sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Breakfast Feast

WHERE: Lawn in front of 6I Inn
WHEN: Morning, April 5
OPEN TO: ALL - Mingle
WARNINGS: n/a

The day dawns bright and just a little cool, soft mist rolling over the distant mountains as the forest stretches and yawns in the breeze. It's another beautiful morning in this new-old village, just waiting for its inhabitants to begin filling it with the work of the day.

But this day, there is a surprise. A gift, if you will, not unfamiliar to the old timers, although they know too that sometimes these gifts come with strings.

On the lawn in front of the 6I inn, all of the tables, chairs and even the bar has been moved out into the breaking sunshine. A breakfast feast has been arranged, tables piled high with every imaginable delicacy and comfort food of a certain era: Muffins, toast, coffee, fruit, pop-overs, crumpets, lamb chops, porridge, hot chocolate, biscuits, and every kind of egg, just to start. Even the bar is stocked for those itching for mimosas, mint juleps or irish coffee.

Of course, anyone who has spent time in the wilderness can tell you: In a place gone wild, it's only a matter of time before the scent of food draws in unwanted visitors. Eat up while you can, villagers; you may be sharing your plate soon.

[Please read details here!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Owen is still weighing experience against word, deciding how much of what he was told on his first day could be true. A group probably is better for the alien world beyond their residential patch, and so far--no one's stopped him coming and going as he pleased. Danny didn't send a group to cut him off in the trees, nobody broke into his house and relieved him of his supplies.

He'd taken only what would be useful to him; he'd seen at least one kid, less meat than mouth on him, separating out climbing gear and axes on his porch. With no one else saying anything, he hadn't either, but there's a mental tab on that one. Supplies are everything in a place like this.

And a sudden drop of food, cooked up by invisible hands and left in the open--it's bait. It's so obviously bait, and he's seen two people rush off from their plates, but enough people standing strong that he's still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Dragging his gaze over the spread, it flicks up at Danny's presence.

"Is this what you meant when you said there was food, here? Surprise deliveries in the dead of night?"

"Not exactly what I had in mind but we do sometimes get surprise deliveries yes. The feast is new though, haven't had that before. At least not as far as I know. I've only been here a few months though." Danny is in a good mood. He's had coffee and a tasty breakfast. In fact, he is actually still working on his second helping.

"Want to sit down and have some with us? It's pretty good and I've not fallen over dead yet so it probably won't kill you."

"No walls is new, food is new," he ticks off, adding the impressions to his own. Everything is new, to him, and there's always a possibility of the group keeping secrets from the newcomer. "Is anybody keeping an eye out," he asks, sweeping a look through the crowd. As far as he can tell, most of the village is here.

"Even if the food is fine, maybe the point is getting everyone together in one place."

"Knowing this group is is more than one person keeping an eye out. And not all the surprises we get are bad in my experience."

He takes another bite of his pork chop and shrugs. "If it weren't for the fact that this is the first coffee I've had in months I'd be more worried."

Any surprise is a bad one; it speaks to a lack of observation. Calling the people responsible for them Observers is just insult on the injury--seeing but unseen, with an agenda no one can pin down. He doesn't like it. He doesn't like this place.

But he does like the smell of that coffee, and it was a rare commodity at home. The kind of thing you tried to grow or salvage. Quarantine Zones had entire rubrics for rationing things like coffee--comfort foods, non-essentials. The kind of thing you stocked in the ration lines when you wanted to placate, make up for the lack of real food. Younger generations wouldn't care as much, but the old timers, the ones who could make or quell a racket, they'd shut up for a bit if you put a warm cup of something in their hands.

For Owen, the smell is really all there is to it. Under all the debris of the last twenty-five years, there's a glimmer of home, mom pouring water over the grounds in the morning. Drinking it only dried out his mouth and made his stomach churn.

"Where do you think it comes from," he asks, picking up a hard-boiled egg in his good hand, the remaining fingers of the right peeling at the shell. "Our own chickens don't lay all of these, and the animals I saw further out don't look like anything I've ever seen."

He shakes his head. "Not sure. Back where I am from we get eggs at the supermarket. Maybe something like that." He glances over and notices the missing fingers but he doesn't say anything.

"You're thinking there is a reason for this? One that isn't just to feed us?"

Owen squints briefly, trying to slot some of Danny's optimism into that facet of captivity he's trying to get used to: no one seems to remember the infection. Unless it's some kind of ruse, some false-utopia bullshit where no one gets to talk about the world outside, everyone carries on like it didn't happen.

Considering some of what he'd seen on the edge of the pines, maybe this is all what it says on the tin. Alien place, people from all walks, plucked out of time. A bigger experiment than FEDRA or the Fireflies could ever cook up.

"None of us signed up to be here," he points out. "So I'm not inclined to see the altruism of our captors, no." Doesn't stop him from biting off the rounded tip of the egg, once it's exposed, chewing as he peels the shell further down. "We're already equipped to feed ourselves, this is just--I don't know. Placating us, fattening us up, luring us somewhere. Take your pick."

"Maybe. But honestly, I don't mind after everything we've been through so far. I don't know about you but I came in in the middle of a snowstorm and nearly died from hypothermia and well. Being able to eat my fill and have coffee is nice after all that. And if it is just to placate me I don't mind right now."

He finishes up what he has on his place and reaches for some fruit to finish with. "This is also one of the more spectacular breakfasts I've ever seen."

Not one to measure out and quibble over suffering, Owen inclines his head to Danny's point. As long as someone kept an eye out, what more could they do? Ignore fresh fruit, cooked meat? He'd seen the field laid low by winter, and the animals they'd rounded up could hardly be spared for this grand of a spread.

"It is that," he agrees, watching steam lift from where someone's revealed a plate of cooked fish. "As someone who's had to eat a lot of fish for breakfast." And lunch, and dinner.

Egg first, and if that doesn't prove his downfall, he'll try the fish and fruit. "Any way to store some of it for later?"

"Steve and I talked about that. Once everyone has eaten we want to bring stuff back to the house to at least have for dinner or breakfast tomorrow. But without freezers, I think it is going to be hard to store this. Maybe some of the cheeses will keep, and bread should last a few days." He glances down the table. "I'd love to keep the milk and the coffee, but the milk we really need to be able to keep cool"

"Does the fridge not work," he asks, tilting his chin toward the inn. There had been a few basic appliances in the kitchen, dated as they were. He won't turn his nose up at the amenities on offer, just because they're from a time he can't recall any connection to.

Turn of the last century didn't get a lot of curriculum, in the FEDRA schools.

"Maybe we can figure something out with the weather; might be cool enough in the store room for a few days." The cellar under his house, if he's going to call it that, certainly got cold enough if he didn't light the furnace.

"Who knows after being without use for who knows how long. Cooked food doesn't tend to last that long anyway." He shurgs. "It is worth a try. As long we make sure everyone in the village has enough to eat today."

[MINGLE] Breakfast Feast

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject