[Citadel, Shin Akiba] The Daily Special [OPEN!]

Nick soon pouted in fake dissapointment.

"Aww. And here I had my had my hopes up at seeing two men in masks and skin tight suits promised future kinkiness. But hey, you got the old married couple bit down pat, arguing who should pay the-Snrk"

She might have tried to have said more, but the giggles she'd been trying to put a leash on bubbled their way up. She let them run their course, before taking another sip of her drink.

"Sorry, I'm the kind of person who can't help but find everything funny."

She quirked her head at Vik's description of space travel.

"I'll have to take your word for it on that. Only bit of space travel I'm familiar with is a shuttle leaving atmosphere. For me, it feels like a really intense elevator, complete with ears popping. If it were not for the Citadel, I doubt I'd ever have left Earth."

Nick guestured vaguely in the direction of Sarah and her sister.

"Not like my sister over there. She used to be a real adventurer, going all the way to Illium, far distant colonies, even Omega a few times. Personally, I doubt I'll ever leave the solar system. But hey, that's fine. I've got all the galaxy I'll ever want to see right here."

She spread her arms in rather languid manner. She took another sip of her drink, before continuing.

"The Truth, huh? Beautiful name for a ship. Mine's just a little dingy called 'Circumference'. I can run her myself without any problem, but its safer to have at least two on hand."

She gave both of them an appraising look.

"Ever sailed on an actual boat, or have you guys only ridden on space ships?"
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Helena smiled warmly, and patted Sarah's hand fondly.

"Sarah, in my experience, when a person like you becomes a parent. Either they believe the crazy shit their psycho parents said and did was the right thing, and help repeat the cycle. Or, they recognize they wee full of shit, and strive to be amazing parents for their kids."

Muck raised a provocative brow.

"Do you really need me to tell you which one you are?"

"Never had the pleasure actually." Vik admitted. "Hell I don't even think I can swim. Consequence of being stuck in space. Well, we were stuck in space, that's changed. Although from sound of it not everyone is happy about it."

Vik didn't like thinking about all that. His cousin kept sending him updates, few of them included what was going on politically. Most of it was local stuff around the farm his father had set up. And that Uncle Gatril had mellowed out a bit... although he apparently still didn't like Vik. Then there were the Geth farmhands, the only reason the farm was running. He wasn't sure about the specifics of how that worked, Alee never explained all that much. She did say they were polite and didn't cause much trouble, but Vik would be lying if he said he didn't feel a bit wary about this new alliance between their peoples.

"I guess there is something to like about this place." Vik admitted. "The Citadel I mean. It isn't nearly as big a police state as it used to be. I guess all the changes from the Reaper War stuck, more or less. I didn't even get hassled for being a Quarian when I came aboard. Couple hours waiting for a dock, but that's it."

Vik looked to Nick's sister, over with Sarah. Hmm, they seemed to know each other. Probably old friends.

"I went to Omega a few times, never liked it. Too many slavers and greedy bosh'tets." Vik explained. "Never ran into your sister as far as I can remember, but I can definetly relate to the galactic wanderer aspect. There's a kinda freedom to it all. Just roaming the galaxy, going where you want, exploring the void. Wasn't entirely my choice though. Was kinda... running from something."

He probably shouldn't have said anything, but, really how was he going to get over all that if he didn't at least open up a little about it to some people?

Sarah took Helena's hand. "I know I'm not going to make the mistakes my mother did. I'm glad to have you and your family as friends, Muck. I'm just scared of my past history and everything ruining this kid's life." She took a deep breath, glancing back at Chris as she wandered off in a fury. "Did that guy bump into someone or something? I ran into the rear-end of an elcor once. Was dreadful for the both of us. She was all 'Concern with a sense of shock: Are you alright?" and .. I-" She rubbed a hand down her face, mentally telling herself to quiet.

