is this even food??, chit-chat among a table

[Assassin- 362]

Neon, or more commonly known as Assassin, had just finished his usual morning routine, running the trail, going through the obstacle course, hitting the showers, and going over to the Mess Hall for his breakfast. That is, if you can call it 'breakfast', "Oh, joy, flavorless eggs with paper bacon, this has to be my lucky day," Assassin said sarcastically to the guys at the table while he set his tray down and took his seat. "How long have I been here and still I'm not used to the food they serve us!"

Assassin picked his fork up and poked the yoke to release the fluid and pored it over his bacon. Most people never understood why he does this, but to him it seems to add some amount of flavor to something on his plate. He stabbed the bacon and brought it up to his mouth to begin trying to rip it apart. After a few attempts Assassin finally got a small chunk off and consumed it, "It's like it's as thin as paper and yet it stretches like rubber," He gave up and went for the eggs. As soon as he tried to lift it up with his fork, the egg just flopped over back on the plate. Assassin tried it a couple more times than switched over to his spoon, but soon found that impossible as well, "..... This isn't working, and I'm not going to have any of the coffee, I don't think they even try to make it taste like coffee,"

[Eridanis--113]

"True. It tastes more like engine oil."
The few marines that were there made way for a hulking form of Eridanis--113 as she took a seat opposite of Assassin; her helmet in place and firearms strapped between her shoulderblades. To a marine, a Spartan in full battle gear wasn't a human at all-- more like some greek god/goddess that stepped straight out of a book.
Why she was in a Mess Hall anyways was a question many brought up with their comrades; Eris had never taken off her helmet or even stepped out of her armor into Civvie clothing. If she wanted to eat, the Spartan would get her food, return to her quarters, and eat there.

A bit off-handedly, she drew a rather nasty-looking combat knife to poke at the bacon that flopped off the side of the Helljumper's plate; her silvery visor masking any facial expressions Eris may have made.
A normal Spartan's height generally reached up to Seven feet tall in armor, so it was kind of obvious why the typical Marine tended to shy away from their presence-- they already looked intimidating due to their armor and faceless quality given by the visor.

[Assassin- 362]

Assassin silently sat there and watched as the Spartan poked the bacon and straightned his back, "Ma'am" he said, raising his hand to salute Eris. He wasn't all too used to the look of the MJOLNIR Armor himself and he couldn't help but wonder what a Spartan was doing here.

A sudden growl sounded out of no where and Assassin tried as hard as he could to not laugh, "Bad thing is, I seem to be hungery this morning,"
He used his fork again and dug the edge of it into the albumen, pulled it apart and managed to keep it balenced. The moment he got the small piece egg into this mouth his stomach growled even louder and Assassin winced, allowing the corners of his lips curve up. After swallowing he sighed and snickered a little. He took a few more bites the same way until he got to the point where his stomach could stay quiet. "So," Assassin said, "how was your morning?" he didn't really have a reason to ask; He just felt the need say something to Eris, normally he wouldn't mind the silence, but for some reason it was getting to him this time.

[Eridanis--113]

Eris' eyebrow arched under her visor at Assassin's offhanded query; leaning her helmeted head on one of her arms, while her shoulders heaved in a sigh. An unseen grimace graced her features under the helmet.
"The usual-- Mendez pushing us hard with the Trail Run, Core, etc. Heck, I even got a dusting down for 'not being part of a team'."
It was the same routine every day. Trainer-in-Chief Mendez always found some little thing to pick at that she did wrong during training; almost as if he delighted in alienating her from the main fold of the Spartan members. It was a psychological battle of wills, so to speak, between her and the trainers. Eris, however was fairly childish with this sort of thing... She hated to lose.
Worst of all, the Master Chief (A Spartan himself) had come during his own leisure to watch the Second Generation Spartans train during weapons practice.

The story was known to pretty much everyone now.
Eris had taken the time to set a highly intricate trap, working independantly from the main mass of Spartans-- carefully making a web of tripwires, mines, and stunguns with live rounds... Mendez, thinking it was best to show off his skills, went head-to-head with Eridanis--113. Eris on one side, fully armored with the bloody prints across her armored body, various weapons strapped to her sides; Mendez on the other side, face contorted in a soundless snarl of rage with an Assault Rifle in hand.
He bumbled into her trap and ended up in critical condition, carted away by the field medics as the Black Spartan stood off to the side and watched with amusement.

[Assassin- 362]

Assassin leaned back slightly, "That sounds like fun," he said sarcaticlly. He ran his hand through his black faided hair and let out a light sigh, "You know what Mendez was getting onto you for today?" He listened to the echo in his mind and felt as if he asked that a little mockingly, he just hope it didn't. Assassin may be a Helljumper, but he was getting too old to risk getting into a fight. Much less with a Spartan, he dosen't need another scare like the one he has on the left side of his face.

A couple decades ago Assassin had gotten into an argument that grew into a fight with another Helljumper. It was about what their orders said to go, the way HQ had phrased confused them and around half thought one way and the rest thought the other. Unfortuneatly, a Helljumper that Assassin had gotten mixed up with earlier was throwing the blame on him. Soon push turned to shove and a huge fight broke between the two, no armor, no weapons, just hand-to-hand. At one point the other Helljumper pulled out a hidden knife and lunged toward Assassin, cutting deeply into the entire left side of his face; starting half an inch above his cheek bone down to past his lips. Eventually thay found out that the other Helljumper was right all along, an even now when thay ever meet he gives Assassin crap for it.

[Eridanis--113]

"What's with the look? Your tastebuds finally got enough of this garbage?"

Eris grinned under her helmet, a slightly teasing tone added to her query. No surprisingly, she had nothing to fear from her joshing around in this manner-- she could hold her own against the strongest of men; In her suit or out of it.
Not that she wanted to fight, of course.

Rather idly, she picked a glass of water off the plate of a passing Marine and began carefully cleaning her knife with it; drawing out a rather sodden rag from her belt to wipe the polished steel free of the rancid egg yolk from Assassin's plate.