Already choking on my pride [OPEN]

[hellshot]

WHO: Reaper hellshot and OPEN
WHERE: Within the Fleet, some automated cafeteria
WHEN: Various times within the month, whenever he needs to eat.
WHAT: Reaper needs nutrients, touchscreens aren't his friend.
WARNINGS: Possible mention of how horridly deformed he is under his mask. It's bad.


[Dark fingernails tap against the metal counter he's currently standing in front of. If he wasn't wearing a mask, it would be easy to see the look of frustration on Reaper's face with his current predicament, so for now, the only way of knowing that the ghost of a man is pissed off is the wisps of black fog escaping from under aforementioned mask.

He hadn't gone on the previous mission with Sombra, and he had no interest in rescue missions, either. Which meant he hadn't seen the field of battle in little over a month--which meant he hadn't been taking in new nutrients from his surroundings to keep his body from decaying to a point of discomfort. Which meant he had to partake in his least favourite of activities: Eating.

Eating was difficult enough when your face was barely suited for it--but when the cafeteria closest to his living quarters was a fully automated one? It was like a really bad joke. Touchscreens worked when pressure was applied with an electrical charge--human skin was a great conductor for said electrical charge. Dead flesh didn't hold any sort of charge. So this was his predicament. He couldn't eat if he couldn't get the damn screen to work.

Frustrated, Reaper finally turns his head to glare at the individual waiting for their turn after him. He hated asking for help, so instead:]

Work this damn thing for me and I'll pay for your food, too.

[He's too tired for this bullshit today.]

Comments

[angele]

[ For a second, when the man turns around she's almost certain she's going to be called out for staring.

She tried really hard not to. She's aware she's doing it. She's aware it's rude, too. But in all honesty, when you fight demons you don't stop to look at them too hard. And here there are more than just demons. There are aliens and just... people who look different even.

She was trying to piece together if Reaper was an alien or a human with something else going on or if he was even a real person and not a ghost when he turned on her. His question eases her worry, though, and she laughs a little nervously as she steps around him to approach the screen. ]

Sure! You don't have to pay for my food. [ She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ]

What were you trying to order?

[hellshot]

[He's strangely used to being stared at, honestly. People who look into the eyes of his mask, searching for something living or hoping it's not the last thing they see--he wouldn't call the girl out for it.

It's the comments on his appearance (or the strange smell of burning carbon that becomes apparent when you get too close) that he doesn't enjoy comments on. She keeps from it, for now, so when she moves forward to aid him, he lets out a low sound. Like a sigh of relief. Finally, someone who isn't an irritant about it.]

Something with protein in it. ...No empty calorie crap, like Americans eat. [I.E, order him a hamburger and he might have a problem.] The choices here are crap, but it's not like there's much option for anything else. [Space Cafeterias suck almost as much as the mess hall in SEP did.]

[angele]

[ She does have some social graces, at least. Which is not to actually bother someone about why they're so ghost-like....

Unless he offers. She wouldn't mind a good story.

In the meantime, she purses her lips in amusement at his request. He's from Earth it seems. Or there's enough Americans here that it's started to affect him. Either way, she flips through the menu, trying to find something to fit his needs. ]

A lot of good looking burgers... [ Is she teasing? With Clary, probably most definitely. ]

What about a grilled chicken sandwich? [ She looks back at him for approval. ] It looks pretty good, too.

[hellshot]

[A lot of good looking burgers. He gives her a low scoff, his shoulders rolling at the clear and obvious joke. Either she was used to dealing with creeps in masks, or she was making a joke to brush off the idea.

Either way, he won't be offering her a 'good story' yet, it seems, and he waves a hand at her.]

Good enough.

[A pause.]

Have you used this cafeteria before. [She's helping him out, so... he suddenly might feel a little inclined to warn her a bit about something half important.]

[angele]

I haven't been here yet. I'm still pretty new to this place. [ She answers as she selects his chicken sandwich. ] Any sides? [ She adds before she skips on to the next part. She somehow doubts he wants fries or chips... but he might like something else, after all. ]

[hellshot]

Then you deserve the warning that others don't usually get here.

[He speaks idly, as if he's discussing the weather with the girl, pointing out the feta and beet salad. Nutrients that chicken and bread won't supply.]

Food looks and even smells like food back home will.

Doesn't mean the taste is going to match up.

[angele]

[ She picks out the salad, trying not to wonder if the ghost is trying to watch his figure with how health conscious he seems to be.

When he brings up the taste, though, she pauses on the display to glance back at him. ]

How badly not match up?

I was thinking of getting burger since we keep mentioning them.... [ Maybe she should reconsider. ]

[hellshot]

[It's important to watch your waistline when you're a corpse.

But in reality, it's more or less just old habits that die hard.]

An associate of mine was here a few days back, ordered lasagna. She said it tasted more like alfredo. [He doesn't stifle a small laugh.]

Wouldn't be able to tell myself. Don't really taste anything anymore.

[angele]

Noted. Don't get the lasagna unless I want alfredo. [ She makes a slight face, but it's more a laugh than anything.

She selects a burger, still, with a side of fries. ] Hope this actually tastes like a burger... [ They've talked about it enough she really wants it now. Maybe just to feel a little bit more like normal.

As she starts to pay it out, she hopes this is a natural segue into just a little bit of prying.... ]

Is the taste thing because of the whole... whatever you've got going on? Or is it because you used to be a heavy smoker or something like that? [ Not that she actually thinks he used to be a heavy smoker, but it's a more normal reason for losing taste beyond being a.... okay is he actually dead or what? Ghost? Undead? Zombie? ]

[hellshot]

[He wouldn't be able to offer her anything about the burgers. He never touched the things--but maybe she'd get lucky and it'd just taste barbecued or something.

He tips his head down a little to look at her when she comments on his whole 'thing' going on, and the 'heavy smoker' comment actually making him laugh. And as he does so, black smoke actually seeps out from under his mask at the action, which would give her an answer to why he found that bit amusing.]

Could say I still am a heavy smoker. [Shitty humor.] But you'll find when you die, a lot of your body functions stop working properly, too.

I don't eat because I'm hungry. I eat because my body needs to absorb the nutrients it needs to keep from rotting.

[Don't lose your appetite.]