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

Friendship By Food was an unusual name for a restaurant- And that isn't where the odd quirks ended. With it's relative lack of chairs compared to the other restaurants on the ward, the fact food was brought to you at a buffet table and both chiralties were present meant a lot of people frequented it- And thus, were inclined to mingle. One of the head chefs glanced across the busy, crowded floor, mandibles twitching. He'd hold a hand up to the side of his head, murmuring to one of the waitresses. An asari walked past him with a sigh, carrying a tray of food.

Friendship By Food...

At first glance, it had seemed like a good place that might have had some nutripaste that a Quarian could eat. Then Lear had entered through the front door.

In his life he'd served on three Quarian ships, but the amount of people crammed into this restaurant made the Quarian (who was fairly noticeable in the crowd as he was the only one wearing a metallic grey exo-suit with a pale blue visor) uncomfortable, and he seriously considered just running. Taking a deep breath, Lear began making his way through the crowd until he emerged on the other side, now facing possibly the strangest turian ever (His mandibles were literally twitching. Twitching). Lear tried to think of something to say.

"Hello. I came here to see if you had any nutripaste I could buy. You see, I've tried a lot of other places and they didn't have any, and then I heard about how this place had food for both Levos and Dextros, so I thought you'd have some nutripaste... Do you think you'd be able to check?" Lear thought back too the last restaurant he'd asked for nutripaste at. The owner, a human, had started saying some things that his translator had picked up as offensive. Lear hoped this turian wouldn't do the same thing.

The Turian chef appeared to be stressed, this being the cause of his mandible twitch. He shot a glance to the Quarian. "I- Yes." He'd reach behind the counter, removing a small electronic menu and handing it over. Quarian Nutri-Paste. "We have at least six varieties in stock. Quarians are fairly rare here, but I'm sure we can accommodate you."

Lear hesitated, surprised at the Turian's... What was the word? Hospitality? Yeah, that was it. Hospitality. He hadn't yelled, he hadn't cursed, and he hadn't told Lear to get out of his restaurant before threatening to call C-Sec.

"Th-thanks... I think..." Lear hesitantly took the menu from the Turian's claws, unsure if he was being sincere or if this was some form of cruel trick. After taking it and holding it fairly close, Lear kept his eyes locked on the Turian's. After he was sure it wasn't a trap, Lear looked down at the menu (looking back up at the Turian every few seconds, just to be sure). Seeing the list of nutripaste was absolutely mindblowing to Lear. He never knew there was so much... variety when it came to plain old boring nutripaste.

"Keelah... Do you have a recommendation?"

Did you seriously JUST ask for a recommendation on which nutripaste to order, Lear? You stupid, stupid, bosh'tet.

Kevos Barakis shrugged, moving one of his claws across his chin in thought. He snapped his fingers."I'm afraid I can't suggest anything other than this one." The chef stepped out into the back, returning a moment later with a tube. He offered it over. "The other Quarian customers we've had have claimed it was good, so I'm going off of word of mouth. Twenty five credits, a real bargain for quality."

Lear pulled the credit chip out of his pocket and looked at it for a short time. Twenty five credits was a bargain for nutripaste at a restaurant, but Lear only didn't have a lot of credits too begin with, but if he didn't pay for this he'd go hungry...

Finally sighing in resignation, Lear reluctantly handed the Turian his chit, taking the tube and holding it against himself as if it were a lifeline. Lear was nervous around overly large crowds of people, and when he got nervous, he talked.

A lot.

"So... busy day?"

"Busy every day." The chef held a hand to his ear, glancing across the floor. "Well, fill it up again. We need more punch on table three. It's simple. Filtered ice water and the mix in the back, do I have to explain this with drawings so you can understand?" The chef gave Hybrid a pat on the arm, then wandered off to bark more orders at his workers.

Despite things going well, they weren't good enough. Still not enough money for a ship. Still not credible enough an operative. Sandman wasn't going to be impressed with getting out of a salvage mission alive with the spoils and a group of scavengers dead. They were scavengers, not friggin terrorists or some PMC. No, he needed something better and far more impressive. He had an idea, but it required people who were more dangerous than techies... and with any luck people who wanted more than just money.

