[mess hall small talk]

Jan 31, 2009 09:45

[It is one of those lonely hours when the mess hall is all but deserted -- a little past night but not quite yet awake into morning. There is none of the usual lively chaos. Any who might be wandering in and out, even if their paths cross, somehow only make each other look incredibly alone. While it had not been a dark night, the weak dawn shining through the mist seems sad, somehow, and the lighted mess hall has a curious sense of isolation to it.

Suddenly, the quiet is shattered by what sounds like many gunshots, all fired in unison. And if that gets your attention, you might next be drawn to the large bloodstain on one of the walls inside of the mess hall, very fresh and dripping slowly to the floor.

It seems like an interesting topic of conversation, does it not? Hopefully, you were not desiring to converse with any blond French revolutionaries on the subject, because that would not be possible; he's nowhere to be found.]

I just came here for a snack, I swear. Hey, we got French toast on the menu for today.

[...or you could always talk about French toast, too.]

((OOC: OP is only kind-of here, but will continue to be ish, in an in-and-out-manner, throughout the day. Make some small talk with your neighbor!))

((ETA Noon EST: And I'm off to work! I'll try to pick up a reply here and there, and I'll get back to things when I'm back home. In the meanwhile, chat up it up!))
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