Pie Or Death
Pie Or Death
Summary: The pie draws a crowd out to Briny Bob's on the Charybdis.
Date: MD046
Related Logs: None

Charybdis - Briny Bob's

Thea, bags in hand, follows Roubani to the cafe', looking around curiously as she goes. Apparently she hadn't made it this far at all. "This looks like my kind of place," she murmurs, glancing between booth and stool. "Where shall we sit?"

Roubani's face is back to normal colour by the time they get to the cafe. "Table there, perhaps." He gestures with his pencil to one that's out of the way of most of the crowd. Less noisy.

Nine arrives from the Shopping Promenade.
Nine has arrived.

Careful of her skirt, Thea slides herself, and her bags, into one side of the booth. "It seems to be nicely relaxed in here. A real…well, real person kind of restaurant. Have you eaten here before," she asks Roubani, either trying to gently pull him out of his shyness or make him comfortable. There's a moment's hesitation as she considers him, then she reaches out for the salt shaker and slides it over with an all-too-innocent look on her face.

Eddie has arrived.

"Once," Roubani sets the sketchbook on the table, folding his hands. He's quiet as Thea slides the little shaker over towards him, then puns blandly, "This is assault, sir."

Pike arrives from the Shopping Promenade.
Pike has arrived.

Nine moves across the restaurant floor, more quietly than one would think possible in a pair of boots like hers, not workboots, but a pair of her own. The black pencil has found a home between braided roundlets of hair at the side of her head, and she hugs her new sketchbook to her. Maybe she heard the offer of an invitation being discussed across the garden. Maybe she's just stalking Roubani. Both are valid hypotheses.

Legacy is seated at a booth, across from Roubani, back to the door, seemingly relaxed. There's a salt shaker in front of the Ensign. "And your foot is the deadly weapon," she deadpans back at him, eyes twinkling, just a bit. "I could pepper you with more, but that would be cruel and unusual punishment."

Well, if the pie is the best in the universe, then it must be true. Otherwise it would be false advertise them right? Eddie seems to get drawn in with the promise, and it helps that she recognizes some faces through the window. The little bell above the door tinkles when she pushes through it, and she immediately thrusts her hands in the pockets of her fatigue bottoms. No cute trendy punkish outfit tonight, just straight off the Battlestar viper jock. Plus a cigarette.

Roubani sighs, but it's a touch too dramatic to be real. "Just deserts. Speaking of which, are you really a fan of pie, sir? It's supposed to be the blueberry that's good." He's sitting with Legacy at a table by a greasy window, a sketchbook lying on the table by his arm. Both of them are in civilian clothes.

Pike makes her way into the place, clad in her fatigues and sort of on her own at the moment. She takes a solitary seat at one of the smaller tables, shrugging off her outer shirt and laying it across the shirt's back.

Just say hello. Saying hello isn't going to hurt anything. "H'lo," Nine's mouth sort of rushes over the word as she turns up, quite out of nowhere, by the table of the bee-stung man and the woman in the sundress. Wait. What's she supposed to say next? "I don't know if you remember me." There. That's a good offering to the Gods of Polite Conversation.

"I'm definitely a fan of pie," Thea tells Roubani, nodding. She was about to say something else, then turns to look up at Nine. The smile widens, invitingly. "Please join us, Petty Officer. We weren't sure if you were busy in the garden, which is why we didn't invite you earlier." And then Thea catches sight of the other two and laughs softly. "Looks like the Kharon party is here in the Cafe', hmmm?" A hand is lifted to Eddie and Pike even as she slides further along the banquette, moving her bags to the floor at her feet to make room for the others.

Eddie leans over to the counter, stubbing out her cigarette in a convenient ashtray that's already brimming with butts. She simply walks right past Nine on her way to Roubani and Legacy's table, exhaling smoke as she walks like an engine chugging down the track. "Scootch." She tells the only male in this equation, apparently meaning to sit next to him. "I got stood up. Can you frakkin believe that?"