So, back to the Citadel to find desperate or potentially eager guns for hire who wanted to work. And to find a place that was more comfortable than his crap apartment back in DC. He had a few ideas on how to get the word out, but for now he just wanted something to eat. He knew VigilantVanguard, her screen name, from the CDN meet up. He figured her place would be a nice place to get something to eat, and given her reputation maybe she could steer him in the right direction.

Time to be more trusting of people, Vik said to himself in his head. Leave paranoia at the door and open up to more folks. There were good people out there and they would want to help, there had to be. And strangely enough one of those good people was the counter.

"Lear," he said amazed. "here I thought you'd be lying somewhere on a beach on Rannoch with the Flashlight heads giving you some shade. How you been man?"

Lear wasn't the kind of guy he was looking for with this op he had in mind, but it was nice to see a friendly face.

Lear nearly fell over when he heard Vik's voice, quickly turning to the Quarian. Lear quickly latched onto his friend. He let go shortly after, but kept his hand's on Vik's shoulders at arm length.

"Vik'Sajee! I can't believe it! I thought you were dead, or worse, on Rannoch! Wait, that came out backwards... Come on, Vik. Me? Beaches? I thought you knew me better." In all of the chaos that had followed Earth, Lear had managed to get himself lost... again. He'd eventually gone to the Citadel, and had continuously tried to contact Vik (and even Zhukoi at one point), but to no avail.

"How have I been? Lost, mostly... I couldn't find anybody... But now you're here! What brings you to the Citadel? Where you living these days? What happened to the Kolosya?" Lear had always been nervous in crowds, so he did the first thing that came to mind: Fire off questions as fast as he could think of them.

"Finally...", the hooded individual grumbling to himself as he got himself a plate, a bit pricey, but these past few weeks had been more eventful than expected. Getting into a brawl with the Lower Tayseri Elite, the 'job' from that enigmatic fuck Xuumo, not to mention his former gang leader showing up and the LTE putting a price on his head, As a result, Snow felt entitled to a meal in anonymity for once.

Looking around for an empty table, the restaurant was bustling around the lean charity worker as he finally found a spot by a window. Lowering his hood, Snow spotted two quarians talking amongst themselves, a head chef barking orders, and other respectable folk doing respectable things, "so what am I doing here?" Not getting an answer to his thought, Snow went to work, eating the plate of pasta and garlic bread, forgetting his troubles for a few minutes, which included gangsters, a boss that was cagy and ditzy, not to mention his excitement at the possibility of real violence. Not a normal thought, but in Snow's mind, fitting.

"I thoguth about staying on Rannoch, but well, as much as I'd love to stay with the family I just can't seem to stay put. To be honest I just didn't think I could do much there. Too many changes, too quickly, wasn't sure I could handle it. But at least I'm in contact with my dad and cousin now, so its not all bad. As for the Kolosya, Zhukoi captains it now. I resigned my commission. Only so much you can do when you're stuck on a quarian ship. So, I've been living on earth... for the past year and half or so. since the apocalypse ended and all that."

Not exactly a harrowing story, but Vik didn't really have to the whole thing other than that. He wanted to do good out here, he couldn't do that on a farm on Rannoch at the other end of the Galaxy.

Lear took all of what Vik said, but obsessed over one detail.

"What? You're leaving on Earth? All the way down there?! Dude, you should've called me! I got plenty of room at my place!" In all honesty, he didn't even need the apartment he had now. It was still a small place, but it was made for two or three people. Not just one Quarian.

"But Zhukoi's Captain, huh? Must be bored out of his mind..."

"My place is fine for now, its out of the way and hospitable enough. Worse places I could be." Vik admitted. "Zhukoi always wanted to be incharge of his own ship one day. He's keeping busy, can't tell you what though to be honest. Even in peace, theres always something the Flotilla needs you to do. He's still not big on the Geth Alliance though, but he has cooled to it. He still expects apologies from the units that killed his ancestors if he ever runs into one... or one of their reproductions, its a complicated thing."

He was still waiting on VV to show up, maybe she'd recognize him. Then he could get some help finding the people he needed. Or at least get pointed in the right direction.

"Well... Okay then... But my place is always open if you need a place to stay..." Lear looked at Vik, wondering why he'd come here of all places.

"So... What have you been up to since... All of that fighting..." Lear was still uncomfortable thinking about how close everything had been to ending, but he was getting better. Just like socializing. He was getting better.

