm wrestle. She turned away as they struggled against eachother, and took a bite of the meat, a fresh bottle next to her. She fiddled in her pocket for a lho-stick, and held it between her teeth, before noticing a mumbling female soldier alone on the outskirts of the group, plamsa burns webbing across her face. She stood up and walked over to her, not recognising the uniform she wore, especially with that poncho over it.

"Hey, wher'e you..." She grabbed onto the girl's arm, then let go. "I'm sorry. I know how tough bionics are." She tapped the side of her eye and lightly took her arm again. "New, or old?"

[@agentmanatee]