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You head towards the Dining Facility.
Dining Facility
Contents:
Clara
Vendotron 3000
Obvious exits:
Atrium
You arrive from the Central Atrium.
Clara is at one of the tables towards the back, labcoat slung over the chair at
her side, and making her way absently through a plate of fettucine and some
veggies on the side with garlic bread. Happy carbs. She's also absently
scrawling through various reports.
Niko consults a datapad as he comes into the dining facility, scratching lightly at his budding beard. That datapad is tucked into a pocket, and he moves to claim a bowl of something orange--macaroni and cheese, it seems--and a beverage. Ah, but now he must find a place to sit. And lo, he pads over to the seat opposite yours. "Hey, how're you doing?" he inquires, with a grin.
Clara peers at her paperwork for a moment as if astonished that it's talking,
then blinks up at you and develops a grin despite the dark circles still
under her eyes. At least they're not bloodshot? "Hey you, grab a chair," she
suggests, flipping the report closed and setting it to one side. "I'm alive
at least. Still have the rest of your ouzo, too. Should I send it on up to
your place?"
Niko nods amiably as he folds himself into a chair. "Sure, yeah, or I can come
get it." He digs in to the macaroni, then. "Mm, they've got spirals on them,"
he notes, peering curiously at the ridged surface of the pasta. "Weird.
Yesterday was entertaining."
Clara pauses in her own lunch to peer at yours, somewhat nonplussed. "Spirals?
Huh, the cooks must be getting creative, then." She nods amiably then,
reaching for salt to attack her veggies a bit. "Coming by is good too. If
it's another late night for Ela, I'll throw dinner at you even." She pauses
at the final statement and grins slightly, eyes on her plate. "Yesterday
was...interesting?" She looks up then. "Thanks, Niko. It was a lot of fun,
actually."
And once again, the rumors fly. ;)
"Definitely fun," Niko agrees, with a grin. "It's been a while since I've done
that, and the last time was with Ela." More fodder for the rumormongers. "I'd
rather you didn't -throw- dinner at me, though. That would annoy the folks in
laundry, after all."
"And goodness knows you and Riley have irritated laundry enough, what with various adventures with pudding," Clara agrees with a quiet laugh, twirling pasta around her fork. "Okay, then, no throwing food. Unless I drink that much again, then it might be tempting. How about I just toss something in the way of lasagna together? Goes in the oven, nothing catches on fire."
Niko nods amiably. "Will I get smacked if I bring a fire extinguisher anyway?"
he queries.
Clara tries to suppress a laugh and fails miserably, waggling her fork
threateningly. "Actually, it's probably a good idea," she decides, giving up
on threatening. "How're you feeling today?"
Niko tips a hand back and forth. "Little rocky when I woke up, but I'm fine
now." He continues with the macaroni-munching, adding, "You? Sometimes that
stuff can hit hard, after all. And I don't quite remember how much you
drank." He snickers quietly. "For that matter, I don't quite remember how
much -I- drank, but hey."
"We finished off about half the bottle, probably matched drink for drink,"
Clara muses thoughtfully, reaching for her iced tea almost like a talisman.
"Mental note...do -not- mix rum and ouzo, or it's near relatives. I woke up
with gnomes tapdancing in my skull." She pauses for a moment, then grins. "It
was worth it, I think."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Niko grimaces fractionally at that. "See, I was hoping that wouldn't happen," he comments. "But at least you can heal yourself. And now you know not to do that again. Next time maybe trying it with the water would be the way to go."
"Mm-hmm. A couple of hypos and breakfast, and I was fine," Clara explains
almost sheepishly, spearing at a bit of broccoli. "Next time?" She looks up
with lifted brows and a slight grin. "You'd want to do that again? I'm all
for that...although next time maybe I should just avoid the Hellenic stuff
and stick with Jamaican."
Niko ponders that for a moment, then shrugs. "Enh, maybe. It'd be a shame for
the rest of that stuff to go to waste, though it'd be fine for a while. And
drinking alone is a really bad thing."
"Several good points there. It really was good, even if not real." Clara
fiddles with the garlic bread for a moment, thoughtfuly. "I wonder what it is
about drinking that it's lousy if you're alone, but if you're with a friend
it can be a lot of fun?" She shakes her head and shrugs. "Amendment, a friend
you can trust."
Niko blinks, scratching idly at his pseudo-beard as he inquires, "Not real? What wasn't real?" He nods rather ruefully at that last point, though he says, "No clue why it makes such a difference. But having trustworthy friends is key. Makes you less likely to get painted bizarre colors."
"Oooh, rainbow hair dye," Clara breathes, giving your hair a vastly mischievous look. "There's a thought. Yeah, c'mon over and we'll finish that bottle," she adds in her best evil villian voice, then snickers. "The ouzo...you mentioned it was something else? I'm afraid I don't remember quite what..."
