A Stew for the Crew (Nadesico Crew, Open)

The Nadesico
December 13, 2880
11:00 a.m.


In the kitchen of the Nadesico, Amelia would be silently humming to herself as she was preparing a meal for the crew today. She would be swaying side to side as she prepared a large portion of what would be something absolutely fantastic for all onboard. She was certain that they would come to love it, she has seen many at home enjoy such a delicacy as well. At the moment, she was in her orange crew uniform provided to her by Nergal, on top of it she wore her chef’s apron to help distinguish her as the resident culinary expert. Although, you could surmise as much with her presence in the kitchen.

The recipe she had prepared and scaled up for serving multiple people was as follows.

10 lbs of pork belly
10 eggplants
40 okras
90 string beans
25 ounces of daikon radish
5 bunches of kangkong (water spinach)
5 red onions
30 long chili peppers
40 cups of water
10 tomatoes
330g of tamarind mix
Fish Sauce

Amelia would of course begin by chopping up all the ingredients. While it was time consuming, it is an essential step for creating this delicious meal. She was quite happy as well to find that the Nadesico had quite the selection of food in stock. She wouldn’t be running out of ideas for food anytime soon it seems. In the meantime however, it would be a perfect opportunity for anyone to strike up a conversation with her as she stood right in front of the serving counter chopping away at the meat and vegetables needed for this meal.

Since his arrival to the Nadesico, there'd been a single individual on the ship that Abigail hadn't spoken to yet: the cook. of course, everyone else had seen them and talked to them most likely; but Abigail had been reportedly busy keeping the infirmary organized while keeping up with his study of the Aestivalis' manual, which was bound to take quite some time for him to work out.

But now, he was free and thus a chance was taken, carefully opening the kitchen's door while rasping his knuckles against it, making his pressence known, the newer intern stepped towards the cook; slightly lifting his right hand up and breathing in, Abby feinted a salutation, cutting himself short and simply resting his finger against his jaw before just looking at the cook, ever so expertly chopping and slicing through veggies and meat alike, just dropping the attempt at theatrics and stepping right by the cooking table, hands kept completely off it

"hello there miss; may I ask what's on the menu today?"

his tone was oddly formal, perhaps just nerves showing in a way different than expected, and if not, then he's just being polite, taking into account the relatively asocial nature he carried with himself; this was only exacerbated by the noticeable stress in his face as he motioned towards where his bag would usually be hanging, still getting used to not having it around everywhere he went.
wonderful start to a social interaction indeed, a polite greeting and visible repressed stress, great job, you jellyfish, you gonna deflate like one as they reach the surface too? he thought, speaking to himself for a moment

The cook would look over as the kitchen doors swung open and a new person came in. Well… it wasn’t HIM so that was a bummer. But this seemed to be that new medical student that came aboard with her, that unkempt look about him made her immediately think he came from a humble background. Backed up with the slightly stiff formal tone, it was immediately clear to Amelia that this man was not used to social interactions. She would slowly begin to speak in her usual slightly upbeat yet klutzy sounding tone of voice.

“Well… Uhh… It’s not something I think a lot of people here have tried. It’s called sinigang, it’s a soup made with tamarind paste. It’s salty, sour, and very hearty. I thought of making this for the crew if we had the supplies, and thankfully we do!“

She seemed to be chopping up the eggplants right about now as she glanced up at Abigail a bit from time to time. She couldn’t risk breaking her focus too much, lest she cut her fingers. But so far, it seemed that she was almost ready to start cooking proper.

“You’re Abigail, right? I’m Amelia. What brings you here to the kitchen? Are you volunteering for kitchen work? I’d appreciate the help quite a lot!”

She would soon finish cutting the eggplants as she turned to him and held out her dry hand to him, clearly indicating she wished to have a handshake with him.

Ah, the energy! he...didn't expect the cook to be that energetic and generally upbeat, merely hearing her speak while chopping and...looking at him Unsafe was making the medical student not as nervous, just slightly more open with each word; being closer to a slow metal door being opened by a crank, than an elevator that opens with a button, however.

"A pleasure to meet you, Amelia; and though I came to say hi; definitely not opposed to giving a hand if I can!"

