[h2]Supper With Shipmates - Part 3[/h2] [img]https://i.imgur.com/3hmyNZI.jpg[/img] JP/collab from [@wanderingwolf], [@Psych0Pomp], [@Aalakrys], [@Xandrya], [@Gunther]. [@Winters]. [@MK Blitzen], [@Yule], [@sail3695], and [color=ffd700]@LuckytheParrot[/color] “Engine room,” Abby piped up afore slicin’ salmon with her fork. “Should stay tolerable warm. Keep ‘im in his cage, cause they’s lots ‘o’ movin’.....MMMM!” Her eyes went wide as that first bite landed in her mouth. She give a gesture to Hook afore swallowin’. “This is gorram perfect,” she shook her head. “Wow, Hook! You done spectacklar!” “I second that, and this coming from someone who doesn’t make seafood her first pick.” Alana took another bite and after a few moments she addressed Abby, though in a lower tone. “I hope you’re feeling better? At least the appetite is there.” Abby downed a swallow of her drink. “Yes,” she give a nod an’ a smile to tha Doc. “Still a might sore an’ I’m movin’ slower’n molasses on New Kasmir, but I feel good enough tah head inta town.” Soon’s she said it, she thought better of blurtin’ that one out. “If’n yew say it’s shiny, that is.” “I’m afraid I’ll have to turn down that request, little lady. If you need something I can go ahead and fetch it for you as I’m heading out myself one last time, and I’d feel much better if you stayed put. Don’t want to risk it, ya know?” Alana smiled softly, serving up one last small batch of potatoes for herself. She was slightly obsessed with them, so she knew she would be making a request to Hook in the future. The patient’s face seemed tah fall ‘bout tha same as her shoulders slumped. “Yes’m” she answered tah Doc’s orders in a flat tone.. ‘Course it made sense an’ all, but…[i]aw hell,[/i] she finally conjured. [i]Doc spent yesterday diggin’ ‘round my backside. I gotta follow her advice, but...tha mission. Made that promise, too.[/i] All glum in her spirits, Abby speared a carrot an’ said “I do got a couple things I could use, if yah don’t mind.” Isaac trotted up the gangway and up the catwalks towards the galley. He could smell the cooking from the ramp and quickened his pace when he heard the deckhand's approval. That girl didn't seem to like [i]anything[/i], so it [i]had[/i] to be good. He popped his head in the galley doorway, ape hanging from the side frame. "Someone mention food?" He grinned as he bobbed his head to get a look at what was left. “Go on and help yourself Lo. Try to chew your food this time eh?” Mathias teased the youngest Skye. "Pssh! And waste valuable eating time?" Isaac scoffed, then was immediately distracted. "Ooh! Roasted potatoes!" He said excitedly as he made his way towards the end of the table where the tasty spuds rested, foregoing taking a seat. He snagged what appeared to be an unused fork and stabbed two prize pieces of potato to munch on where he stood. “I swear at some point he was taught manners … I think.” Mathias shook his head at his brother's antics. "Oh, so terribly sorry." The younger Skye responded with a piss poor imitation of a rich person's accent as he gave a little bow. "How was everyone's day?" He queried those gathered around the table. Without waiting for a response, something else caught his eye. "I love carrots!" Stab stab went the fork again as he continued noshing, now resting part of his weight with his free hand on the back of one of the chairs. Penelope giggled at the youngest sibling's enthusiasm. He was just so darn adorable. Between him and Abby, it made her feel quite homesick for her little brothers. Isaac reminded her of Pollux, so exuberant, while Abby was more like Castor in his more literal way of thinking. Hopefully, she'd get to see them soon, since Greenleaf was the next stop. “He likes your cooking a lot,” Cyd tried to explain apologetically, pulling out the chair next to her while tugging Isaac’s shirt so he’d at least sit. The kid was a cyclone sometimes! She was chomping at the bit to find out about his date, but it was Isaac. His mouth would be full for the next fifteen, twenty minutes easy. Abby seen firsthand that Little was settlin’ right inta life on a boat...boardin’ house reach an’ ever’thin’, but fer all her thinkin’ he coulda swiped food from her plate without her battin’ an eye. They’s the mission she promised. Any way she sliced it, hadta be her makin’ tha drop. [i]Think like a spy in them books. I gotta make that meetin’,[/i] she thunk, [i]Jest got scads harder, seein’s ever’ soul on this boat ‘cept that new passenger heard me gittin’ grounded.