Roubani scootches. A little farther than necessary, but it ensures he won't be accidentally bumped into. "That's awful," he tells Eddie, sympathetically. "Stood up by whom?" He looks at Thea and then up at Nine. "Hello, Petty Officer. There's going to be pie. Would you care for some?"

Pike catches sight of Thea and rises from her seat, grabbing her shirt and slinging it over one shoulder before heading that direction. "'Evening, all."

Nine half-stumbles out of the way as a freight train threatens to run her down, but she recovers herself soon enough and offers up a quiet smile to Thea, cradling her drafting book in one arm as she reaches behind her with the other to flip up the short tails of her jacket and settle beside Thea. "Oh, I was just— you know," she looks down to her new book. "It's new. Came for a song," she adds, as if Thea might care. "I like pie," she tells Roubani, then, since he asked. "Drawing," she finishes her sentence, if rather schismatically, to Thea.

Eddie says flatly as she oozes down into the seat next to Roubani. No elbow rubs or knee bumps. She's actually mindful of how she oozes, but she also doesn't stop until she's good and well near half underneath the table. The top of her head barely crowns over the back of the seat, which is a feat for a woman who's five foot seven. "Guido. So not that awful in the grand scheme of things I suppose. Pie?" She looks to Nine for a moment. "Oh frak, did I totally just gank your seat?" Not that she seems apologetic or about to move.

Thea makes plenty of room for everyone to join at the table. "I know I want pie. And that sucks, Buns. Whoever it was was an idiot. Do we need to do introductions or get name tags?"

Roubani watches Eddie slump, keeping his hands folded on the table. "Guido. Yes, that sounds…tragic." A glance up as Pike joins them. "Evening, sir. Are you here for pie as well?" A waitress in the shortest dress on Kobol heads up towards the expanding table, pausing between Thea and Roubani. The Ensign turns his head and, practically coming face to face with the hem of her skirt, promptly turns red and looks away again, clearing his throat. She gives him a weird look, then looks at the table expectantly for orders.

Pike slides a chair out and seats herself as the call for introductions is made. She grins bashfully at Roubani's question. "Always up for a good slice of pie, me." The bashfulness continues as she realizes she may be the seniormost person here. "Arielle Pike," she replies.

Nine leans forward a little but to try to keep track of the woman across the table as she tries to disappear under the table. "No?" she replies, sounding uncertain, then she distracts herself with the hem of the waitress' skirt, which is, after all, awfully short. Or should she say tall? How is it that taller skirts are lower to the ground than shorter skirts? She doesn't quite notice that as these thoughts consume her she's staring at the waitress' bared thighs. Finally she looks up to the waitress' face, instead. "Pie," she tells the waitress, since she seems to be waiting on an answer. She's a helpful one, she is.

Eddie holds up a finger. "Ensign Eddie Buns Mooner Morales." Because her callsign apparently depends on the season or the time of day. She's trying to play off being stood up, of course, but her body language and general frown belies something different. She turns to the waitress, uncaring of how short the woman's skirt is. Maybe she's not Eddies' type. "A pie. One whole frakkin pie. And a pot of coffee." Is she ordering for the table, or just herself?

"Blueberry pie for me," Thea tells the waitress, seemingly oblivious to the skirt. "And two forks?" She looks to Roubani for affirmation. "And coffee." Then it's the process of introductions. "Captain Althea Legacy, Black Cat," she tells the table.

The waitress seems to be chewing gum, which she pops noisily. "Pie and buncha plates, got it. Couple pots of coffee." She scribbles something on her pad that looks more like doodling than words. "Comin right up."

Roubani doesn't say a word to the waitress, still a touch red by the time she sashays away. Eddie's 'intro' almost makes him smile at his hands, and he finally looks back up. "Ensign Nadiv Roubani," he offers, plainly. Then he looks at Nine. "Your name is Pie?" Probably teasing. Maybe. Hard to tell.

Pike pauses for a bit of an eyeblink at the hem-length (or lack thereof) the waitress is sporting. She then blinks once and returns her attention to the group.

Nine looks back down to her sketchbook after the waitress gets the message that pie is requisite. It takes her a moment before she looks back up to the bee-stung— err. Roubani, now that he's given his name. His question to her leaves her a little bit confused. "… w. What?" she asks. "No. Nine," she corrects herself. "Not quite up to Pi's reputation, I guess."

"Anyone opposed to me stabbing the skank if she comes back popping her gum?" Eddie's tone is dry and positively flat. There's possibly a real bite behind that bark. Or in the very least, Eddie's going to tip badly. Take that, diner trash! As she awaits her pie and coffee, dark gaze focuses on Nine, if for no other reason than she opposes her in their table positions.

"Buns? No stabbing," Thea says simply, smile wry. "No shanking, no stabbing, no spiking, kicking or hitting. You're on a low-steel diet from here on out." A pause. "No shooting, either. Though Shalt Not Molest Our Waitress. Gum popping or no." She grins as the rest of the intros go around, though she does pay attention to Nine's.

Pike grins sidelong to Eddie. "Just as well. Didn't bring my bag and not exactly in the mood to suture a stab wound with butcher's twine and a meat thermometer."

"I'm sure she didn't mean it," Roubani says to Eddie, without conviction. "Cheer up now, Morales. What could Guido possibly have on blueberry pie?" He slides his menu away and adds as an afterthought, "You don't actually need to answer that, mind you."

Wait. Is that a smile? Nope, must just be a trick of the lighting. "You guys are positively ruining my fun." Eddie declares, feet pressing into the cheap linoleum and she sits up a bit higher in the booth. 'There. Better?' is the look she gives Roubani. She almost looks ready to quip about the great Guido versus Pie debate, in fact, you can see it just /eating/ away at her. But she keeps it canned.

Nine slips her sketchbook down to her lap, then unzips her knapsack to tuck it away inside. "Keeping all those circles round… 's a lot of responsibility. The only place my circles are round is in the middle." She zips shut her knapsack and draws it into her lap, looking to the doctor, then. "You can do that?" she wonders.

"You can torture Roubani," Thea comments absently. "Not the waitress. No tormenting the civilians. They don't like it and will spit in our coffee." Then her head cants as she listens to Pike and Nine, eyes twinkling.

Pike locks eyes with Nine and smiles. "Back in my days working in a civilian E.R. plagued with budget cuts, I found myself having to get creative once or twice."

Roubani's brows draw as he watches Pike, loosely folding his arms. "Isn't that terribly…unsanitary, sir?"

Eddie doesn't seem to have any interest in torturing Roubani which is sort of odd in itself. As the waitress approaches to plop down plates forks and empty mugs, Eddie leans back out of the way. "The twine I get. The meat thermometer…not so much." The viper jock says blandly. The waitress retreats with a quizzical look about the conversation, going to fetch the pie and the carafe of coffee.

"Is a meat thermometer like a person thermometer?" Nine seems confused. "I'd think that'd… kind of hurt to sew someone closed with. Though at the doctor's they always keep the thermometers very clean. I'd suppose you could clean a meat thermometer, too."

Poor Thea, she just settles back in her seat and closes her mouth, keeping her lips tightly shut. She's behaving herself. For once.

Pike smiles to Roubani. "Not so much usually. That's why you have to boil them first." The wry grin on her face suggests she's exaggerating, but she maintains the straightness of her expression otherwise.

Roubani still looks stricken, giving Pike an uncertain look. One can be sure this Ensign's cutting down his doctor's visits now. It's right then the waitress comes back with their plates and a load of pie, along with two full pots of coffee and cups. She's popping her gum. POP. POP.

Kai arrives from the Shopping Promenade.
Kai has arrived.

Oh look. A fork. Its handy and pointy and just perfect to stab right in that Waitress' eye. Eddie slaps a hand down on the table, fingers curling around it's handle and going to far as to making the mock-lunge.

