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[agnominal]

[ There's a perplexed looking young man in view of the screen. Anyone familiar with Locus will probably recognize him, but something's definitely different. That tell-tale x-shaped scar? Gone. His hair is shorter, hanging just below his jaw. Moreover, his eyes don't quite hold that thousand-yard-stare to them just yet.

He looks, well. Teenaged.

He's also holding Luna up to view. She's purring heavily, but he appears bewildered by her presence, if anything. ]

Does anyone know whose cat this is? I just...found her here when I woke up.

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[nofortunateson]

Just hovering feels weird, but once you get up to speed it's pretty great.

Did you solve the mystery of the kitten, yet?

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[agnominal]

She's mine. Her name is Luna.

That explains why she didn't want to leave me alone. That, or the food.

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[nofortunateson]

Could be both.

[He grins, because even if this is crazy, it's absolutely the kind of crazy he can roll with. And there's something reassuring in this particular back and forth, even if Sam's incredulity is a lot less spiny than what he's used to.]

Hey, do you want to grab something to eat?

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[agnominal]

Now you need feeding.

[ Sam almost smirks. That is until his own stomach gives a rumble. Traitor. ]

It doesn't sound like a terrible idea.

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[nofortunateson]

Seriously. I think this superpower stuff burns calories.

[He hitches his backpack up onto his shoulders, not sure what their options are in the way of food but sure it's better than a few energy bars.]

Have you seen any sign of a cafeteria? Anything like that?

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[agnominal]

Not yet. But given the purpose of this place, there ought to be a mess hall here somewhere.

[ Which they won't find by just standing around, that's for certain. ]

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[nofortunateson]

Meet you there?

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[agnominal]

Understood.

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[nofortunateson]

[It takes a little while longer of zooming around to find his way into the station corridors proper, and from there a few rounds of directions to get to the mess hall. Once he's there, he distractedly grabs a tray of whatever looks and smells the least actively offputting, already scanning the room for Sam by the time he gets to the end of the line.]

[agnominal]

[ So. The video wasn't very good at conveying height.

Sam isn't going to be hard to miss. Even lacking the extra muscle that a lifetime of military service had given him, he still towers over most, his eyes trained over their heads to try and catch sight of Gabe. ]

[nofortunateson]

[Wow. Gabe runs into people taller than him enough that it's not too offputting, but Sam. Sam is a wall, and the second he spots him he wonders how it took any time at all to sort him out of the crowd. He waves and makes his way over, grinning.]

And here I thought you just had a really tiny cat.

[agnominal]

[ Sam's brow furrows at once, though yes. He's gotten that look before. At least Gabe's still approaching, and something goes a little lax in his shoulders. ]

That's not untrue.

[nofortunateson]

[It might not be intended as a joke, but it gets a laugh anyway, Gabe nodding his head toward one of the tables.]

Let's grab a seat. I'm pretty curious about some of this food.

[agnominal]

Why is that?

[ Gabe is noticeably allowed to take the lead. Sam? Walks beside him, only slightly behind, anticipating where he means to head. ]

[nofortunateson]

I mean. It's not exactly all burgers and fries up there.

[Not that he hadn't grabbed the closest thing possible, but even then, the sheer variety present has made him suspicious of how familiar his selections are actually going to taste.]

[agnominal]

I've definitely seen worse.

[ Growing up poor? You learn to grow a more tolerant palate. But it's true. The food they're serving up here doesn't look all that bad. Maybe different, but he can handle different. ]

[nofortunateson]

Okay, fair.

[It could absolutely be worse, he has to give him that. Taking a seat in an open section, he looks up - something that stays constant even after Sam sits.]

Where are you from, anyway?

[agnominal]

A lot of places. Madrigal, originally.

[ Which was one of the planets the Covenant glassed so...no one's really from there, anymore.

He doesn't appear bothered, however, reaching for his own food. ]

[nofortunateson]

Wow- Madrigal.

[His eyebrows lift, and for a second he's torn if he should express . . . anything, actually. All he knows about Madrigal is broadcasts and news feeds, the seared-in sense memory of still rooms and tense conversations. It was a place he'd never thought of until it suddenly wasn't, and unless he's made a pretty big move since then . . .

He pokes at his food, finally deciding that the casserole-type thing looks like a good place to start.]

So, uh. Still in the outer colonies, or did you move inward?

[agnominal]

We moved further in, like the rest of the refugees.

[ He gives a light shrug. ]

We were luckier than most. We moved a lot but we had a roof over our heads wherever we went. My mother made sure I got to go to school, or had books to read if there wasn't one around. I know some families that had it worse.

[nofortunateson]

Yeah, I bet.

[He at least has enough sense to intuit that lingering on it is going to make things weird - weirder than their situation already is, even. For all that Sam has been following along, it's easy to take his lead in turn and just be cool about it, and he gives a hint of a smile as he thinks through the last several hours.]

I guess I'm less surprised by how calm you've been through all of this.

[agnominal]

It's all very...weird. Don't get me wrong. But I don't really see how making a fuss is going to change anything.

[ There's a wry quirk at the corner of his mouth. ]

Easier to keep a cool head and see what happens next.