[It always feels as if there's so much to do, but Jaime's not against taking the time to slow down for one night. He's already scrawled a few answers on the wall, but one thing he's definitely thankful for is the opportunity to spend an evening out of the bugsuit for one evening. One of these days, he's going to wake up and find that he can't change back, he swears it.
He sticks around throughout the entire evening. Before the festivities, he doesn't bother even trying to ruin any of the precious resources they have through his lack of cooking skills, but he's certainly willing to help cart around dishes, set the tables, and even mix a salad or two. He had brought plenty of supplies back from one of his runs, so in the midst of that, you might see him whisking the piles of food from where he had tucked it away in his quarters over to the kitchens for the cooks to do with it what they will.
If you're looking particularly harried, he may just butt in by asking,] Hey, need a hand?
[During the meal, he's certainly distracted away from being helpful - mainly from the presence of food that doesn't come in bar-form or in foil packets. Too much time fighting zombies have put him off all but the most tempting of meat products, but for now, there's plenty of mashed potatoes and other vegetarian dishes to go around. When he's not busy cramming his mouth full of food - it's a feast, he's allowed - he nods his greetings at the others and occasionally makes conversation. One such topic may be,] So, you end up writing on the wall there?
[After the meal, he's halfway tempted to go back and conk out back in his bunk, but not having cooked any of the food, it's the least he can do to help clean up. He shoves the chairs back into place unceremoniously with one foot as he gathers up empty and half-empty plates, stopping here and there to ask people if they're done or if they're just really looking to lick up the last vestiges of gravy on their plates.]
OTA
He sticks around throughout the entire evening. Before the festivities, he doesn't bother even trying to ruin any of the precious resources they have through his lack of cooking skills, but he's certainly willing to help cart around dishes, set the tables, and even mix a salad or two. He had brought plenty of supplies back from one of his runs, so in the midst of that, you might see him whisking the piles of food from where he had tucked it away in his quarters over to the kitchens for the cooks to do with it what they will.
If you're looking particularly harried, he may just butt in by asking,] Hey, need a hand?
[During the meal, he's certainly distracted away from being helpful - mainly from the presence of food that doesn't come in bar-form or in foil packets. Too much time fighting zombies have put him off all but the most tempting of meat products, but for now, there's plenty of mashed potatoes and other vegetarian dishes to go around. When he's not busy cramming his mouth full of food - it's a feast, he's allowed - he nods his greetings at the others and occasionally makes conversation. One such topic may be,] So, you end up writing on the wall there?
[After the meal, he's halfway tempted to go back and conk out back in his bunk, but not having cooked any of the food, it's the least he can do to help clean up. He shoves the chairs back into place unceremoniously with one foot as he gathers up empty and half-empty plates, stopping here and there to ask people if they're done or if they're just really looking to lick up the last vestiges of gravy on their plates.]