<blockquote><div><cite>Goblin wrote:</cite>Azzy hadnâ€™t much liked the thought of letting the alien up, but it wasnâ€™t his decision. So what if it could speak English? So could other enemies and no one would just trust them. Even if they were weak. There was some sign of his discomfort, but the ragged chattering had at least stopped. Besides that, since it had been mentioned, he realized he was actually hungry. Heâ€™d been drifting aimlessly at a distance from the ship for hours. <br/><br/>He didnâ€™t leave right away though, wanting to see what the alien was going to do. He may not have appeared to be, but he was completely alert. The question did occur to him why the kid was hanging around the med bay. Azzy didnâ€™t think he really belonged, but he wasnâ€™t getting in the way. And, come to think of it, hadnâ€™t he been there since the beginning? A slight grin crept across his face and he touched the boy on the top of his head. â€œâ€™Ey Nick, feel like playinâ€™ a game witâ€™ me? We câ€™n  share lunch.â€ Typically, he didnâ€™t gamble. And never had with Nickel or the others. But heâ€™d heard the kid would cheat and wanted to see if he could catch him at it. <br/><br/>On his way out, he shot a clearly acid look at Malicent. The man had no understanding of animal instincts. Though really, he would have liked to see him try to treat Angela for something as ridiculous as PTSD. A little life and death might scare him, send him running off to his god, but not Azzy. And Asmodeus was pretty sure Angela was more than capable of dealing. <br/><br/>When heâ€™d gotten to the mess hall, it wasnâ€™t anywhere near as empty as heâ€™d thought it would be. Then again, the Elyandra was pretty much running itself. It wasnâ€™t too much of a surprise that most of the crew would have the time on their hands to sit around and bull-shit. Sorting through the noise, he located the voices he wanted. In passing, one of the members of the ground recon crew greeted him. They would still look at him oddly, but heâ€™d gotten long used to it. It was startling to some people. Azzy looked almost normal, and then there was a clear flaw, right in the middle of his face.<br/><br/>The tray in his hands clattered onto the table, almost unbearably loud to his ears. It sounded to him that whatever the discussion was, it was a bit depressing. He offered some kind of salute to the both of them, something in his mind warning him he was in a dangerous situation. Azzy wrote it off as the feeling of being a bat among cats. â€œSergeant Asmodeus Marks.â€ He nodded at the male, not really remembering his name. â€œI losâ€™ our game, anâ€™ we didnâ€™ eâ€™en get time ta set the price.â€ The finely webbed fingers turned the food around, instead of it being eaten, with one hand already in a pocket, searching for the stripped cigarettes. â€œGuess â€˜at means the rewardâ€™s up to ya, Maâ€™am.â€ The term of respect was laced with a lot of sarcasm.</div></blockquote>