Between Feedings (Open)

[Sister Angeleanna]

The smell of fermenting garbage and dish soap had an oddly dizzying aroma as the tall nun bent over the stainless steel sink, elbow deep in dirty dishes. A thin line of perspiration beaded atop her brow beneath the starched white cowl as she rinsed off the last tray and placed it atop a rack with other trays and slid it across the span of the counter and into the dishwasher. The room instantly was drowned out as the machine clicked on, the high power spray reverberating inside the metal doors. Pulling off the plastic gloves, Angeleanna untied the plastic apron that covered her habit and tossed it into the dirty pile of rags before shoving everything into a trash bag. These needed to get over to the housecleaning as soon as possible before the next rush of people came into the dinning room.

“Sister!”

The nun straightened and glanced over her shoulder at the lead matron of the kitchen and smiled. “Good morning, Miss Emma.”

“Sister, please.” The elderly woman with graying hair bustled her thick frame into the dish room and forcibly pulled bag from Angel’s hands. “This is work for the kitchen folk, not an agent.” She cut off any retorts with a stern look and healthy push towards the door. “Out with you ma’am, this is no place for a nun.”

“Yes, but-“ Angeleanna sighed before allowing herself to be lead through the kitchen and back towards the dinning room. She rolled the heavy sleeves of her habit down, undoing the ties she had placed just above her elbow. “All right, Miss Emma.” The conceding look she gave the woman wilting away from the furrowed deep lines across her brow and she smiled, if a bit grumpily. After promising she would stay out of the kitchen for the rest of the day unless it was in need of food, the nun shook her head quietly as she entered the cafeteria.

Much like the days of her childhood, tables and chairs were scattered like misshapen roving cattle along the odd faded green linoleum floor. In between meals, the cafeteria was oddly quiet. There was the occasional agent grabbing a snack or hauling back a couple cups of coffee but the chaotic hysteria of feeding hundred of hungry agents still remained in the ears of the nun. That was her reasoning for being in the kitchen, in the lines she had noticed the kitchen staff were short a few people and a kitchen could become awfully busy in a short period of time. Fixing the edge of her sleeve, Angeleanna crossed the cafeteria to find a cup of coffee and an apple if there was anything left.

[krauss]

"Guten Tag." He would say in brief greeting, before stopping and turning, having heard the exchange only barely.

"Restless are we?" He would ask, of course his deep German accent being recognizable. There was a touch of amusement in it, but of course she couldn't see the face behind it...since there wasn't one. All she would see was the walking containment suit with the misty aura that was Dr. Johann Krauss and likely would be forever. Despite the fact that this was only a sort of vessel for him, it stood with his rigidity and posture. He would rest his hands behind his back as he stood.

Of course he would have made sure to know who his fellow agents were, that was always important to team interaction. But while he might've found it recognizable due to her appearance, he could admit he hadn't seen anyone else with that title here. Normally those were te sorts who avoided this sort of organization...raised too many questions with them he supposed. Maybe it was the fact that one of their own was pretty much hell spawn...

[Sister Angeleanna]

Bushy brows rose up in slight surprise at the strongly accented voice directed towards her. At least, it looked at that way. The old fashion looking scuba suit was facing her and the milling agents walked around the two towards the snack bar in the quest to subside their hunger till the next meal. The nun bowed her head, and her folded hands appeared from behind the black cloth that draped over the front of her habit. She had met with the doctor a few times but each time she was drawn to the oddly curious looking suit. The Bureau was always filled the oddly curious, she amongst one of them, but the doctor’s containment suit deserved to be praised. It was too fantastical to believe nothing short of sleepless months of careful craft went into it.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Krauss.” Angel smiled, exposing a thin line of ivory teeth. “Restless?” She sighed and returned with a look of guiltiness. “A little, I’m used to a life of service. I’m only graciously thankful that I can help in any small way.” She peered into the helmet, mesmerized by the thick contained cloud of smoke and the little gears and wheels that moved about. “How are you doing this wonderful day? Would you care to join me in a cup of coffee and some conversation?” Though she was hesitant in asking, for fear of offending, she wasn’t sure if she had ever seen the doctor eat or drink.

The nun smiled again. “I can strike up one great conversation.”

[Frankie Guidicini]

When Frankie ate, she made sure it was after the rush in the dining hall. She didn't like to socialize with people outside of her team and those in her department. Most would think her snobby or arrogant, and she didn't care. She wasn't there to be liked or to impress anyone. Today she sat at a corner table, back rigidly straight, book in one hand and fork in the other. The golden lettering along the spine of the book read, "The Blitz in London." Her eyes were the only thing that moved, the food on her fork obviously forgotten because of her immersion in the book. Looking at Frankie, one would think she was a young lady, maybe just out of college. The truth was that she was living in her third century. She was not three-hundred years old, but had seen the nineteenth, twentieth, and now twenty-first century. She was...unimpressed. Certainly, the program Family Guy was delightful, but the twenty-first century was so dirty and polluted compared to the world Frankie had known. But then again, the world was become more polluted every day.
Frankie's chestnut locks spilled over her shoulders, neatly and tidily pulled from her face. Today she wore a navy colored dress, skirt long enough to hide her feet and sleeves reaching her wrists. Her mouth and the corners of her eyes bore no wrinkles from signs of joy or happiness, and her expression was one of resolution, to what, no one knew. Her copper colored eyes flew along the lines of the pages, and finally, she closed the book having finished it. She set her fork down and stabbed at her now cold meatballs and pasta. With a faint crinkling of her brow in amusement, she remembered how her father worked so hard to find a cook that could make proper Italian cuisine like his Mama used to in London. It was no use, and he ended up making it mostly himself, with Frankie helping badly. She remembered trying to teach Stella, her daughter, to make homemade noodles...And all that ended in was a flour fight when Stella's father came home that day. Acting as though a pang of pain had ran through her, Frankie pushed the pasta away and looked up at the occupants of the dining hall.
The Nun, Angel was there, as well as Johan Krauss. If they looked at her, she would nod at them, but afterwards she looked back down to her food. It wasn't exactly in character for her to smile and invite them to her table. If they did on their own vocation, she would not object, and if they didn't, she would just thumb her way through the book once more until she felt the need to vacate the dining room. There were plenty of empty chairs at her table.

