sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Breakfast Feast

[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.

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It's not portions and it's not Resistance scraps, it's actual food and the sight of the table, sitting ready with more real, edible food on it than Rey has seen in an actual lifetime is enough to make her pause and look around before taking a hesitant step forward. That it's just there, without any guards, without anyone to tell her why or how much she's allowed is strange - but not any more strange than appearing out of the fountain (again) with longer hair and more questions than answers.

To that end, she doesn't hesitate to take a plate and a sample of this and of that; foods she didn't recognize, but was more than happy to sample, ended up on her plate. An egg, a piece of an omelet, a muffin, a bit of bread, a veal chop, and some fruit. A cup of juice, a bottle of some kind of liquor, and a cup of coffee (CAF!) and she eased down at the end of the table, barely balancing her plate and glasses, to enjoy what she'd taken.

Few table manners, no remorse.

Anyone who puts their hand too close risks having that shoveled into her mouth, too, but she's clearly enjoying the food. A lot. She's definitely going to take a doggie bag of anything that's left over. Also a mini bottle or two.

FOR KYLO

As soon as Kylo sits down next to her, he'll realize that it's to his misfortune to have added anything she hasn't tried. Is that ham? A biscuit? Lamb? It honestly doesn't matter because she's going to lick her fingers, wipe them on her napkin (very good, Rey), and then reach for a piece. Fingers will lift a potato bite and her fork will follow to try the lamb.

"This is so good," she tells him around a mouthful of the potato, lamb on her fork waiting, wide eyed and clearly delighted. Grant her this, Kylo. There's more good, tasty, filling food on this table than she's seen in a lifetime. Her eyes land on his pastry and she looks up at him expectantly.

Claire's plate of food is pretty loaded down too when she claims the spot across from the young woman who is digging into her food like she is terrified that it might disappear if she doesn't eat it all but Claire doesn't rush to take a bite. Instead, she sets her plate down and then spends a few seconds just watching before she chuckles. "It all smells amazing, doesn't it?"

Still, she doesn't touch her food right away because she is focused on opening a small bottle that she immediately starts pouring into her glass of orange juice.

Though she notices that she's been joined by someone else, it takes Rey a moment to lift her head from stuffing her face full of the muffin she's retrieved.

The truth is, though she'd never admit it, she is a little afraid that the food is going to disappear. Probably right off her plate. It wouldn't be the first time that she's been given something nice only to have it snatched away.

When she lifts her head and notices the blonde is sitting across from her, she struck by the poise and restraint Claire has. Also, she's really pretty. With her mouth full, she pauses, then finishes chewing carefully before chugging the caf and nodding her head at the juice.

"What're you putting in it?"

Ren has always eaten more or less as a means to an end, especially since coming here to the village. He supposes it's still the village even if they're in some strange, new version of it and the food certainly hasn't changed. Neither has the tendency for food to show up at random intervals in some sort of feast.

He's learned to trust it, since this food is better than the rest, and he'd gotten a plate with a modest amount on it in hopes of actually enjoying something for once. Rey, on the other hand, is a glutton. He guesses that happens when one grows up in the desert.

"How can you even fit it into your mouth, Rey." It's not exactly a question, not exactly a statement - some nebulous place between.

Helen had tried her best to comprehend what, exactly, had happened over the past little while with varying amounts of success. This isn't the first time she's experienced life that felt and tasted and seemed real while being the product of an elaborate simulation but she does wish it could stop happening - once is enough for anyone, truly.

Upon waking up and coming through the fountain again, she'd realized her hair had grown extensively over the past two years, so much so that the bottom half of it was the dark brown she'd kept it dyed over the last several decades and the top half her own natural blonde. As soon as she could locate someone with hair-cutting scissors, she'd had it cut short so that she could simply wear her natural color for the time being.

She had never been someone to eat to excess but she was rather hungry so she made a large enough plate to garner some stares and paired it with a mimosa. She'd also never been much of a drinker, either, but the luxury of champagne after being forcibly temperate for most of her two year stint in statis again was irresistible.

