#murderbot 1

Yeah, he had to be running on a high. Had to be. How else could he explain any of this? He could, on chems. John stared at... What was this, Assaultron? Nicky Valentine-esque synth? Someone in a really neat costume? He was going with the latter.

It takes Taako a second to figure out what Murderbot’s even talking about. He raises an eyebrow, stopping in his frenzied and automatic slicin’ ‘n’ dicin’ of a few choice vegetables (all sorts litter the countertop; he’s got a sort of rhythm going, though he’s struggling to keep track of what goes where. It’s autopilot, baby--cooking for cooking’s sake). “Uh, yeah, real risky thing choppin’ onions. Makes even the most stoic guy tear up.”

There’s a dryness to his tone as he decides next comes celery, though he really should stark working on the tomatoes. Maybe it’s worried because he’s been limping since he got here? Which is just another reason to cook, honestly, and not a big deal. It’ll probably clear up.

“You ever seen someone cook before, Tin Man?”