Leeta couldn't help but give Hamilton a skeptical look as he protested her apology. She supposed it could have been worse. A run-in like this even a year ago would have meant C-sec and accusations about credit chits and who bumped into who. Of course, a year ago the accuser might not necessarily have been wrong. She bowed her head apologetically to the woman taking care of the situation.. "The finest you--? No no that is not...necessary..." She trailed off awkwardly when she realized the woman's back had already been turned to her. Leeta swallowed thickly and handed off the squished tube to an obliging worker and stepped out of the way of the holographic 'wet floor' sign.

"Right," she finally murmured. She wished she could disappear into the crowd again, but it seemed like most of the patrons had returned to their meals and conversations. She moved carefully toward the counter, glancing at Hamilton out of the corner of her eye to make sure he wasn't about to run off and leave her with the bill. She dabbed her arm with the towel before finally giving up. "What was your dish?" She asked, "and are there any tricks to remove stains of meat products?" She really, really didn't want to have to retire one of her favorite robes because of some hideous splotches, but looks were important, especially in the Tayseri ward. If you looked like you belonged in the slums, people treated you like you belonged in them.

Sailboat.

This human just asked if he, a quarian, had ever been on a sailboat... But of course, Lear had become more focused on the ship's name.

"Water? No, never been on a boat in it- Your ship's name is "Circumference"? Is it a circle? Maybe an oval? Perhaps even a sphere?" Lear was a smart quarian when it came to most things, but he was more than a little bit... awkward when it came to socializing.

"I miss the Hybrid now..."

"I don't know and um... I don't know." Hamilton said. His face was rapidly turning scarlet, not because he was confronted with an angry Quarian but out of embarrassment for himself. He honestly couldn't think of the answer to either question. In the frantic move to calm her down his mind had gone completely blank. He couldn't even remember the name of the restaurant he'd walked into not 15 minutes prior. His only tiny solace was that the Quarian seemed just as uncomfortable with the situation as he was.

When in doubt, throw money at it he thought. Obviously not the best adage in all situations but he could fall back on it here. "But don't worry about it." He continued, smiling widely (and quite falsely), "If they don't come out I'll replace them. Ruin your meal and I'll buy you a new one. Ruin your ah, robes and I'll...buy you some new ones." Even as he said it he recognized how insensitive he must have sounded. The poor girl's robes probably had some kind of sentimental value. The few Quarians he'd met did usually seem attached to them. No amount of money could replace memories. "Sorry again, by the way.

"It won't. Well, not in the way you're thinking. Just be honest about it with them about it and-" She paused, noting the irate Chris, and how scrambled Sarah seemed to be getting.

"Maybe you should check it out, make sure everything's alright? I still need to order something anyway."

She messed with her menu, requesting a thessian red, with chicken marsala.

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"Well, with those suits of yours, you probably wouldn't have to worry about drowning. Perfect for when we start to get a bit of chop, and don't have to worry about using rafts. Those are expensive."

She smiled at Lear's question, recalling a fond memory.

"Actually, I named her Circumference because, when I was growing up, I used to think one day I'd take my own ship around the world, and achieve a full circle. Maybe, one day I will. Earth won't be her best for a long time, but she's still beautiful to sail on."

She took another drink, eyes widening at the mention of Vik trying to escape.

"Oh, so you guys are even naughtier than I realized. Wait, don't tell me, you made off with an Admiral's daughter!"

"Oh I wish. At least then I could try and pretend I had a forbidden romance of the sorts." Vik said, sounding a little depressed at the subject. "No, let's just say my pilgrimage didn't go as planned and staying on the Flotilla put people at risk from some... dangerous folks I had tried to leave far behind. They wanted me back you see, and they've would've torn through my family to do it. So, I ran, because at that point in my life it was really all I was good at."

He felt a bit ashamed talking about it, but as said how was he going to get over it if he didn't? He still felt terrible about how he had left without even telling his family why. He should've, but he wasn't thinking.

"And as luck would have it, I finally returned the moment my people decided to get into a war with the Geth during the Reaper Invasion of all things." he grumbled. "Some days the universe just wants to laugh at you, I guess."