[/i] What was it Doc didn’t want ‘er to do? Carousin’, most like. No daincin’...but Abby weren’t a daincer, noways. Prob’ly no big walkin’ about’s tha big reason. But It’s fer true Doc didn’t mind her sittin’ down front all day, and she’d stuck to it...even when that rickshaw boy spent ten minutes starin’ at her legs an’ tryna ta sweet talk her inta a ride. Barely took no fer an answer… And that’s when tha idea come. She could keep both promises. Sorta. Cyd had a need to fill silence, if not with music, then at least with words. Having finished her salmon and potatoes, she took a sip of water before answering Issac’s question. “Day was kiff er… good,” She said in case anyone was unsure of [i]kiff.[/i] “Odds, ends. Getting the shuttle kitted out before launch. Captain Cal just let everyone know the next sixteen hours the ship will cut the heat, so it’s gonna get lank icy cold. Before we take off, if anyone hits up Pirate’s Cove, just a little advice, your head is larger than a cannonball, and it will get stuck,” she giggled and side-eyed Isaac. “The maintenance folk were lekker nice about it though, they say it happens all the time.” Isaac pointed at his sister with a potato skewered fork. "TOLD you other people had done it!" He said, looking quite proud of his dubious accomplishment. “Enough that they have a code for it,” Cyd agreed with another chuckle. "We've got a squib in Number 1." Isaac said in his mock officious voice as the siblings simultaneously mimicked the crewman's exasperated sigh and laughed. "Oh! And Castaways, right on the beach." Cyd added, stifling her giggles over Isaac’s antics. "For serious, you can have a rum and Pensa-Cola right on the sand by a bonfire. Luau every night, and a steel drum band that are madder good.” “Even better with a daga and good going chwee chweereekeys.” Mathias snickered between bites. “Either way, we learned that Issac is fond of sticking his head in random holes and one day, Lolo, there ain't going to be a code to pop you out.” “How’d the alley cat fare?” Cal asked from the head of the table, chopsticks hanging between his next bite. “These two mentioned you had some oats to sow,” with a smirk, Cal reached for a roll. Isaac looked like he was about to die of embarrassment from the Captain's directness. He gave a quick pleading look to his big mouth siblings for putting him in such a situation before turning back to Cal with a dopey grin, cheeks flushed. "Went fine, sir." He replied, trying to hide behind his fork. "Sarah's real nice. Wasn't too thrilled that I was leaving tomorrow, though." His expression flickered sad for a moment, then hopeful. "Any idea when we might be back this way...uh...sir?" “Always leave them wanting more; good job, kid.” Captain Strand interrogated his plate at Isaac’s question, “Maybe a month or two might see us back on planet, but not Pensacola. Next tuna season, maybe, long as things don’t go sideways tomorrow.” His expression didn’t mirror the boy’s hopeful eyes. Penelope glanced along the table down to Isaac, tilting her as she was to do when giving a suggestion in the form of reminder. "But we have a shuttle, no matter where we land next time." No sense in killing his dreams so quick, her glance back towards Cal said. Amused, of course - young love and attachment was cute, especially given the nature of what the Skyes signed on for. They were all vagabonds here, every one. She, having been more an observer than participant though, was done eating. Her mind was a bit more full of thoughts she was ready to get out, and looked like Cal was done enough as well. "Ready for that chat, Cap?" Cal dabbed his mouth with a ratty, cloth napkin, “Better to have loved and lost, they say,” he chided, pushing out from the table. His eyes met Penelope’s before standing and quitting their company for the bridge.