[krauss]

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" He would ask, when it came to body language, he was pretty decent at being able to decipher it. Did he come too suddenly and surprise her? She didn't seem to mind much, so he didn't think any more of it. He was sure they had met before, and luckily he was one of the agents who actually checked the dossier with the roster and could associate her appearance with her name; regardless of how many times they'd met.

There were times like this that he missed being able to have a visible smile, it was semi-awkward when you couldn't return one. He wasn't sure if it were his own stereotypical views of her appearance or if it were meant to be so, but to him it was a warm smile. He noticed her expression and would say in the same amused tone, "It can be very productive, and wanting to help is an admirable thing. I myself enjoy digging into that wealth of information we have." Eye contact went a long way, regardless of whether you had visible eyes or not. At her question of his well being he would chuckle lightly and say, "I am well, very well actually. And yourself?"

He was sure that with the rate he was working, some time for coffee wouldn't slow him down. Even if he didn't need to drink anymore, it wouldn't stop him from spending some time to get to know another agent. Now according to her Dossier, she had some knowledge of the paranormal, alot actually, not to mention an interesting lineage. It was very impressive to him, and they would have plenty to talk about. In fact, he was curious about her, so this was the perfect oppurtunity to learn more. "I'd be delighted, thank you."

[Sister Angeleanna]

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

His accent wasn’t as nearly undecipherable as she previously thought. In fact, it was downright pleasant and only reminded of her German blooded Sisters when they chatted, each voice thick with heritage vying for dominance over the conversation and yet there was no fighting amongst them. Occasionally they would stop, mutter something and then they would all laugh and continue on. Angel was smiling again, momentarily lost in the happy thought before shaking her head slowly. “Heavens no, Doctor.” She had a fleeting air of surprise that someone had spoke to her directly. Sadly, a few agents seemed to be put off by her status and wardrobe but curious stares from afar had become the norm and she could not fault them. Even in her younger years she stared, fascinated by the elder nuns of her days in grammar school.

Giving her hands one last wring of soap suds that she missed, she straightened the single band of gold on her ring finger as it had a habit of sliding loose with kitchen duties. “I’m afraid I have not given the proper time to explore your Bureau as I suitably should. I did manage to find your library, a wonderful man by the name of…” The nun paused, steepling her fingers as she sought for a name amongst the literally hundreds that were given her. “Mr. Sapien. He lent me a few books on the archaic rede of Ásatrú during it’s Germanic polytheism time in the tenth century. A heavy read but extremely informative.”

The light and slightly hollow sounding laughter that emitted from the glass helmet made the nun’s smile widen. “I’m quite well, thank you.” Angel focused her attention on the swirling smoke. “Your Bureau has been exceptionally kind to me and I am humbled to be liaison to your workings. Mother Superior has been forthright in maintaining anonymity with the public about the Catholic church’s presence and, well… it’s comforting to know we’re not the only ones keeping the innocent safe.”

"I'd be delighted, thank you."

Clasping her hands together at her waist, Angeleanna bowed her head again. “I was just about to grab a cup of coffee, is there anything you’d like?” At his answer, the nun swept away towards the nearby counter and stared at the stainless steel container, bubbling with freshly brewing coffee and briefly debated on waiting for the rich smell or the much easier and better for her nerves, hot tea. She grabbed a cup and filled it with hot water, plucking a single packet of raspberry tea from a basket and turned to look over her shoulder at the plethora of empty tables. Her eyes fell upon the lonely soul of Francesca and she was instantly pulled in her direction. Grabbing another cup of hot water, she pulled a pack of Earl Grey and a couple of packets of sugar and she picked the two mugs up and made her way back to the Doctor,

“I’ve always been one for company, would you mind?” The nun was already walking towards the young woman, cheerfully calling out a greet. “Good afternoon Miss. Francesca, you looked like you could do with a cup of tea.” She set a cup down followed with the stash of sugar and tea before her hands around hers. The warmth quickly spread along her palms as she looked down at the seated youngster. Angel only knew her by name and several warnings from random passing agents to stay clear of the ‘wild one’. She wasn’t the least bit deterred in knowing Francesca Guidicini. “May we sit with you?”

[Frankie Guidicini]

Frankie looked back up from her book as the nun and fish-bowl helmeted man approached her. "Hello, Sister." She greeted Angel, nodding once. She turned to Johann and said into perfectly smooth German, "Guten Tag, Herr Krauss. Wie gehts sie? Fur mich, es geht mir gut."

"May we sit with you?" The nun asked.

"Of course." Frankie said, nodding again. "I've no objection." She flipped the cover of the book face down and set her cold pasta and meatballs on a nearby bussing cart. True, she didn't have an objection. These were people within her own area of skill, and though she had only been back at the American BPRD for a short time, she had seen them in passing, read their dossiers, and familiarized themselves with their faces or lack thereof.

"It's turning out to be a bit of a quiet afternoon, I see." Frankie accepted the second cup from Angeleanna. "Thank you." Earl Grey -- Was it intuition perhaps that caused the nun to grab that tea bag? Frankie could only wonder. "As for both of you, how are you?" There we are. Frankie was civil and hadn't been negative or cynical and had actually made what passed for a decent conversation! Good on her.