[color=silver][h1][center]Mi Galley es Su Galley Part 1[/center][/h1][/color]
[color=white][center][b]Lunar Veil | Galley[/b][/center][/color]
[color=silver][center]Summary[/center][/color]
[color=silver][center][i]Kinneas finally comes out of his room, shares a drink and a game of tall card with Tim.[/i][/center][/color]
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[cell][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5360056][img] https://i.imgur.com/1mmb9CW.png[/img][/url][/center][/cell]
[cell][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5360257][img] https://i.imgur.com/xbzDd3i.png[/img][/url][/center][/cell]
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OOC: JP between [@MK Blitzen], [@Aalakrys]

Once he managed to force himself to eat the unappetizing lot, which was sadly easier than it should have been given he hadn’t eaten since the apple, Kinneas actually did take the dishes to the sink in the galley to wash and put away, along with the other mug if it was still around. 

“Heyyy,” Tim said lazily, a lopsided grin crossing his face as the new guy stepped in the galley. He made a show of sniffing the air near his own armpit. “Do I offend?” 

"You're wondering why I didn't choose to demean myself further?" Kinneas' brow lifted as he turned on the spout to rinse off the dish, his eyes going to the task rather than engaging. 

Tim sniffed again, deciding a shower wouldn’t hurt, his skin was in the need of a good moisturizing anyway, the air in the black was so dry. “Sorry?” The pilot asked, a slight rim planet accent lilt in his voice. “Demean yourself?  With dinner, or with me? Just know in advance one of them answers is likely to hurt my feelings some.” Confusion crossed his brow, but his expression was more bemused than bewildered or begrudging.  

Kinneas gave the pilot a blank look for a moment, then tilted his head slightly in consideration before shrugging a shoulder. “I don’t make a habit of sharing a meal with people who send invitations following a death threat. Sense of self-preservation and all.”

“I didn’t have a death threat scheduled, but I could probably pencil one in, I’m free up tomorrow morning,” Tim quipped, checking an imaginary schedule. “Come, sit. You play?” He took a deck of cards from the cargo pocket of his pants, slapping it face down on the table. “Name your game.”

Kinneas flicked the water off the plate once, glancing over at the table to see what the guy was talking about before looking where the plate was supposed to go. Cards. That got a hint of a smirk as the dish clinked into place on a drying rack. He dried his hands off and went around to join the pilot, against his better judgment. “You said something about tall card earlier. Guess it wouldn’t hurt to play a few. Though, if you plan on wagering your chores, I can’t promise me losing on purpose would save you since I’m getting off at the satellite stop.”

“It’s okay,” Tim replied, sliding the deck to the center of the table. He tapped the top card twice for Kinneas to cut the deck. “I don’t have to be a better player than you, I just have to be better than someone else. So what’s your play?”

"You don't think I have options?" Kinneas asked as he leaned back into the chair and reached out to cut the deck. "I have friends. Could get a fake ID and finally achieve my dream of becoming a companion. Not a bad gig, a lot more pleasurable."

“Male companion,” Tim said, bobbing his head to the side while giving it some thought. “I see it. Could be a lucrative career path for you, you’ve got the look, but you’re a little mature to start training with the guild, I think they start ‘em young. They’ll go an’ try an’ black list you, but Inamorato has a certain ring to it.”  He took the cards back to thoughtfully shuffle them. “Course, face like that people are bound to remember.” He dealt out the first hand of tall card, “but most likely no one’ll be interested in any sorta reward interpol is offering, so ‘least that’s in your favor.”
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