Even from behind her visor, it was obvious Leeta was staring at Hamilton with some semblance of disbelief. Honestly, who goes into a restaurant and orders a mystery dish and then promptly forgets what they ordered? She shook her head slowly at the mere thought of it, before it dawned on her that perhaps the young gentleman was at some point a soldier in the war and suffered from permanent head trauma. Judging from the shade of red his face was becoming, it didn't seem totally outlandish. With this in mind, she tried to shove her irritation into a small mental box to be vented later. She sighed quietly and set the dirty towel down on the counter. His offer to buy her new robes was a kindness, but did little to make her feel better. She wondered if the military gave a large stipend to those wounded in combat. If they suffered from mild amnesia, it would be difficult to hold a job.

"I bought this fabric in celebration for reclaiming our homeworld," she explained sullenly, assuming the sentimental value was obvious. "While I would appreciate the replacement just for the sake of having something new to wear, it would not...do much to ease my disappointment if I were unable to clean it without damaging it." At least he seemed properly apologetic now. "I will do some research and see if I can come up with something to clean them." She paused and tilted her head to look up at him again. "What is your name?"

Sarah let out a flummoxed sigh. She reached over, giving Helena a pat on the arm. "It was good seeing you- I'll call you if I have any questions." She slowly shoved off of the table to a stand, wandering back to the bar. She'd give Hamilton a sizing up, then over to the quarian he bumped into- The woman was more patient than Sarah was, she knew. She rolled her eyes and sighed, focusing her attention on the Turian.

The restaurant was starting to clear out as the lunch hour ended. Sarah held out her tea- And got a refill- And then she'd slip past the two to rejoin Vik and the others. "We shouldn't talk about this here, buddy." She gave him a nudge. "Military and merc work is not eating conversation." She shot him a wink, adopting her old stool by the bar.

"I got the impression, Sarah." Vik admitted. "To be honest I just didn't know how else to contact you. If I could talk to my friends in AEGIS I wouldn't even be here, but they no doubt got their hands full and are way too far are out to help. Is there a place we can meet up after work perhaps? Somewhere less public and fewer potential eavesdroppers?"

Vik didn't want to get Sarah into trouble anyway. The less she knew about what was going on, the less connected she was, the better. This was his problem, not hers. But if she had some old contacts, maybe even an idea of who he could talk to, maybe he'd stand a chance of pulling it off.

Plus, Vik got to dip into his old paranoid habits without them being wholly unwarranted, so there was that.

"It's Hamilton. Jacob York Hamilton. Please, just call me Hamilton, that's what everyone calls me. Let's just get to the counter." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Are you sure you're alright? You just started talking kind of slowly..."

There was something terribly familiar about the phrase 'Just call me Hamilton,' but his question brought her out of her thoughts. "What? Slow--oh." She vaguely wondered if it was insulting to be too obvious in differential treatment for the disabled. She knew from her own experience that it was no fun being treated as though she were a dainty flower that needed to be handled carefully at all times. She wanted to be treated normally by other species, and she supposed that would hold the same even for someone with what was likely extensive brain damage. She made up her mind to speak slowly without making it too obvious that she was trying to accommodate his problems.

"Perhaps...I am a little dazed...but I promise I am fine." She hoped that did it. "Hamilton was it? I do not suppose that is a common name among humans? I am very vaguely acquainted with one. As vaguely as one can be acquainted with anyone from the extranet--" For the briefest of moments she wondered if they were the same Hamilton. She hadn't gotten a chance to speak with his ex-coworker Talsa yet, but it seemed difficult to believe that someone with head trauma could run their own business.

Nick blinked at the inclusion of Sarah.

"Oh, am I like, intruding on private business stuff? I can leave."

She offered, unsteadily starting to vacate her chair. The thespian mix was a little stronger than she realized.