"Doing odd jobs for Titan, and getting told I'm barely even worth keeping around." Vik grumbled. "I'm trying to get a ship, but I need the money and I need something even more important, recognition. The former is easy, the latter not so much. It takes a lot to impress Paramilitary companies, and being a quarian there isn't much you can do to change their minds without potentially getting a bullet puncturing a seal and dying. So, I'm in a pickle, as the humans say."

He had no idea why humans related being stuck in a difficult situation to a vegetable they stuck in jars of bacteria-laced water. Then again, they also started a secret war against a Central American nation over the fruit known as bananas and put the face of a man who forced a Sovereign nation's people on a death march on their currency at one time. Humans were a strange people. Strange and at times morally questionable in terms of their past.

"I still don't understand humans and their obssession with downright absurd sayings... I mean, the majority of them just don't make sense!"Lear pushed his nutripaste into one of the pockets in his robe, planning to have it later. Right now he wanted to catch up with an old friend.

"That sounds rough... But if you're going off the Citadel, you'd better have room for me. I've had enough of this place. It's simply just too... artificial? Does that make sense?" Lear wrung his hands. Vik was his friend. Hell he was practically family (or at least the closest thing to it), and Lear felt like he needed to repay Vik for taking him in after Garvug (granted, Lear hadn't really given him a choice, but still. Vik didn't have to accept his transfer request back then).

"So... What brought you here?" Lear was honestly curious as to why Vik had come here. Maybe he knew someone who worked here? Or maybe he was meeting someone? Lear mentally shrugged, listening intently to whatever Vik would tell.

"I'm not leaving the Citadel just yet, Lear. I'm not even leaving earth. Not without a ship. For now, what I have in mind isn't exactly safe, for anyone. And after that whole Business with Lelantos I don't like the idea of putting you into more danger than you can chew. Wouldn't mind, having a friend along though. Let me give it some thought."

Truth was, Vik just wasn't sure. He would need people who could survive with enviro-suits to make his plans work. People who were at considerably less risk when they got a suit puncture. Humans, Tturians, preferably a krogan if he was lucky. Its not that he didn't think quarians could handle it, he knew they could, but this went back too far in his psyche. He couldn't put other quarians at risk, not for his crazy schemes.

Some old habits died harder.

"As for why I'm here, I know the owner, sort of. She's had her own run ins with Cerberus herself. At least thats what i hear through the grapevine. I figure she can point me to the right people."

A blonde woman approached to VikSajee's left, adopting a seat at a bar stool. "I don't know, the owner sounds like a real bitch." She glanced off to the Quarian, a deadpan expression on her face. Her hair was longer than it was the last time he saw her- And she appeared to be considerably more sober (in both mood and inebriation).

She'd drum her hands on the bar, a silver wedding band rapping against the mahogany. "Is Chris here?" She asks the bartender, who shakes his head. The blonde lets out a flummoxed sigh, raking a hand through her hair. "Where is that girl off to..?" She mumbled to herself, glancing across the busy eatery.

Well this is what you got for talking behind people's backs aloud. Embarassing. Still, she hadn't thrown him out yet. Good start.

Vik had learned a little from his stupidity with the Sandman. First and foremost never make demands when you can't back them up with something substantial. Second, never try to atagonize someone, unless you can back it up. Third, never immediately cut to the chase with something. Better to build a raport first... well maybe that wasn't so important with Sandman. He had a dozen different rules for him by now for next time. But at least with Sarah she wasn't... well a greedy scum sucking capitalist jerk who secretly loathed him. So asking for some help wouldn't be nearly as hard.

Wasn't like he was asking her for a ship.

Time to make more friends, he thought.

"Nice hair cut." he complimented. "You look good with it slightly longer. Need a drink? I actually have money now so I can cover for it."

The blonde beamed with the compliment, raking a hand through her hair as if it was nothing. She turned to give VikSagee her attention, resting a hand against her cheekbone. "You know, thanks, but I can't drink for a few months. It's complicated." She was still afraid of telling people outright- The idea was still new to her, the prospect of having a child in the future. She glanced across the man's faceplate, trying to read him in a futile effort.

"The tea's on the house- Or so Chris tells me. What are you boys doing here?"