Welcome to Gaia! ::

"DON'T TOUCH THE MEAT." Robert roared, slapping away the hands of the hunter that had snuck into the kitchen while he was using it, looming over him angrily until he shrunk away and left him in peace. He'd been given ten minutes break. TEN MINUTES. There was no time to run home and create one of his masterpieces, as well as eat it before he had to return to the Infirmary. He'd been reduced to sneaking into the common kitchen, and putting together whatever her could. So far the pickings had been slim, and old. He was going to have indigestion tonight, he just knew it - but better this, than eat nothing at all.

Except people kept trying to come in and steal what he made, and no one touched Robert's food. He'd snapped at two hunters, slapped the last one, and actually picked up a scavenger who'd succeeded at sneaking away with half of the sandwich. Said scavenger was upside down in a garbage pail two rooms ********' think you assholes ain't never ate before, can't a guy make a goddamn sandwich in peace? Next guy who touches my meat gets a fist in the face I DON'T CARE WHO IT IS." The last part he yelled, hoping everyone in the vicinity could hear him. Everyone in the building could have heard him.

"I SAID DON'T-" Dawson was inches away from getting a pummel, when Robert realized he wasn't trying to steal any of his ingredients, or the half-finished product. He eyed the hairnetted man up and down, before shrugging off the aggression and shaking his head. It was just a hunter on kitchen duty, unless he was using that as a ruse to steal Robert's precious sandwich. He kept his eye on Dawson.

"Nah. I mean, I don't know, I don't work here. I kicked the last guy out because he kept trying to tell me he should make my sandwich and I was like, listen bro, listen, nobody makes my sandwiches but me." Robert yawned, the exhaustion of a 12 hour shift catching up with him, and his entire body turned back towards making the sandwich that would fuel him for another eight before he could finally sleep. "******** trying to mess with my noms get the boot." He grumbled, carefully separating layers of cheese. Then he realized, the hunter did work here for the current shift, and Robert eyed him warily.

"You ain't gonna try to kick me out too, are you?" Oh Dawson, please say no.

As soon as Dawson admitted he wasn't a threat, Robert's face stretched into a giant, goofy smile, and he smacked the man right on the shoulder. "Thatta boy!" He coo'd out, moving out of his way so Dawson could enter the kitchen and get to work.

"I ain't gonna keep you from doing your job, come on in. What's your name? I'm Robert! I never saw you around here before - " He lifted the bologna up and patted his cheek with it thoughtfully. "Hum, come to think of it I don't see much of anybody no more. It's always work then home then work then home, you know. Do we even do them missions anymore? Well ******** me, of course we do, duh Robert." The bologna slapped him over the head. "I'm fixing up you assholes every day in the Infirmary, where the ******** do I think they're getting hurt if you're not all out there doing your job! GOOD JOB BRO. Keep up the good work!"

Of course, Dawson was just doing kitchen duty, and there was nothing threatening about that.

(Except him.)

"You want me to make you a sandwich? It doesn't take much time to make two when you're already making one." He eyed the clock, and then sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "******** it, they can live without me for a while. You know they only gave me ten minutes? ******** Jason making the time shifts. ******** YOU JASON!"

He threw the bologna at the direction the Infirmary was, and it smacked loudly against the wall. Then he turned around again, and grinned that happy, goofy grin.

"So. Sandwich?"

"Any allergies? 'Cause when I make 'em, I make the works." He was already laying down another sub, slicing it in half and slathering it completely in mayo.

"They don't have much of a choice at this point. Most of the people down there, you know, they're the kids who come for shifts because it's part of the job. They don't know what they're doing. We've got a really small number of us registered nurses, been doing this s**t so long. Even smaller number of actual doctors. I think, like, three? s**t, somebody's got to be in charge all the time and they just don't have enough trained people to do it."

He began to slide cheese in perfect quarters, making sure to cover every inch of the bread. "But it keeps me busy. I just wish I had more time to spend at home with the wife." His face softened when he thought of her, and the sandwich making slowed. "God, I wish I had time to go home for lunch today. I miss her."

There was a long, almost awkward silence, as Robert daydreamed about Mimsy while haphazardly flopping different meats onto the sandwiches evenly. He shook himself out of it a little too late for it to not be weird, and returned his gaze to the man with a lopsided smile. "You never told me your name! I can't feed you if I don't know your name, bro."

"BAHA!" Robert smacked him hard on the back, and piled the sandwich gloriously with every kind of meat he had on hand. "That's what I like to hear!" The sandwich began to take shape, until finally he placed down another layer of cheese, topped it with tomato, and closed them both with a sigh.

"Breaks my heart to have to do this when I can't get home and use my own ingredients. Breaks. My. Heart." He sounded truly distraught, even as he cut the sandwiches in half and slid them into the toaster oven.

Then the agony vanished, and Robert's attention was fully on Dawson while the sandwiches toasted. "Life Hunter here. Twitter's crazy. Like, god daaamn. You're gonna rub a hole in that counter, by the way." He laughed, and the booming sound reverberated off of the pots and pans.

"Dawson, you look like a beer drinking man. You drink a good beer every once in a while?"

"Good man. I haven't gotten sloshed in months. Used to sneak up behind some stairs with my best pal Jordan and a six pack, back in the day." He heard the toaster oven beep, and pulled them out to check. The very edges of the bread were brown and crisp, and all of the cheese had melted against the meat. Just right.

"Yeah, we grow some good stuff over in our greenhouse, mostly tomatoes and greens, I got some nice bell peppers coming in. You know, the good stuff."

He pressed the sandwiches closed with a knife, and handed Dawson his. "The rest I just buy when I go out, or Mimsy gets when she goes out. We got a pretty sweet system for keeping our food fresh. Comes with the perks of building your own house I guess." He shrugged, and poked hesitantly at his sandwich. It looked good, but..

"God, my number one? That's hard man, I love a good italian, but probably my favorite is black forest ham and brie. Get some olive oil and a little mustard going, shiiit."

He finally took an enormous bite of his sandwich, and made a non-committal noise. It wasn't one of his best creations, but with what he had, it would do.