Abby quickly stretched the cook's hands, softly shaking it up and down before letting go and adjusting his hair into a soft knot behind his head, letting the faded blue on the underside and tips of it properly show as he breathed in; getting into an open position beside the cook herself and turning towards the sink, cleaning his hands again just in case before properly taking a look at the ingredients; the vegetables being used and the prepared tools aimed somewhere between a Soup or straight up a stew, torn between the two because, well, he wasn't that good at cooking afterall

"So! what may I assist with?"

As the handshake finished, she would turn to look at all the ingredients on the table. Well… nothing seemed to be missing… except for one crucial part that isn’t actually a part of sinigang. The only thing that makes a sinigang perfect, that white glutinous grain, that glorious fluffy texture that soaked up all the sauces you could ask for.

“Wait, that’s right! I forgot to start making the rice. Silly me… uhhh…”

Amelia would begin to frantically look around for the rice dispenser before pointing to it in the corner of the kitchen. It seemed to be a machine that dispensed a certain amount of rice depending on what button you pressed, but it seemed like they were all big portions.

“Could you grab a bowl and press the second option there? Fill that bowl up with rice then start washing it and dunking the excess starch about 3 times. Do think you can do that, Abigail?”

She would turn back to Abigail as she made her plea for help in her work, giving him a slight puppy dog stare.

“If we don’t get this done now, we won’t be able to get the sinigang and the rice done on time.”

All while the cook was speaking, Abby would get a hold of an empty bowl, hurrying over to the rice dispenser and - as instructed - pressing the second option and carefully pouring water in right afterwards, extending his finger and carefully measuring up to just under his knuckle before beginning to properly wash it. holding it on his hand as he dunked the starch off, once, then twice and finally a third time.
Taking the bowl of washed rice over to Amelia, sliding it carefully onto the table, Abigail looked at her as if expecting something else to do; picking up a dishcloth in order to dry his hands anew, gently folding it and placing it on the table right after

"So! what's next?"

For a couple seconds his tone was slightly more enthutiastic than it should be, but he didn't really put enough attention there to correct it; merely observing as the ingredients got chopped and put in place to be ever so gently stirred into a proper stew.

It was something that the still young Qualle was null about, barely even reaching to the skill floor to make some nice little bags of rice and some homemade tomato sauce - recipe courtesy of his uncle. Being able to actually help in the making of something so noticeably more complex; it almost made him water for a few seconds, as the smell of vegetables and meat cooking slowly wafted through the kitchen, only held back by his focus on helping

She would glance over at him as he began to wash the rice. While the finger measuring was unnecessary, he’d taken off enough of the starch for it to be good enough for steaming. “Ok, now you transfer that to the rice cooker and fill up the bowl until your pointing finger’s first knuckle or joint. Then just press cook and it will do the rest.”

She herself was getting ready to start cooking the sinigang. She would begin with a large pot and a big pair of tongs. She would put some vegetable oil on the bottom of the pot before she grabbed the chopped pork belly and would toss most of it into the pot, leaving some out as to not overcrowd it. She seemed to be searing it a little, all to get that nice fond at the bottom of the pot to give the sinigang a slight porky flavor. While it was a bit untraditional, a bit of fond never hurt anyone. But one thing was for sure, the kitchen was beginning to smell quite amazing. No longer was the smell bland or sterile, as the smell of meat searing at the bottom of the pot began to fill the air.

“After that, I think I can handle the rest of this on my own. We already have some other things prepared on the side that I can cook while waiting for this to boil. Not that you can’t stay a bit longer if you like to. It does get pretty boring while something boils, I think I would like the company.”

Once more, the lad gave a very slight salute, followed by an etuthiastic "aye!" immedeatly taking a hold of the rice and walking over to the rice cooker, beginning to pass the contents from the bowl over to the machine itself; Abigail was being pretty careful with the process, leaving no grain behind. Right afterwards he filled it with water, measuring it as instructed before closing it up, pressing the cook button and once more going over to clean his hands

"then I suppose my job here is done! ...That..does smell pretty good; and right now I don't really have anything to do - already turned the infirmary upside down getting everything properly into place."

the general nerves had been forced out completely by this point, his tone confident and generally friendly, perfectly accompanying the somewhat bubbly and noticeably Alive expressions constantly drawing on his face. He ended up breathing in and out, winding down for a moment before shaking his head, counting to three in silence before speaking again

"also uh, did you also get assigned a machine from those in the hangar? aren't there like, professional pilots aside from the bridge's crew?"

