Evanthe avoided the mess hall food when she could. The stuff tasted vile and the texture was enough to make her gag. However, there were many times when she just had to sit down and deal with it, and that day was one of those days.

She grabbed a tray and a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread that she hoped was as hard as it was because it was toasted. Food in hand, she wandered around the mess hall and looked for an open seat. When she found one, she plopped into her chair without looking to see who was sitting in front of her until she’d already settled in her seat.

Oh. Well it would be rude to move now.

It wasn’t that she thought Abbott was a bad person, but it was difficult to feel all warm and fuzzy toward someone who was your drill instructor for years. Intellectually, she knew he was just doing his job, and being disliked was part of it, but emotions were funny little things when memories were attached to them. Still, she wasn’t going to fling her food at him like she might have when she was eighteen. She’d been through worse things than a mean drill instructor since then.

She made herself smile, using years of experience of filching free drinks from lonely men to make it genuine, “Good afternoon, sir,” she said, “I see you’re also sampling the fine food of the mess hall.”

The man looked up from the food, or whatever you'd like to call it, when someone sat down opposite of him. He recognised Curran. He had been her drill instructor back when she was eighteen, and the woman has done great things since. She had been in Coheed, and of course he knew the tragedy that had occured there. Her partner had lost his leg. The story had almost gone unnoticed with the ball happening around the same time. While she had witnessed another traumatic event, she was lucky that she had missed the situation in the throne room. He didn't have any negative or positive feelings towards her. She had become an officer during her career, and he respected anyone that climbed the ranks.

"Good afternoon, Officer Curran", he responded kindly. While he didn't smile, his voice was friendly. Like mentioned previously, he didn't feel any particular way about her and things outside of the military had caused him to be in a good mood, which effected his behaviour during his working hours. "I sure am. Why could say no to such a delicious and appetising food?" He poked around his plate and lifted his fork. "I think this is a carrot. What a treat!"

It was amazing how differently you were talked to when you weren’t being trained for anything. Not that she’d expected him to be an asshole to her, but much like maneuvers, the expectation of being yelled at hadn’t yet faded. As a result, a pleasant sort of surprise filled her which made her amused laugh that much more genuine.

She looked at the brown lump that he’d lifted with his fork. It did sort of have a carrot-like quality to it, but it was hard to tell, “Whoever’s on kitchen duty really outdid themselves,” she said, picking up her bread and giving it a tap on her bowl. The consistency of the bread wasn’t stale so much as it was toasted to the point that it had the consistency of a crouton. It wasn’t that hard to cook, she’d always wondered why the food was always bad in some way. If it wasn’t too mushy, it was bland, if it wasn’t bland, it was something else. It was like a disgruntled witch had cursed it long ago. Maybe it had been. Now wasn’t that a thought?

“How’s life treating you, sir?” She asked after she’d swallowed what passed for stew, “I heard you had to fight a summoned chicken beast this past winter,” she of course had not heard the story that way, but phrasing it like that would hopefully make her superior feel more like a valiant hero than a victim of an angry private.

He grinned, happy that she played along with pretending like the food they were eating was better than the absolutely awful mush on their plates. The soldiers definitely spend more time training than learning how to cook. But again, you got used to it after serving for so many years.

At first he had been eager to respond to the question, but the mention of the chicken curse affected his mood quickly and he grunted a bit. "Yeah, the drawbacks of being a drill instructor, I guess. But overall things are going pretty great." He had Nadine, and with Woodwick in Cambria, he had more responsibilities which would give him the chance to show off his skills. "How are things for you?" She hasn't been back for very long yet, and he wondered how she was settling in.

His mood darkened at the mention on the whole chicken incident. Oof, still sore, she thought. But she supposed she’d be very sour about being undermined in front of soldiers that she was leading. Didn’t change the the whole thing had been the most hilarious thing she’d heard recently, but she wouldn’t be pointing that out to him anytime soon, “Yeah it can be pretty rough,” she shrugged, “Being a drill instructor isn’t always as glamorous as the stories make it out to be, huh?”

“Settling in as well as I can, sir,” she said, taking a bite of the mush, “I forgot how dark it is here, even during the day. Never thought I’d miss the sun.”

He chuckled and shook his head, amused by the idea that people would even make it seem like being a drill instructor was a glamorous thing. The only benefit of it was the power and the authority, but everything else pretty much sucked.

However, he was glad to hear she was settling in. "Yeah", he agreed. He had only been outside of Nevermere for a short time, so he had forgotten what the sun was like. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it, how sad that may seem." He shrugged. "At least you won't get sunburnt here." It was a lousy attempt at a joke, but the bland food had sucked the joy right out of him again.

Evanthe would chuckle, “True! Hard to get sunburn from dark clouds,” she took a sip of water, “Nearly overslept when I got back,” she said, “The sun would wake you up most of the time in Coheed. Such a strange place, yeah?”

“Things changed a bit here too though,” she waved her hand in the air to indicate she meant the military wing, “Things are running a bit differently. I haven’t been here long enough to notice a difference, but do you think things are running smoother? Or are you still getting used to it yourself?”

He shrugged slightly before looking over his shoulder, around the messhall. "Things sure are different", he responded. Hadrian was more stern than ever, there was less trust in the military ever since Bex had turned Octavius, and the constant assessments kept the soldiers on edge. "I'm still getting used to it, yeah." He had been promoted to lieutenant after the ball, and now Woodwick was in Cambria, he had even more responsibility. "But I think it's changing for the better. We need to be prepared for everything." He looked back up at Evanthe after he had taken a bite of his meal. "Who do they have you train again?" he asked, as if he wasn't somewhat involved in it too, but he couldn't remember which officer did what exactly. There were a lot of officers. He didn't remember which age group she trained. Nadine trained the young cadets, and he had trained those who had voluntarily joined the military.

Evanthe picked at her food as she listened to Abbott speak of the changes and what he thought of them. That ball really did start quite the series of changes. She could see the pros and cons of each change, but she did wonder at it. Less time off meant more exhaustion, but it might also help with discipline by keeping everyone busier. Leadership really could be a confusing labyrinth, she supposed.

“I’m training the teenagers right now, so I don’t think they’re seeing as much of the changes as the rest of us are…even though they certainly think they have the worst end of it,” she chuckled. Teenagers were a strange lot. They looked like adults, they felt like adults, but they lacked the experience to know what their situation was like compared to everyone else.

He chuckled lightly. "They don't even know what's coming", he said. He took another few bites of his plate.

"You know", he then said, "We ought to get all the officers and lieutenants together some time for a drink. I feel like we could benefit from it. If the leaders are in sync and know each other better, maybe it would be good for the military. We might all be able to work together better. Even better."