John waltzed along, about to check on Phillip, when he noticed the boffin standing at a split, looking quite lost. "Hello sir! May I help you?"

James' face must have lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning. "Yes! Where do I have to go to get to a very crowded area?"

"Well, the kitchens are usually pretty crowded around this time of day. And they're in that direction, pointing to the right. Why?"

"Alright. Do I just head right the entire way, or do I make a turn anywhere?" he said, ignoring his question in his hurry. He was sure he could here footsteps, but he knew it was his mind playing tricks on him.

"Turn left after two crossroads, and the door will be on your left." John stared at him in confusion. "But...why do you need a crowded place?"

"The mercenary is still after me!" And with that, he ran off, yelling "Thanks!" as he went. It seemed like his thing to be making middies worry about his sanity today.

John stared after at the mentally-troubled boffin worriedly. These are the people making fabrications for our country?

James took the appropriate directions and released a breath he didn't know he was holding when he reached the kitchens.

Cooks rushed around the kitchen, a couple middies sent to fetch figs for the flechette bats waiting at another doorway.

Zasha had found her way to the kitchens after being kicked out of the infirmary, hoping to grab something to eat before bed. Ordered to help instead of just standing there, she was now seated at a small corner, peeling potatoes.

James was walking around aimlessly, when he tripped over what looked like potato peeling, and fell flat on his face. Looking up, he saw a familiar face looking at him with confusion and amusement. "Uh, hi Zasha!"

(Of COURSE you come on as soon as I leave. I was on all day, because my mom felt it was a "Might As well be a snow day" even though our idiot mayor said schools were open. I was on all day, and about 2 hours ago, I went downstairs and played my new HP game with my mom. Of COURSE)

"Hi James." Zasha said, focusing back on her potato peeling. "You know, Richtofen fell asleep already. I dragged him to a random bed myself. He's kinda heavy." An orange flake fell on her hair; a trapped-by-the-cook middy was peeling carrots on a stool a foot and a half away. He winced as she dramatically threw the vegetable skin back at him, querulous from lack of sleep.

(*grins* I have good timing like that. *studies 100 SAT words she needs to know by tommorow*)

(Terribly sorry I haven't been on much. Should we skip to the next day, when they're actually underway?)

(We can, if you want)

(Thankyou.)

The next day, Richtofen woke up with a splitting headache. He groaned loudly, looking around his quarters. "Where the hell am I?"

Suzuki had spent most of the night exploring the ship, a decent-sized map both in his head and on paper. He was still sleeping, since he didn't fall asleep until late at night.

Zasha, on the other hand, was wide awake, and hurrying down to the ship's kitchens to get breakfast.

Zasha, still on her way to the kitchens, rounded the corner, only to stop in sight of James, walking around with his eyes closed. "Uh....James?"

Getting no response, Zasha started poking James in the forehead. "Hello~"

"Hello! James~ You still asleep in there?" With James still being unresponsive, Zasha knew she had to do something. He could be dying or something. Well, probably not, but...

She took his head, and slammed it into the wall, in hopes that that would wake him up.

(That good enough?)

Richtofen walked into the corridor, just in time to see James' head get slammed into the wall. His headache was instantly replaced by a wave of euphoria. "Zasha, do that again." He commanded.

James' eyes snapped open. " What the hell was-" But before he could finish, another, stronger, hand slammed his skull into the wall, and he crumpled in a heap to the floor.

(Yes mossy, that was PERFECT!!! Ah, I'm such a sadist... But you all love me for it)

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Zasha looked down at the blob-like blob on the floor. "His brain might be damaged."

(:3 *fist pumps* All of us are sadistic D)

(Yea! SADISTS OF THE WORLD: UNITE!! And, since my character has a concussion, there's really nothing for me right now, unless you want me to bring out the middy.)

John was late. Very late. He was supposed to be at the spine an hour ago! The bossum would kill him!

As he was making a turn, he stopped short at the sight in front of him. The boffin was at a heap on the floor, his bowler fallen off his head. The girl was looking at the boffin quizzically, while the other guy had a look of triumph and glee.

"What the hell did you two do?"

"Uhhh..." Zasha looked at John, a blank expression on her face. "Nothing?"

John stared. Were all of these new people completely psycho? "Then why is the boffin on the floor, bleeding, and looking like he has a concision!?"

"We were playing....hit." Zasha bent down to poke James. "It's like...tag?...only funner!"

"'Funner' isn't a word. And how the hell is giving a grown man a concussion fun?"

(Yes, I had to say that. Me and my cousins always used that word, and myother cousin would say every time 'FUNNER ISN'T A FREAKIN WORD!' Ah... good times...)

"Well....English isn't my first language...can you speak another language?" Zasha raised her eyebrow. "Well...what is it like telling people that their grammar is terrible?"

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