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[It's lunchtime back on the Mother of Invention, well, for some of the crew anyway. Others are stuck in training or out on missions, or just aren't hungry. For Wash, it is definitely time to eat, especially if his datapad reminder is correct. Which, it is. He knows he really doesn't need to have the schedule, but making it part of his routine has helped him accept that what happened to him is permanent. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't have all of his lunch with him there back in his reality (for very obvious reasons), so he brings his tray of food and one of the mess hall tables from one of the corners of the hall back with him to the Plane.
And there he sits now, occasionally eating an apple and taking a sip out of a cup with a yellow silly straw sticking out of it. A tall thermos sits closed near the cup and the rest of his tray, but he's hardly touched any of it yet with the exception of an apple and the half of a fish sandwich that looks like he'd torn pieces from it.
He's not alone, though. A tiny green dragon, that he accidentally hatched upon his arrival, has taken upon itself to find any way it can to sleep on him and is currently draped around the upper neck area of his armor, its head tucked up against his throat. The little creature is snoring in his ear, but he actually doesn't mind its presence because every now and then, the dragon's chest will rumble in such a way that reminds him of a cat. Unconsciously, he smiles faintly every time he hears that sound. He misses his old cats.
For now, though, his attentions aren't on his lunch or his new companion. They're on his helmet and a specific slot he's trying to find in it.] Come on, it should be around here somewhere... [He's muttering under his breath, not wanting to wake his new little friend. He frowns, then reaches for his cup to finish the rest of blood inside, the straw slurping noisily the second it runs out. He freezes, waiting to see if that'll be enough to wake it. A little grumble and growl emanates from the dragon, but thankfully it hasn't woken up yet. Took enough to calm it down before, he thinks to himself as he glances forlornly at his half-eaten sandwich, then to the small scorch marks on his gauntlet.]
And there he sits now, occasionally eating an apple and taking a sip out of a cup with a yellow silly straw sticking out of it. A tall thermos sits closed near the cup and the rest of his tray, but he's hardly touched any of it yet with the exception of an apple and the half of a fish sandwich that looks like he'd torn pieces from it.
He's not alone, though. A tiny green dragon, that he accidentally hatched upon his arrival, has taken upon itself to find any way it can to sleep on him and is currently draped around the upper neck area of his armor, its head tucked up against his throat. The little creature is snoring in his ear, but he actually doesn't mind its presence because every now and then, the dragon's chest will rumble in such a way that reminds him of a cat. Unconsciously, he smiles faintly every time he hears that sound. He misses his old cats.
For now, though, his attentions aren't on his lunch or his new companion. They're on his helmet and a specific slot he's trying to find in it.] Come on, it should be around here somewhere... [He's muttering under his breath, not wanting to wake his new little friend. He frowns, then reaches for his cup to finish the rest of blood inside, the straw slurping noisily the second it runs out. He freezes, waiting to see if that'll be enough to wake it. A little grumble and growl emanates from the dragon, but thankfully it hasn't woken up yet. Took enough to calm it down before, he thinks to himself as he glances forlornly at his half-eaten sandwich, then to the small scorch marks on his gauntlet.]
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