Genuine confusion as he spoke, framed in a casual tone and followed with a somewhat akward chuckle, releasing his hair from the knot it had been pushed into, it was already escaping it afterall, generally settling in a more comfortable stance after a couple moments

“Meat searing will always smell good. But a stockpot full of ingredients will smell even better.” She said as she began to add the vegetables, cooking them in with the pork as she stirred them together in the stockpot. It was certainly quite a lot of work as she stirred and stirred with all the might her dainty arms provided her. It was definitely going to take some getting used to cooking this much for sure.

When he spoke of the Aestivalis, she would perk up slightly and look down at her hand which had the special nanomachines in them as was standard for Nergal employees on the ship. They were so poorly prepared for this that she seemed slightly distraught at the thought of having to fight and cook aboard this ship.

”Apparently there’s not a lot of pilots on board. It’s just Mak who is officially a pilot. Everyone else is serving a different role. But I guess you don’t really need a cook when people are fighting a short skirmish.” To take her mind off that slightly horrifying thought, she would continue to cook the pork and veggies until they were just at the right color and texture. She then grabbed some fish sauce and drizzled it over the meat and veggies, followed up by a large amount of water which she had poured into a slightly smaller pot to better facilitate pouring the liquid of life into the stockpot for boiling. She would the place a lid on top in order to trap heat inside the stockpot in order for it to reach a boil.

At this point Abby was just observing the cook doing her thing, falling into silence for a couple moments as the pot begun boiling; losing himself in the popping and rising and drizzling of bubbles and water itself. The thought that both of them were expendable was a terrifying one indeed, why would you care if all you mattered was the cost of your tools?
The poor newly arrived intern breathed out after what felt like an eternity, opening his mouth to speak before cutting himself short; no that wasn't right he thought, that wasn't the right expression. Was there a right expression?

"Let me tell you a small story"

The young man's entuthiasm shone its way out for a moment while ruminating the idea of telling the story he had in mind, was it worth it to drawl on his own life just to make a quiet point against the concept of being expendable in their position. And very slowly his lips formed into a grin, leaning back on a table.

"when I was little, my uncle told me my mom had left somewhere as a doctor; heard about her work every day on TV. Never really saw her until we received a picture in the mail, and an obituary; didn't even get to know how - or at least I did not."

His tone became a bit somber, and yet he was still smiling as he took that quiet moment to breathe; no, to parse his own thoughts. A hand slowly drifting down to his bag before once more realizing it still wasn't there; and it wouldn't be.

"She looked so happy, a cross on her arm and a bag like mine hanging from her shoulder. As if the world wasn't miserable while she was helping other go with their live, even if she didn't; and then I read the back of the photo and understood why we received that."

Abigail lifted his hands up, holding a napkin as if it was a picture being turned over, lifting his tone into a noticeable bout of direct remembrance

"it went 'To save a life, already makes mine worth its miseries; to have brought one myself, and kept several others going, has made its value tenfold.'"

And at fear of going a bit too preachy or even just breaking the mood, he circled back to the reason why he started the story i the first place.

"Point is, for me at least... So long as I can save a life, mine has worth; and though I'm not a pilot and I'm not brave, I refuse to believe myself or those with me to be expendable. Though I'm already rambling too long, sorry."

Amelia remained quiet as Abigail went on with his little speech, inside she felt rather confused. Why does saving lives make his own worth it? What kind of satisfaction can you acquire from such a feat? It was little more than an act to curry favor from others, nothing more and nothing less. That was its will for her. Outwardly however, she expressed a smile as if to appreciate his self appointed purpose in life. "That's very uhhh... noble of you, Abigail. I'm sure your mother would be proud of your actions here." She then took a moment to look at the sinigang boiling in the pot, had she missed anything from the recipe she prepared? She looked around at what was present, and she had realized she forgot the most important part of the sinigang.