Nine's eyes widen as she watches Eddie across the table grab that fork and lunge with it, holding her knapsack against herself and pasting herself to the back of her seat.

Pike gives Eddie the stern-doctor stare. Or the superior officer stare. Pretty much the same death-glare, just named differently per occasion.

Roubani just watches Eddie mildly, hands staying primly folded. He remarks to Pike, "I apologise, sir. She hasn't had her shots."

And then you have the Table Mommy, Thea, who's wearing her civvies. She's actually in a -dress-. "MORALES," she barks. "Ass. Seat. Fork down. Now." Yep, someone has morphed into drill instructor mode. "There are a few birds that need the nuts and bolts scrubbed with a toothbrush, to my knowledge." Her tone gentles a little. "Please eat your pie, Morales."

Eddie narrows her eyes at the poor waitress, but she eases back down into her seat. "I'm just really frakking excited about pie." She says through gritted teeth. But at least there's no bloodshed. Yet.

Did someone order Kai? No, wait, that was Pie. Nobody orders Kai, unless they don't mind a healthy serving of party pooper. The Captain's in his civilian duds this evening: faded blue jeans that have seen better days, and a long sleeved t-shirt tucked underneath the bulky bomber jacket that accompanies him on every shore leave. Hands in his pockets, he enters with a ka-thunk of boot heels and pauses by the entrance to visually scavenge for a seat.

Pike serves herself up a slice, silently pleased she isn't going to have knife wounds to treat, and pours herself a coffee. "Come to mama," Arielle says to the dessert soon to be devoured.

Roubani gently rubs the end of his nose with the side of his index finger. -Very- gently, so it doesn't torture the broken bone, but he has to hide the faint smile somehow. He clears his throat quietly, watching people dig into pie, and his eyes flicker towards the door and the incoming Kai. "Captain Marek's here."

Nine exhales, some short while after Morales settles down again, and she looks to the pie, but waits for the officers to serve themselves, first, not eager to buck caste.

Legacy looks over at Kai, an expression of "Thank God you're here," which telegraphs mildly. She lifts a hand in a wave then turns to start dishing up the pie. Roubani gets a slice, then Nine. It's almost as if she's trying to make the PO feel a little more comfortable. Eddie gets the last slice and A Look. "There will be no bloodshed while we're having pie, Morales. Civilians are not snack food, gum or no gum."

Eddie rolls her shoulders, as if trying to ease some of the tension out of her frame. Then calm as can be, and as if nothing happened, she turns to Roubani to ask simply. "Pass the sugar?" Hmm? Eyes swivel back to Legacy. "I'm trying to watch my figure." Clearly meaning civilian snacks and not pie, as she's dragging her plate towards her with a quick, "Thanks." Maybe its Kai that's the ice water on Eddie's temper.

Roubani picks up the little split container that has sugar packets on one side and carcinogenic fake sugar on the other. He pushes it gently towards Eddie with his fingertips and then picks up his fork in his left hand, folding his black-clad right arm on the table. With the fork tines he coaxes a single blueberry out of pie and onto a tine.

Pike grins a little at the pilots' antics and digs into her pie, just as everyone makes note of Kai's entrance. Arielle gives him a quick over the shoulder glance, then returns to her repast.

It's a moment or three before Kai actually wanders over to the table. Maybe enough time to wipe the smile off his face at seeing his pilots cajoling and having a good time, or maybe he was having second thoughts about approaching, period. The distinctive cadence of his bootfalls can be heard rounding toward their booth eventually though, and he makes a bid for what free seating there may be. "Thanks for babysitting, Althea," is murmured to Legacy. Pike receives a polite nod, though he refrains from tacking on a 'sir'. Barely.

Legacy just sighs quietly and shakes her head, trying to keep from grinning. "At least it's not a bar," she tells Kai. "Poor Rubix would be killing himself trying to pull the rest of us down."

Eddie selects four packets of sugar out of the caddy, giving them a shake before ripping them open and tipping them into her cup of coffee. On the ship, she drinks it black. Shore leave is apparently occasion for developing a cavity. "Marek, king of patty cake. Just in time for pie." A gaze flicks to Legacy at that comment, then to Roubani.

