Pagan does hear him in all the ways he needs to, and he nods his head once in acknowledgement. "Eat," he encourages him softly. "I swear to god, I am surrounded by people who don't appreciate good meals." It is not exactly what's happening, but he's trying to lighten the mood. "Ajay never did, either. And look where he ended up. Traipsing through the goddamn jungle."
He gives him a bit of a nudge, but brightens at Lark's mention of meeting with Alec.
"And whose requirement is that? Yours? I seem to be living a lot by what you want, Lark Tennant. Maybe I want to meet with Alec alone again so I can continue to just talk shit about you."
Kiryu will either break whatever tension remains or make things a whole different kind of awkward, because once he starts eating, it's more than a little like a starving dog. The food is going to get scarfed down at an alarming rate, despite the fact that his mouth stays mostly clean and his suit is immaculate.
Someone grew up in an orphanage and spent far too many years in jail and it all very much shows.
Kiryu cleans his plate just in time to look up at the two of them. He’s content to listen to them talk, though. He doesn’t know a Steve, so he doesn’t have much to contribute. He’s going to very slowly reach over for a little more bread.
Pagan reaches an arm around, resting it casually on the back of Kiryu's chair.
"Speaking directly as someone on the other side - I'm not certain. Sometimes you simply must let it happen." He doesn't know if he could have been talked down. Stopped, yes. But he would have found something else to do. Some other way.
"Have you met Steve? Big American? Blonde. Looks like everyone's big, damn hero?" he asks Kiryu.
Pagan actually doesn't mind Steve at all. They simply existed around Lark together. But they couldn't be more different.
He starts to shake his head, and then he pauses as he thinks back. There is a man who matches that description. But that's not the name he gave him.
"I don't think so, no. The only person I've met who sounds like that is Cap-san. He works in the cafeteria for lunch."
He glances at Lark, and he'd intended to bring up his idea for the occasional injection of guest cooks for the food there, but Lark looks a little frustrated and the situation is unfortunate, from everything he's hearing.
He looks to Lark.
"I'm sorry for your friend. It's difficult sometimes, in a normal world, to feel as if you have no way out. Here, I imagine it would be much worse." A dip of his head. "I hope he sees you there for him sooner rather than later."
"That's him. His nickname is Cap. Captain America." He feels a twinge of hope and grinds it under his heel. "He hasn't used it in years, though, as far as I know."
He smirks at Pagan's reaction. "He was made into a superhero during World War II. He was inspirational propaganda personified. But he never saw it that way, I don't think. He wanted to actually live those ideals. He did a damn good job of it."
It's so hard to talk about Steve. He knew the man when he was at his best. He had a hand in tearing that same man down to the angry loner that haunts the ship now.
"Kiryu, if he's calling himself Cap to you, I have to think it's a good sign. Maybe he's begun to believe he can be an inspiration again."
He doesn't. What he does do is refrain from rolling his eyes. He stands up, taking his glass to the kitchen to fill with water so he can sigh in peace. He considers that a step up from where he started.
"I thought that it might be nice if wardens, and inmates who would feel inclined," he's not forgetting them, he just didn't want them to feel pressured, "could help with cooking a dish they happen to know well every so often. The idea was to allow people to share their favorite meals with others, and to increase the variety of dishes occasionally without putting undo strain on the kitchen staff."
"I actually tried to put something like that together a few years ago, when I first started kitchen work. People are surprisingly reluctant to talk about simple pleasures... or maybe because I was an inmate with a reputation, they just didn't want to tell me." He smiles, a little crooked. "You're better at getting quick answers than I am, I think. If you can get people on board I'd be happy to have them."
Lark is physically incapable of getting tired of food, and the thought of a new item sparks his interest immediately. "Of course. What meal do you have in mind?"
"I volunteer to be a taste tester," Pagan says as he returns from the kitchen. Now that they've returned to easier conversation, he can settle back in. "For the good of the Barge. Make sure that it comes out up to the standards we've come to expect."
He holds up a hand. "No need to thank me. That's as far as my altruism extends."
Pagan returns with his arm around Kiryu, lounging in the chair like the goddamn king he was instead of an inmate with two wardens.
"Then it's settled. Anything for a homecooked meal, honestly. As long as it's not my cooking. You missed the New Year party, Kazuma, but - " He shakes his head. "Yunlan and I tried making dumplings and it was an unmitigated disaster. Combine that with the fact that it was during a flood where we couldn't understand each other and, well, you can imagine the results. We managed to come out with something that would make our respective grandparents shudder, but it was edible, at least. So I leave the cooking to others."
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"You realize I am required to have you both spend time with Alec and me next."
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He gives him a bit of a nudge, but brightens at Lark's mention of meeting with Alec.
"And whose requirement is that? Yours? I seem to be living a lot by what you want, Lark Tennant. Maybe I want to meet with Alec alone again so I can continue to just talk shit about you."
He would never.
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Someone grew up in an orphanage and spent far too many years in jail and it all very much shows.
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"I'm taking this as a compliment."
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"You should, honestly."
He picks at his own food, though mostly because his own emotional roller coaster put him off his appetite. Nothing personal.
But then he notices-
"Did Steve move out?"
Pagan has been in 101 since that happened. He has simply not noticed until now.
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"Yes. I used to be able to talk to him, to reason with him, but... what can you do when someone is determined to self-destruct."
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"Speaking directly as someone on the other side - I'm not certain. Sometimes you simply must let it happen." He doesn't know if he could have been talked down. Stopped, yes. But he would have found something else to do. Some other way.
"Have you met Steve? Big American? Blonde. Looks like everyone's big, damn hero?" he asks Kiryu.
Pagan actually doesn't mind Steve at all. They simply existed around Lark together. But they couldn't be more different.
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"I don't think so, no. The only person I've met who sounds like that is Cap-san. He works in the cafeteria for lunch."
He glances at Lark, and he'd intended to bring up his idea for the occasional injection of guest cooks for the food there, but Lark looks a little frustrated and the situation is unfortunate, from everything he's hearing.
He looks to Lark.
"I'm sorry for your friend. It's difficult sometimes, in a normal world, to feel as if you have no way out. Here, I imagine it would be much worse." A dip of his head. "I hope he sees you there for him sooner rather than later."
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"That's him. His nickname is Cap. Captain America." He feels a twinge of hope and grinds it under his heel. "He hasn't used it in years, though, as far as I know."
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Captain. Fucking. America.
Dear god.
He closes his mouth. Says nothing about it. Well, sort of.
"Imagine that," is all he manages.
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"...America has a captain?"
One for the whole country?
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It's so hard to talk about Steve. He knew the man when he was at his best. He had a hand in tearing that same man down to the angry loner that haunts the ship now.
"Kiryu, if he's calling himself Cap to you, I have to think it's a good sign. Maybe he's begun to believe he can be an inspiration again."
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Wholesome.
Pagan wants to stab himself with his fork.
He doesn't. What he does do is refrain from rolling his eyes. He stands up, taking his glass to the kitchen to fill with water so he can sigh in peace. He considers that a step up from where he started.
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"He seemed very lost," he observes quietly, "and very tired." He gestures to the kitchen before he looks back to Lark.
"I mentioned an idea to him, actually, and he said I should speak to you. You work in the kitchen?"
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He doesn't look back at Pagan, preferring to take his absence as a blessing. He saw that expression.
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"If you would allow, I'd be the first contributor."
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"I could make it with chicken or just with vegetables to make sure everyone had an option."
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He holds up a hand. "No need to thank me. That's as far as my altruism extends."
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A quick bow of his head.
“Especially after this meal.”
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"Then it's settled. Anything for a homecooked meal, honestly. As long as it's not my cooking. You missed the New Year party, Kazuma, but - " He shakes his head. "Yunlan and I tried making dumplings and it was an unmitigated disaster. Combine that with the fact that it was during a flood where we couldn't understand each other and, well, you can imagine the results. We managed to come out with something that would make our respective grandparents shudder, but it was edible, at least. So I leave the cooking to others."
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