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The armoured giant turned to Quinn, the sunlight glinting off the scale patterns on his armour. "Here." He pulls out a standard issue Legiones Astartes MRE kit. "It's not much, but it will do."

" Here catch " Eric toss Neeva a breakfast bar.

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Holds out a few protein sticks to Eric “Sorry, spacer diets are boring…”

The skyttrki cyborg regarded Barrah for a thoughtful moment, pedipalps stroking their tucked-up fangs. Then, placing a robotic hand over a sensor on their prosthetic harness, they instructed the vocabulator embedded there to speak on their behalf in a gruff masculine voice. "You seem to be no stranger to eating for utility. Be thankful I can't offer you my native cuisine," he joked near-deadpan. "Not without a sealed vessel to make up for the absence of silk glands, at least. I've noticed it to be offensive to those with olfactory senses and mammalian taste buds. Living as a mercenary has made me reliant on commercial nutrient paste anyway... Which I've had to share on occasion. I've picked up a few techniques for improving the flavour for those with a full sense of taste, though I'm unable to comment on them myself. Perhaps you'd be partial to some of my nutrient paste recipes? It should be more preferable to you than basic protein sticks. That is, if you're not the kind to dislike the very texture of nutrient paste. But I'm afraid my species can't consume solid food, so paste is all I have."

". . . aha!"

The Viera raised a clawed finger before reaching into his pouch. From it, he removes what looked like a triangular leap-wrapped item.

"It is Jón," he explained, presenting it before them. "Is not good much as my mate's, but is nice, no? Is rice, olive, and egg. Is make with raw egg and it make food sticky. It keep much long time. Is good for hunter. You can making mash, because you is <spider>-" He used the Ravanese word. "-and drink food."

He unfolded the heliconia leaves to display the bright yellow, sticky mixture of food within. It's set down plainly so the creature could reach.

"Please enjoying. Not starving!"

There was only silence, Jorge stared for a moment, not moving.

Then they went into their inventory and pulled out a potato, "Potato."

Sarait turned, a vaguely surprised look on her face. Damn it. I thought I was alone. A small honey cake was clutched in her hand, though she managed to wrap it in a handkerchief and tuck it into her dress pocket in one smooth movement. For later, she thought. Sarait glanced at the tray behind her. A dozen of the yellowish cakes lay on a tray, fresh out of the enormous clay oven, their sticky, syrupy tops still goopy and steaming from the heat. "Well, you want something, then. Mehgr? It's a little honey loaf made with rosemary and almond flour." She pulled out a plate, and set one on top. "There. Or I can call someone, and see what else we have. But don't tell anyone about this, please?"

"Oh my little stars-" Gigi gasped slightly, her eyes widening. She was surprised- confused even- as to how the woman standing before her had gotten to....well, here. She was certainly a far way from home.

Remembering how unladylike it was to gawk, Gigi diverted her attention briefly. Her glowing, blue eyes flickered to a spot above the strangers shoulder before rising to remeet her face. A pearly smile slid through the robots red lips. Quickly, her air would go from confused, to poised. "Forgive me, I don't get many visits from your-" What? Kind? That is a bit straightforward isn't it? "I don't get many visitors." She claimed, backpedaling.

There was need for a quick change of subject. "You must be absolutely famished after traveling all the way up here just to see me." She said, waving the woman over- though the impromptu meeting was (absolutely) likely unintentional. But the woman was in Gigi's presence, therefore making her a guest. The old star was self-centered, certainly, but she still tried to be hospitable when patience allowed. To save face, if anything.

"Lucky you, I just put some cookies in to bake." By just, she really meant she had put them in fifteen minutes ago and had forgotten about them. Such was proven by an ominous trail of black smoke which crept along the ceiling, like a cloud of little spiders.

Gigi ignored the sign however, and disappeared from view. Out of sight, she called to her guest. "Why don't you just go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I will be back in two shakes of a lambs tail."

Despite being well aware of what awaited, Gigi still regarded her baking failure with shock. Oh how disappointed she was when she let go of any false senses of hope, and revealed the baking sheet. Where there should have been fluffy rounds of golden cookies, were about a dozen little lumps of coal.

A clatter of dishes being thrown harmonized with the unmistakable drop of an f-bomb. How dare things not go her way.

Refusing to accept defeat, Gigi, determined as ever, arranged each charcoal briquette onto one of her finest pieces of china.

With some shame, Gigi returned and presented the sad excuse of confectioneries to her guest. Maybe the woman would like the taste of charcoal? "Better not let them go to waste now. They're better when they're still warm." Way to sell it. "And if for whatever reason you find them a little too... hard, I have some tea. If you swish them around they'll soften right up."

Mmm. Soggy charcoal. Scrumptious.

((Love your style! Wanna rp with me?))

"I don't have any cooking experience myself, but I can make a good burger," A toneless-sounding woman's voice said from behind Gigi.

As she turned to meet Cyphrus, she saw that it was holding two plates, both containing a cheeseburger and a handful of potato chips. It offered one to Gigi, smirking a little. "Just don't ask what the meat is."