Sarah shook her head, darting a glance over to the pirate. "No, no, you're fine, me hearty!" She drummed her hands against the bar- Glancing through the employee bar entrance, hoping to get a glimpse at Chris to no avail. She's lean back into the backrest of the bar chair and finish off her tea.

It wasn't hard to see that Sarah looked a little anxious. That was the second time Vik thought he saw her look over her shoulder at something. The finger drumming was something he often did when he was nervous himself. He wasn't an expert with humans, and he wasn't trying presume, but he wondered...

Vik took a small sip of his drink before he tried to ask.

"Something wrong Sarah?" he asked her discreetly. "You look a little worried. I mean, I don't mean pry or anything."

Hamilton stopped and turned back at her, blinking slightly in surprise at the sudden strange question. They had started to head back to the counter and he had more or less been expecting to be a short trip made entirely in awkward silence.

"Um, the name Hamilton? It's not hugely common but I'm sure there's plenty of Humans that have it as a surname. Funny coincidence, I guess?"

Like Leeta, Hamilton had also briefly considered the possibility of her being the same Quarian he had communicated with on the Extranet, but had dismissed it the very instant it had crossed his mind. The Citadel was an absolutely massive place with over 13 million other people on board. The probability of it being the same quarian were so astronomically low that even he knew it couldn't be the case. He actually chuckled softly to himself for even having the thought as he turned back and continued heading towards the back of the restaurant.

Leeta nodded idly as Hamilton spoke, stopping in front of the counter. "I suppose, unless you have a brother. The Hamilton I am vaguely acquainted with has about the same amount of luck dealing with quarians as you do." Her tone sounded just a just a little lighthearted, even if she was still speaking slowly for the poor slow gentleman. "Though he was merely uninformed and treating his employee like a human. He had not quite graduated to blindly running us down." Her smile was evident in her voice as she briefly touched on the details of her interactions with the 'other' Hamilton.. "Does that sound like something a relative of yours would do?" She laced her hands together as she spoke, studying him. It had been a long time since she had interacted with a human in a social setting like this; she would have to get used to how they expressed themselves again.

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Hamilton froze, still facing away from her as they headed to the counter. His mouth opened and closed a few times like a goldfish in a bowl and he suddenly went very pale. A quiet, panicked squeaking noise escaped his lips each time he opened his mouth, lost to the general bustle of the restaurant. He spun around, smiling widely (and slightly maniacly).

"No, that doesn't sound like any of my relatives, sorry. And I haven't got a brother. Only child. Would've been funny if I was related to him though. He sounds interesting." With this he whirled around and continued to speed towards the counter, nervous desperation now coloring his movements.

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On the Citadel for a change, making a brief stopover on his way to Rannoch for the Harvest Festival, Jil'Korah vas Dasegar decided to try out some of the local cuisine. Well, 'cuisine'. Nutripaste didn't really qualify, but it came in a variety of flavors and some of the more interesting ones were probably available here, at the supposed 'center of the galaxy'.

Jil wasn't really all that impressed by the Citadel. The tech disparity between the Citadel territories and the Terminus got a lot of attention in the media, but it wasn't actually all that big. On the small-scale, the Flotilla probably rivaled anything C-Space could put out, and the geth certainly did, though theirs tended to go off in strange directions.

I'm not really sure what the big deal is about the Citadel, y'know. There's not that much evidence that it was built by the Reapers... Tech isn't as fancy as people like to think.
The combination of technology and scale is unique.
Okay, I'll grant you that, but given how it was always depicted in the newsfeeds? Eh.
Recordings predating the arrival of the Old Machines indicate significant change since that time.
I'm guessing not change for the better.
Better is relative.
Point. I- oh. Ah, damnit. So much for this place.

Not only was the restaurant crowded enough to deter Jil and his bulky envirosuit from spending much time there, but it featured that peculiar situation of several quarians and several humans near enough each other to talk. It was clearly that worst of all sins; that crime most heinous and situation most unpleasant: there was an extranet meetup in progress.

Jil'Korah backed out of the establishment at the almost precise speed with which he had entered, never to return.