Once she'd sat down, she realized she'd completely forgotten jam and smiled at the person alongside her, wanting to correct that error. "Jam? I don't care which kind. I simply forgot to get it before I sat down."

Edited 2018-04-06 18:48 (UTC)

They hadn't been intending to stay for a meal; Finnick and Annie have been carefully investigating the village for any obvious signs of further changes each morning since whatever that was had happened, and they'd been drawn in by the sight and smell of the feast laid out. There'd been coffee, and meat that nobody had to hunt, biscuits and muffins and bread and fruit. It was a spread that would have been depressingly dull for the Capitol, but beyond the dreams of most in the districts, and here, it was luxury.

So, even though they still didn't know what to trust in this new version of the arena, Finnick and Annie couldn't turn down the food. That's the thing about the feast in the Games, and here, too: no matter how suspicious it is, it's always needed.

After he and Annie have loaded up their plates, Annie stays behind with the food, and Finnick heads for the drinks. He's standing behind the bar, trying to decide whether he should make a mimosa or just take a bottle of straight champagne. He looks up from the bottles to glance over to her, but for once, something other than Annie draws his attention. At the edge of the lawn stands a moose, staring at the gathering. Next to it, though, are two other animals, covered in some sort of purple wool.

"What?" he starts, staring. Then he hears a squawking sound and looks to the left and sees a group of some sort of dark-colored birds, about the size of their geese, but not like any sort of goose Finnick's seen. Gathering all around the edge of the lawn, so far at a careful distance from the food, are all sorts of animals: something like a badger, a skunk, more of the woolly purple things, some sort of dog with horns ...

Things he's never seen before, even in the Capitol's mutt experimentation in the Games.

"We've got company," he says to anyone near enough to hear.

Edited 2018-04-07 09:41 (UTC)

She should have figured it all out sooner. And Sam would have been cursing herself with every variation of every swear word she knew for her lack of scientific conclusions, if she could have. Unfortunately, the only sound she was able to make was a sickly retching noise as she fell to her hands and knees on the lawn, bloody vomit coming up on her with each heave of her shoulders.

After she'd first been turned, she'd blatantly ignored Karen and tried to eat a bag of Cheetos. In the subsequent aftermath of that particular trauma, she'd wanted comfort food--comfort, really--so desperately and she'd resented Karen so much that she just refused to listen. After regurgitating it all up, Karen had stroked her back and, for once in their entire relationship, actually hadn't said 'I told you so.'

There was no reason. Sam was smart enough to come to her own conclusions there: Kindred couldn't eat human food.

It was funny, how quickly she'd gotten used to being human again, how quickly she'd started taking things for granted again, things she'd sworn she never would. A steady heartbeat. Breath in her lungs. The ability to dance in sunlight without fearing the flames. She'd let it all just meld into who she was again.

And then she'd forgotten.

Well, there was no forgetting now. Sam was Kindred again. The Galatea of the Ordo Dracul again.

Fuck this place. Fuck it hard.

She was so dead.

Is it criticism? She can't tell and it dulls her enthusiasm just a little and she pauses there, fork halfway between his plate and her full mouth. She finishes chewing, swallows, then looks at her fork before lowering it slightly.

"I can fit a lot of things in my mouth, Ben, and good food is one of them."

She tosses him a fake, overly saccharine smile before putting the bite of his lamb in her mouth, then reaches for the pastry on his plate that she'd been eyeing and takes a bite of that, too.

With all that has been happening, it is all too easy for Kate to go back to how she'd been in the earlier days of this place. As the self-appointed innkeeper, she'd watched everyone here when they came to the inn, but leading up to the disappearance-reappearance-another-trip-through-fairyland that the last few days have been, she'd become more complacent. Not now. Now she's all sharp, watchful, concerned. So she notices when Miss Samantha Moon leaves, and how fast and unsteady she'd been, and so, she'd followed.

"Miss Moon, are you-"

She stops, noticing exactly the colour of the mess coming from the young woman.

"Oh, God in heaven," Kate whispers, and moves forward. Stupid thing, coughing up blood means death but she can't help it. "Here, here, steady," she says quietly, coming up to her and gently pulling her hair out of the way.

