Max Black always goes for the money shot. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} money_shot) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} toboldlyrpg, |
Max took a deep breath, shaking off the tension in her shoulders as she moved toward the bar. She wasn't someone to shy away from work, so when the Captain had suggested she look at the Mess Hall as a place to spend some of the now ample amount of time she had on her hands, she'd jumped at it. And, in case anyone was wondering, she didn't feel even a little bit bad about telling a little white lie... It wasn't her fault that stupid Chef Nicholas had dropped everything to return to his wife in France and shut down the school before she got a chance to graduate.
Still, kitchen work (even if it was baking, which she loved) wasn't easy, especially if she couldn't partake of her usual ways of relieving stress. The doctors had confiscated the small amount of weed she'd had on her when she showed up, her candy cane shaped vibrator was still in her bedroom drawer in Brooklyn, and she didn't know enough people on board yet to figure out if anyone would be down for a no-strings hook up. She didn't normally drink (she'd seen too many girls incapacitated by drink over the years) but if that was all that was available to her, then damnit, she'd take it.
She slid onto a barstool and waited for the bartender to acknowledge her before placing her order for something 'fruity but alien-y'. After all the years she'd spent serving, she knew better than to just shout at someone who was handling your food and drink.