Niko lifts a hand to cover his hair. "You are -not- dyeing my hair," he
decides. "Nor are you shaving weird things into my beard, which is what Kath
threatened." Shaking his head, he returns to his downing of macaroni. "I
think it was xima," he replies, "Though sometimes it's hard to tell. There
are a couple of things that folks just kind of dump into the 'ouzo' category.
I know it -wasn't- ouzo, though."
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Clara assures with a laugh, well pleased with the
reaction. Sometimes just the threat of the practical joke is more fun than
the joke itself. In this case, most definitely. "Nor will I shave odd things
in your beard. I happen to like it. And I liked the whatever it was last
night. It wasn't harsh like a lot of liquors are."
Niko nods his agreement as he polishes off the last of the macaroni. "Just call
it xima," he suggests, with a grin. "That's close enough." He peers into the
now-empty bowl, and shakes his head. "That means," he says, "That I need to
get back upstairs, after I collect some food. The folks upstairs gave me a
list."
"Close enough for horseshoes and hand grenades, sure," Clara agrees, then grins
wryly. "Got stuck on KP duty, huh? Lucky you," she points out. "I'll be
headed up as soon as I finish this myself, actually. Give...um, tell everyone
hello for me, will you?"
Niko nods as he gets to his feet and tugs that datapad from his pocket, juggling it with his dishes. "Will do, sure," he replies amiably. He starts for the dish-disposal location, then calls over his shoulder, "Oh, hey, I keep forgetting. I can play the piano now. Isn't that nifty?"
Clara swallows her final bite of pasta rapidly to keep from coughing, peering over her shoulder, then turning fully in her chair to lift her brows. "You can? Have you been taking lessons?" she wonders, obviously delighted.
Niko shakes his head firmly as he disposes of the dishes. "Nope. No lessons at all, those are scary. I just popped into the music store while I was wandering around the quarter the other day. What I meant was that I could, if I wanted. The fingers work well enough, see. So that annoying therapy worked."
"Fantastic!" Clara enthuses, climbing to her feet to take her own dishes over
for disposal, all except for the travel cup of iced tea. "And the therapy
-does- work. Until we're sure it's permanent, though, I'd like you to get
your arm scanned once a month though? We can bypass further zap sessions
unless necessary."
Niko wrinkles his nose as he snags a tray and starts to collect various
portable foodstuffs. "Uh, define scan, please? Not that obnoxious thing with
the pain test? I didn't like that, not one bit."
Clara taps at the scanner on her belt, the one that is probably her most often used and best loved instrument, grinning. "Scanned," she explains. "I've done it to you a million times, I think. Not painful in the slightest."
Niko relaxes a bit as he snags a cup of butterscotch pudding, among other stuff. Yes, he's going to court death yet again. "Okay, I can deal with that. I'd best get upstairs, though, before Kath comes down in search of her food."
Clara waves a hand, then heads back to collect her own reports. "Shoo, before
the wrath of Kath descendeth. Have a good afternoon, Niko," she suggests,
then heads towards the second floor herself.
Clara heads towards the Central Atrium.
Clara has left.
Niko collects a bit more food, then heads stairwards, calling a farewell.
[Travelspam to Security deleted.]
Niko passes around food to various folks, then, holding only the tray with the butterscotch pudding, pads over to knock on the door. He thinks he's very clever. He's forgotten that the monitors may be accessed from within.
The light by the door shifts to a cheerful green.
Niko opens the door and puts down the tray, using a handy nudge of his foot to send said tray scooting into the room. He has learned. Of course, he -does- remain by the open door, the better to see the reaction.
There's a pause. Not a very -long- one, mind, and then the pudding comes flying
back out the open door, whizzing Niko-wards.
Niko was expecting this, mind, but maybe not quite in such haste, so his duck
does not -quite- get him low enough. Snickering, he wipes a bit of pudding
from his face with one hand. My, pudding and hair is a festive combination.
"So you're not hungry, then?" he inquires.
There's a decided snicker, and a called, "Not for butterscotch. Besides, I'm
doing Ela a favor."
Niko can't really argue with that, and doesn't even try. He just grins,
starting to close the door. "There's other food out here. Give one of us a
poke or something if you want some."
Riley's voice replies through the door before it closes, "Thanks Nick, will do."
Niko, naturally, endures much taunting from Kathlyn about how he just did what
he did for an excuse to go home early. "It's not like I'm not coming -back-,"
he retorts, though he's still snickering as he heads unto the exit. "And
before you say anything, Ela's probably at work this time of day." Of course,
that doesn't stop Kathlyn from saying quite a lot, and woohooing, and
offering to call Ela home from work.
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
You head towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.