"Wait a second, I forgot the- Wah!" She began to sprint towards the pantry but soon slipped on the wet frictionless kitchen tiles. Her body soon began to tilt forward as she came at risk of falling face first onto the floor. Luckily there was someone there who could catch her.

Abigail wasn't really the kind of individual to want favors from people, even if his way of living tended to put him insituations where he'd be grateful to be helped; instead he just kinda wanted to well, help people. From the top of a lighthouse one can see the sea all the way to the horizon, but what lay beyond it? and what lay behind oneself? It wasn't all just pretty sights of the sea over in his little fishing town, afterall.

He hadn't paid much attention to the commentary of it being "noble" or his mom being proud, it wasn't what mattered to him afterall. The moment Amelia begun to...not walk, but rather... Sprint to the pantry; Abby directly dashed forwards. Directly throwing away his own balance to jump infront of the cook, slamming a single foot down and holding her by the shoulders to prevent the girl from falling; the whole maneuver however, was a crapshoot for his safety. his back crashing against a table with a...noticeable slam, and a painful arching of the nurse's back

"Try to uh... Not dash through possibly, agh- slippery floors; y-you alright?"

It was a noticeably uncomfortable thing to see the, clearly injured, Abigail trying to straighten his back and speak without noticing the fact he just slammed his spine straight into the edge of a kitchen table; the medicine student still trying to paint a smile on his face, visibly focusing more on Amelia's wellbeing.

Amelia had closed her eyes in anticipation of the fall, what she wasn’t expecting was for Abigail to catch her at the cost of his own well-being. She was now huddled quite close to his chest, with her hands being the only thing separating them slightly. “I-I’m fine… but what about you? Do you need an ice pack?” A small rush of adrenaline was running through her veins, her heart was beating fast from nearly falling… and unconsciously for a completely different reason which she slowly began to realize as her face turned pinkish red. A hue which Abigail did not miss so easily as she looked up right at him.

While her hands pushed them away from each other slightly, Abigail felt something soft pressing against him. While Amelia didn’t vocalize it, clearly she felt some light embarrassment by having them so close to one another. As a result, she instead continued to voice her concern for the medic as a distraction for him and herself. “W-What about painkillers? D-Do I have to call the other medical staff? A-A stretcher? Do you need a stretcher?”

That quiet rush of adrenaline and sudden embarrasment came just as fast for him as they did for Amelia, a soft flush of red in Abigail's cheeks as the situation in general dawned on the both of them. Softly coughing to the side to clear the air for a moment before the cook went down the rabbithole, not even giving him time to accept the offer of an ice pack.

And that softness... Come on jellyfish, you know what it is, don't even try to reach it, that's not polite! And...he didn't. Slightly lifting up a hand trying to get a moment to even speak between the lady's concerned distraction panic, letting out ever so soft mutters out of his own brand of embarrassment; Abigail's back practically stuck on a perfec straight.

"Uh- n-no need, a bit of ice would help a lot though"

Even when he managed to put in a word, that soft blush refused to vanish; that ever so slightly embarrassing expression - a wobbling grin trying to smother a blush - still present.

“A-Alright! On it!” Amelia quickly got off from Abigail as she rushed over to the freezer in the kitchen to fetch something cold that can numb the spot on his back. As she rummaged through each item, all Amelia was able to do was question why exactly she reacted in that way. While it was on character for who she is supposed to be, it felt almost… natural. She’s used her body for worse things before, motionless as a doll at times. So why exactly did he trigger that type of response?

She shooed the idea away from her head as she managed to find an ice gel pack lying around. She took it and immediately rushed back to Abigail. She was quickly swapping the ice pack between each hand before slowly lifting his back up in order to place the ice pack behind him. “There is that better, Abigail?”

As the situation once more returned to something considerable normal, Abigail's heart kept pumping - be it nerves, embarrassment, or something else entirely; he could clearly feel it thumping inside his chest, faster and yet still perfectly within bounds. Ok now, Abby, don't fumble the bag with an akward comment. He thought for quite noticeable moment, forgetting completely to take his eyes off of Amelia herself as she went and came with the ice pack; the light red on his face disappearing, however.

