He represses a shiver, and eyes the bird (Olya) as if weighing the pros and cons of this situation. Eventually he sighs, shakes his head, and turns down the next cross-corridor.
The common room is fairly spartan - chairs, tables, a three-dimensional chess set in one corner, replicators along the far wall. There are a few people there - those who came off shift late, or who wanted to spend their off-hours somewhere with people, rather than in their quarters. McCoy nods to those who greet him, and orders a meal.
There are, to be fair, MREs that look worse.
There are also some that look a fair bit better. There's a reason McCoy orders food gleefully at the bar. Still, food is food, and since it isn't a special day on board ship, there's no hope of fresh stock. So he takes his tray (it's supposed to be lasagna. It's... well. It does the job.) and finds a seat.
no subject
The common room is fairly spartan - chairs, tables, a three-dimensional chess set in one corner, replicators along the far wall. There are a few people there - those who came off shift late, or who wanted to spend their off-hours somewhere with people, rather than in their quarters. McCoy nods to those who greet him, and orders a meal.
There are, to be fair, MREs that look worse.
There are also some that look a fair bit better. There's a reason McCoy orders food gleefully at the bar. Still, food is food, and since it isn't a special day on board ship, there's no hope of fresh stock. So he takes his tray (it's supposed to be lasagna. It's... well. It does the job.) and finds a seat.