"Um... do you eat?" She asked a little worrriedly. Regardless of the answer, she still produced a nice meal; a plate of smothered pork chops, mashed potatoes, and seasoned green beans. She couldn't make a simple snack if someone was truly hungry. She offered the plate with a smile. "Here you go."

The feline was seen darting back and forth with no real rhyme or reason to the bursts of energy and the manic sprints he thrust himself into. Balthazar then batted viciously at something small and greyish in color while skidding wildly across the floor. The tiny figure being swatted appeared to flee from the cat's onslaught only to be apprehended again, but this time within the feline's own maw.

Proud and puffing, the tuxedo cat strode toward blonde with the pomposity of a successful businessman and dropped his catch before her.

Laying at the single mother's feet was a small, stuffed mouse presented as though it were the feast of the ages and it's prideful hunter awaiting praise for being a worthy provider.

Big Blue's dark, muscular figure emerged from the murky depths, water streaming down her body. That wasn't all, however; trickles of red also dripped down, its source from a grey lump she dragged around. It had a bite mark or two, seemingly from Blue's own treacherous jaws, of which she took much pride in. She was careful to keep as much of her little lump retained as possible. Speaking of, it is then deposited unceremoniously onto the ground with a loud, wet slap as it rolled over-

Oh. Oh, that's a seal pup. A very dead seal pup.

It was her subspecies' favorite prey, so Blue figured to target one of the local rookeries to share. Share what? Why, the deliciousness of a fatty, energy-rich meal, of course! Suitably, she found smaller prey for the smaller beast.

Blue eyed the tiny, fuzzy creature and she gave a horrible grimace with her many rows of sharp teeth. Or perhaps, not so horrible to some. Was she. . . smiling?

". . . EAT. . . LI. . . LIT. . . TLE. . . ONE. . ." She kneeled down, raising a hand with a palm upwards to let the cat have a sniff. A display of passiveness; friendship, even. ". . . F. . . FOR. . . R. . . YOU. . ."

Hands Blue a mouse and sits bored looking around for a good meal.

Without so much as missing a beat Sova skitters off into the dence forest shrubbery. Upon her return, shortly thereafter, it is apperent that she is carrying a number of things. She crouches before the little creature, as her large hands spread out her offerings upon a somewhat clean patch of moss. There lays a small, freshly caught trout, what once might have been a whole rabbit and a handful of various bits she'd foraged, among them hazlenuts, rosehips and bits of dried mushroom. She wasn't quite sure what such a strange little lizard might wish to eat, if anything, but was observing it with great interest.

Among the warming sights and captivating scents was Bailey, seated next to the roaring campfire on a log, stirring an iron pot hanging directly over top. She was oddly fixated on whatever she was in the middle of mixing together, but whatever it was it smelled absolutely delightful.

Her gaze turned up to Sova, an innocent little grin stretching onto her features. "Supper's ready! C'mon, sit down!"

Readjusting her glasses, she rises up from her log and gestures to another one for the snowbeast to sit down. Bailey turns away to grab two wooden bowls- one for Sova, one for herself. From there, Bailey reached for the ladle she was using to stir, scooping as much of the stew into the bowls as possible without spilling.

The scruffy-haired shapeshifter hands a full bowl of stew over. Its broth was a striking red in colour (likely tomato-based), and among the contents floating in it were mushrooms, chopped carrots, diced potatoes, and some type of wild game. There had to be some types of aromatic herbs in there, too, if the little green specks were anything to go off of.

"Just be careful, okay? It's hot," Bailey commented, settling down with a bowl of her own. "Go ahead and dig in!"

The large vulture lands next to the human that smelled funny. Beady orange eyes stared at Bailey until he coughed up a mouse mostly intact and threw it into her lap with a head bob and his tail feathers wiggling.

" I'm not sure if you're speices eat pasta, but you can have some of this leftover spaghetti and meatballs from dinner last night. " Zoey said as she placed a container with the leftover infront of the bird " With a family like mine I shock that leftovers even exists in my house "

"Here we are!"

His thick green tail swaying with each step, Ganzigg sauntered over, holding a stewpot with oven mitts. Aromatic steam wafted from the pot with the distinct scent of garlic hailing from it. It's set down on the lengthy table with a gentle 'thunk'.

"Boiled cockatrice," Ganzigg announced with a grin that bore his tusks. "Served in a tomato-based sauce with San d'Orian carrots, tender coral fungus, ginger, and garlic I've brought straight from Mhaura. Salted to perfection! You'll love it. Have a bowl! Consider it a free sample of the foods we serve at the Mandragora's Head Inn."

A cheeky wink followed!

"Oh, and I've got coffee put on, as well as Iron Bread in the oven that's almost ready. Traditional Galkan fare! Good to soak up the sauces with. So, go on, dig in!"

Strange creature. It must be some kind of spirit. I don't know much about spirits, but people often feed them rats imbued with magic.

I'll at least cook it a little before giving it to them.