Lifting the lad's shirt up to place the ice didn't reveal that much - if at all, just a couple more bruises from falling over on his own or to help other people; most of them barely visible at this point anyways. A light shiver and a muffled whimper later and he was breathing more normally, moving a hand towards his back without really looking over his shoulder; hoping to grab the cold bag himself on the first try, instead of fumbling about for a couple seconds

"Much b-better, thanks; sorry to be a bit of a bother in the end. Though it's still better that I'm the only one hurt here"

He still forgot to actually look over his shoulder and check what his hand was really doing, slightly fumbling about still; letting out a low chuckle to try and free some air.

She helped Abigail to sit down properly in order to have him comfortable. Seeing the faded bruises on his back however was a bit concerning to her. Why did he have so many, and where did they come from? “What’s with all these other bruises, Abigail? Did you hurt yourself helping others like with me?” She didn’t get it, why did a person have to do such a thing to themselves? It was practically self torture for her at any rate.

“And no, you weren’t a bother. You did well for what you had to do.” She said trying to comfort him, all the while guiding his hand to the ice pack by moving it closer to his hand groping aimlessly at his back. This young man was quite puzzling to say the least. To do the things he did all because of a photo and a message on the back. Was that it? Was that what being human was to these people?

He'd done it for more than just a photo and a story, his mom had been an inspiration for him; someone who helped others selflessly just to give others the chance to live well. The mention of the rest of his bruises didn't really bother Abigail, merely causing him to chuckle, having brought back a bit of a goofy memory for him it seems

"Some are, most aren't; the more glaring ones are from when I was younger. had to help my uncle with the lighthouse when he was out at sea, and one day I messed up when putting something on a shelf, and a bunch of stuff kinda tumbled down onto me"

Her little bit of encouragement and comfort did bring that slight spunk of sorts to him, a wide smile plastering itself on his face as he took hold of the pack and carefully kept it in place; but of course, considering what he just said, Abigail slightly shook his free hand infront of himself - making sure to lessen the impact of his shenanigans

"it wasn't that much that fell on me - just boxes of older books and old replacement lightbulb bases; managed to tidy it up before my uncle came back, so kid me managed to hide away the pain by sitting down and watching the waters from the safety of the observation deck"

She couldn’t help but be intrigued. Such a weak man bearing the pain of hiding wounds. It was simply baffling to her why anyone would think that is a good idea. “You’re strange, I’ll give you that.“ She stood up and slowly moved to get the missing Sinigang mix needed to of course make proper sinigang. She cut open a few packets and started to pour the mix into the stockpot.

“Please try not to hurt yourself on my behalf next time. It would be a shame to lose a good medic like you.” She turned back to give him a warm smile, all the while tasting the soup to see if the flavor was right. She decided to add a bit more of the mix alongside some fish sauce to help balance out the flavors of the soup. It was to be ready soon, all it needed was time.

The cook's thoughts weren't exactly unfounded, afterall he WAS a reckless fool - an idiot I believe those were called - that image only complimented by the slight slur on his smile as Amelia very bluntly called him strange to his face (not that he'd deny it, mind you). From there, Abigail took a moment to adjust his shirt so it wouldn't bag up uncomfortably; it wasn't until she focused back on the brew that he'd raise his voice anew

"If I ever need to throw myself into danger to protect you or someone else... what would a medic be worth if they can't see their patient's recovery to the very end."

The young man's voice still carried itself with noticeable aloofness, a small pause between halves of a statement, no question posed at the end; even without saying the words, he was making a promise - to see things through even if it endangers him.

Safe to say, this medicine student in practice almost sounded like anything but a medicine student, speaking of throwing himself into danger for others like some sort of TV Hero; but even with that, the dumb grin on his face only served to punctuate his average existance - afterall, all Abigail Qualle was good at was studying, learning and doing; and with it helping others, He'd have added were this narration be spoken out loud.

Regardless, the food was almost ready, and that's what he'd come here to help with - and uh, social interaction - which meant the time to wallow in oneself's shortcomings and character study was pretty much over

"Afterall, it would be a shame to lose a skilled cook such as yourself"