Board Thread:Role Playing/@comment-26545097-20170207025719/@comment-24852191-20170220181854


 * The corridors of the Hansgraf are relatively quiet, with the exception of a few crew members walking to and from their stations. Commander Hanchel sits on the bridge. He always thought night watch was boring, and this only confirmed his suspicions. He looks at the ship's clock, 04:27. He sighs and looks to Lt. Commander Hotchkiss Grace.

Hanchel: Hotch, take over, I'm going to the officer's mess to get a drink. You want anything?

Grace: Uh, just a cup of coffee. Decafe, please?

Hanchel: Decafe? Ok, whatever.

Grace: Geeze, thanks.


 * Hanchel gets out of the command chair and grace takes his spot. He leaves the bridge as he rubs his head. 2 minutes and a lift ride later, Hanchel steps onto deck 6. He walks into the pfficers mess and begins pourong some decaffeinated coffee for Hotchkiss. Once he finishes, he makes some black coffee for himself and drops a couple cinnamon sticks in the cup. It was always wondered how he was able to stand the flavor of his black cinnamon coffee. Then again, it is Hanchel, and thos was just another habit that earned him the nickname "Sweetie". He was on his way back to the bridge when he bumbs into Salem. Some of his precious black coffee spils pver the edge and burns hos right hand. The sodden shock of the sensation made him drop the cup which smashed on the floor and drenched his right service boot in black coffee. The two half disolved cinnamon sticks bounce on the floor.

Hanchel: Oh, son of a (bleep)! (Bleep) it, kid! Can't you watch where you're going?