Roubani slides the fork into his mouth, upside down. The single blueberry's chewed on with a careful slowness that seems to take up almost all his attention for a while. Then he withdraws the tines and settles them against the pie crust. He says absolutely nothing to Legacy's comment, carving a small forkful out of the crust with some fruit juice mingled in.

Nine thanks Legacy quietly but heartfully for the pie, and uses her fork to tidy the edges of the slice, eating tumbling fruit and then scooting over so that the Captain will have a place to sit, scooting her plate after her, and then her cup, still empty. It makes her get a little cozier with Legacy, but she tries to maintain some semblance of personal space.

Better cozy with Legacy, than cozy with Kai. The viper jockey looks to be having not the best of evenings; there's grease under his fingernails and a quiet protest of his stomach when he sees the pie spilling its gooey guts in various plates. Twisting onto one hip, he jams a hand into his jeans pocket to start hunting for cubits. "Haven't seen you dressed up so nice in years," he comments across to the raptor Captain, eyes on the change he's trying to sift apart from pocket lint, rather than the woman herself.

Legacy slides her plate toward Kai along with one of the spare forks, silently offering to share her food. A pilot. Sharing. Who'd have thought? "So, Buns, did you get in any shopping while you were here?" There's a rustle of bags under the table as Thea shifts. Kai gets a grin, followed by a somewhat guilty look.

Pike grins and dips her head to glance below the tabletop. "Scored quite the haul there." Arielle takes another bite.

Eddie is making very short work of her pie. While others are making this into a religious experience, Eddie's view of pie is the same as going to Chapel. Shorter the sweeter. If her fork were a shovel, it wouldn't get to her mouth any faster. "Mm. Liquor store. Tobacco depot. Whore alley." That's her shopping list apparently. "You alright?" She asks aside to Roubani, before dragging a napkin down her face. A sip of coffee accompanies a similar rooting around in her pocket like Kai.

Nine pares down one side of the pie, and then the other, getting the slice into an equilateral triangle, then she picks what's left up by the crust, supporting it fron underneath with two fingers as she bites a blueberry from the goo at the tip facing her.

Roubani hears Eddie's 'laundry list' while a bite of pie is in his mouth, and he almost coughs on it. He gets a napkin in front of his face before it gets too dire, wiping the corners of his mouth. "I'm fine." Albeit red-eared. "I do hope that if you purchased souvenirs that it wasn't at all three places."

Kai spills his change on the table regardless, enough to pay for said slice of blueberry pie. Which he indulges in after a brief hesitation, and a murmured thanks to Legacy. No, this isn't a spaghetti moment, he's not getting close enough to be improprietous. But a forkful's sectioned, and polished off with about as much finesse than Eddie's displaying. He's not crude, so much as simple.

"If she did," Thea comments around a sip of coffee. "Then she'll be needing to see the good doctor regarding something brought home." Lips twitch slightly and she reaches for her own bite of pie.

Pike grins a bit, then says to Eddie, "I'll be sure to book you some time in sickbay if need be."

Eddie feels better about ditching, apparently, if Roubani is holding his own. She uses paper cubits to pay for her portion. "Contrary to popular belief, I actually am up on all my shots." She smirks, just a faint curl of it on her lips. Her crust is dunked in what's left of her coffee and devoured. "That's it for me folks. It's been grand." Even if they wouldn't let her shank the waitress.

"Be careful going back," Roubani says softly. He cuts another sliver of pie off the side of his wedge, separating the crust and the berries to opposite sides of the plate. He eats the crust first, then the fruit.

Apparently Eddie's laundry list is either of no concern, or no surprise to Marek. He's going in for another forkful of the pie while still chewing the first, and merely twitches a small smile in lieu of offering a farewell with his mouth full.

Legacy isn't even looking directly at Morales when she comments, "Leave the knife on the table, Buns. The fork too. If you try to use the spoon, you'll find the toothbrush shoved somewhere delicate." Ahhhh, pilot love. They only torture those they like. "So, is everyone headed back this evening?"

Eddie tap taps the table next to Roubani's hand in acknowledgement, once more careful not to /actually/ touch him. She shimmies out of the booth, doing the card dealer thing of showing empty palms, the back of her hands, then empty palms again. No wayward silverware. Nothing up her sleeves. She offers a final, "Goodnight." And with hands thrust deep into her pockets, she's off to go brood some where else for the rest of the evening.

Pike nods to Thea as the last bite is taken. Once it's swallowed: "I have to take inventory on the supplies offloaded to sickbay before we depart, just to make sure they didn't forget anything."

Roubani looks up from his pie, tilting his head. "Where else would anyone go?"

"There's a charming little coffin motel, if you're so inclined, Roubani," Kai points out between bites. To Pike, "Any word yet on when we're leaving, sir? I've heard a day, and I've heard two." He swipes at his mouth with a napkin, eyes crinkling at the corners courtesy of Legacy's 'love'.

Nine is fine, tending her triangle of pie down to the crust while Captains trade pie over her. She still holds her knapsack on her lap, here and there picking a crumb up off of it. She leaves the bare brust on the plate and sets it back on the table, trying not to look too withdrawn. "A hotel could be fun. Maybe there'll be strange people there."

Thea grins over at Nine and dips her head. "Though, if it's a coffin hotel, it'd be…cramped. I think we have more room in bunks." Eyes twinkle a little. "There's the hotel, there are clubs here, quite a few things one can do. Even sit in the garden and listen to the fountain."

"…coffin motel, sir?" Roubani asks. The question sounds cautious. He glances at Legacy but it's very brief, and he looks back at Kai.

Pike shakes her head in response to Kai. "If they've made the decision, no one's told me." Arielle sips her coffee before continuing. "I can't imagine we'll be here much longer than a couple more days though."

Kai turns his fork over, and sets it down with a -tink- of tines atop the table. Nice men don't hog all the pie, after all. "A coffin motel," he repeats to Roubani. "You know, you show up, pick your preferred mode of death, and they lock you up and seal you away." He dabs at his mouth with the napkin again, still not cracking so much as a smile. "Gives a whole new meaning to the words checking out." Lifting his eyes to Pike, he nods slightly in acknowledgement.

Roubani for once doesn't display his usual naivete. He gives Kai a 'very funny, bub' narrowing of his eyes and rolls a few more blueberries onto his fork.

Legacy blinks at Kai, fork poised in the air, then coughs quietly. "Oh. I thought you meant one of those low cost hotels where each room is about half the size of a rack on Kharon."

Nine tips her head to one side at the Captain's description of the coffin motel. She lets a moment or two pass before she asks him, "Which way would you choose?"

Kai does finally smile, just a tick, when Roubani gives him that look. Hey, someone had to call him on it. "Really, it's not so bad as all that," he murmurs to Legacy. "You don't have snoring bunkmates to contend with." Nine's question doesn't catch him as off-guard as it probably ought to. "Bullet to the head," he answers succinctly.

Roubani presses the flat of his fork tines against a separate bit of sugar-coated crust until it sticks. That gets slipped into his mouth.

Pike rises from her chair and takes her outer shirt. "Afraid I must dash off. Work and all. Thanks for the pie, all." She smiles appreciatively to the others before finishing off her coffee and heading for the door.

Pike heads through the exit labeled <O> Out.
Pike has left.

Legacy waves Pike off, then cocks her head to listen to the conversation. "Shot out of the sky," she says quietly. "I'm going to die in my bird." It's simple.

"I'd be scared to get shot in the head," Nine admits. "I know in my brain that I wouldn't feel much, but… I'm afraid of what it wold feel like… mentally, you know? Like, would I not be able to remember x or y or z… and how long it would take, you know, from an insider's perspective. Would you be aware of your facilities shutting down? And for how long? Because even a few seconds inside your head can be a long time. I think I'd rather have the pain of being shot somewhere else and then bleeding out. If I had to be shot. I think if I could make the choice and then be forced to carry it out? I'd like to fall. They say your adrenaline gets all ramped up so when you hit whatever you're going to hit, it's like…" she suddenly stops. "It's like something else."

Just call Kai the conversation killer. The CMO's departure is presaged by a brief salute of two fingers to his forehead, more out of habit than anything else. After Legacy's spoken, he murmurs, sotto voce, "Not if I have anything to say about it." Since that's kind of his job. He's silent then while Nine offers her own insights, eyes fixed upon the edge of the table in front of him rather than any one face in particular, features hardening imperceptibly. By the time she's done, he's stock still. Tense, like a spring wound up too tight.

Roubani is silent, collecting blueberries on his fork. It's not a particularly uncomfortable silence, just one that volunteers nothing to the topic. He slides the fork back into his mouth upside-down, letting the blueberries on the tines rest on his tongue without chewing them, and just watches the others.

Thea cocks her head slightly, trying to follow Nine's train of thought. And she manages to do it, too! Well, right up until it takes a left turn, doubles back in on itself, attaches the caboose to the dining car and rolls into the tunnel. "If you're going to do a shot to the head, either barrel to the temple or to the underside of the chin," she says quietly. Then she looks across the table at Kai, head canting to the side ever so slightly. "And you're not taking a bullet to the head if *I* can help it. So there." Then she does the unthinkable for an officer. She flicks a blueberry at him.
<FS3> Kai rolls Reactive: Success.

Nine has… obviously spent far too long thinking about this sort of thing. She shoots (err… bad choice of word) a grateful look to the Captain for not letting the conversation fall completely flat after she's done voicing her various fears/fantasies about death. "Why is that?" she wonders, "I mean, what gets hit first if you shoot yourself in the temple or under your chin?" she follows up her question.

Switch. Flip. The blueberry that's innocently flicked at Kai is caught, a bit fumblingly, and flung away with a snap of his wrist that's harder than it strictly needed to be. Hopefully he won't bean someone in the eye with that thing. "It's like being high," he mumbles under his breath, as if finishing Nine's earlier thought. "But better. Excuse me." He's looking a little pale as he shuffles out of the booth and starts off at a prowl. Toward the bathrooms, ostensibly, via a near miss with a waitress carrying a pot of coffee.

Roubani is still quiet, staying detached from the others as though watching them through the observational side of a two-way mirror. At the bluberry-flinging and the storm-off by the Captain, his head doesn't move but his dark eyes shift to watch Kai's back.

Thea's smile flickers away as she watches Kai go. For the briefest moment, the confidence that's always there falters. But then it slides back into place and she looks to the others. "It hits soft tissue," she explains to Nine. "But the velocity of the bullet ensures that the center of the brain is obliterated before the nerves have time to send the pain impulse." Very clinical.

Nine was going to say she heard it was like having an orgasm, but had decided against using a word like that in front of officers. Still, she looks after the retreating Captain with a curious glance. When the other Captain explains the choice, Nine considers the option. "I still think falling's going to be my first choice. But I don't think I'd ever get up the nerve to jump off of something that high."

Make that just out, period. It's not quite a storming off, but Kai's definitely diverted his path out of the cafe entirely, and made himself scarce. Probably to clear his head a little, and mitigate the loss of temper in front of one of his pilots.

Kai heads through the exit labeled <O> Out.
Kai has left.

Having set some bills on the table a while ago, Roubani is able to slip from his seat without making too much fuss. Perhaps as testament to his lack of participation in the conversation, he doesn't interrupt them with anything mundane. He's just gone.

"I…" Thea says quietly. She starts to stand, but Roubani beats her to it. Her throat works for a moment and she offers him a small smile. "Have a good evening, Ensign," she says quietly, then turns back toward Nine. "It's hard to do something deliberately," she tells the woman, a bit distracted.

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