The fact that Felicity had even been at the Inn is a minor miracle in and of itself; ever since they'd reappeared in the fountain, she'd had to listen to Oliver talk about how this is why they had to be on their guard constantly and this is what all the training was for and this is why they have to be looking out for one another and if it hadn't been for an early morning jog to shut him up, they might have missed out and she'd be on her eighth bit of squirrel that week.

Instead? Coffee. Actual coffee and orange juice and Felicity was telling herself that she fairly certain that she was going to have some kind of minor orgasm from the bacon when Finnick spoke up and she lifted her eyes from pouring a second cup of coffee to follow his gaze around the edge of the clearing.

"What--" Her eyes go wide as she takes in what could be animals or could be. Well, not. "That definitely doesn't fall into the 'more the merrier' for this kind of party."

Ren barely refrains from rolling his eyes and goes back to methodically eating his own food, sans the pastry. He's never had much of a sweet tooth other than for a particular sweet his father had favored and now he won't eat it out of sheer spite. Since Corellian pastries aren't in evidence here, he'd allowed himself to have one and now Rey's taken it. Of course.

"You're just going to be sick after you eat all this food. There's no point in eating this much and just getting sick afterward. It won't even be worth it."

"It will," she asserts, her look suddenly entirely sincere. "It will be worth it."

His comment, however, causes her to slow down a little and actually savor the food she's eating and she eyes the bottles she'd snagged from the bar of drinks. "I don't know what these two are, but I'm going to save them," she tells him thoughtfully. One is vodka and the other is champagne. No one has told her how to make either a Bloody Mary or a mimosa, so she's sticking with them as treats. "Let me guess, you're used to growing up with all this."

Helen's not the only one having hair issues since coming back through the fountain. Beverly discovered that her own hair has grown out, but that the bottle of dye she used to turn the blonde back to red doesn't seem to have made the transition. Somehow her hair is half-blonde and half-ginger, with the bottom half blonde and the top half her natural red. It's made several things fly through her mind again, most notably her holodeck theory, as uncomfortable as it is.

Still, she's not about to turn down a decent meal, even if there's still a chance that something's been poisoned. And given how much she's wanted a drink, even just a small one, after some of the trouble of the last few months, she's not about to turn down what she sees. She chooses a light berry drink to go with her breakfast and Helen is lucky enough to have found herself next to another jam-lover. Beverly has plenty to spare.

"Easy to do when we're not used to having it," Beverly points out with a smile as she passes some over. "I think I've been in a strawberry mood today. Strawberry jam, strawberries to eat. Even strawberries in my drink. I swear it wasn't intentional."

If there's one thing Major loves in the whole wide world, it's food. Good food, to be exact. Sure, he also loves video games, and sex, and a good craft beer, and some other things that are pretty basic in terms of where they fall on the Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs pyramid, but food trumps everything. The smell of breakfast food hits him like a swift fist to the teeth, and whatever things he had in mind for this particular day are immediately thrown out of the proverbial window.

He wants that food, in his belly, and he wants it yesterday.

He piles his plate high with everything there is to offer before happily plopping himself down at one of the tables closest to the buffet. He knows these feasts often come with some kind of caveat, but if Major's going to go out one way or another, this is how he'd like to go, so he throws caution to the wind and begins to chow down.

Only ..

He realizes that nothing .. seems to taste right. Everything tastes .. ashy, and bland, and boring. Even the succulent lamb chops, which he had been particularly excited about, feel like a pile of flavorless mush in his mouth. He's not rude, though, so he chews and swallows whatever he's shoveled into his mouth already, but it's very evident that he's not enjoying a single bite. Eventually, he stops eating all together, leaving an almost-full plate of food in front of him.

Major looks like he might start wailing any second, if it wasn't for the consternation currently weighing on his brows. He had enjoyed himself during the last feast, stuffing himself 'til he was pretty sure he was going to vomit all over the place. What changed? Did coming to this new place .. do something?

Oh shit, he thinks, coming to the realization. Am I no longer human? He suddenly looks panicked, getting up from his chair, looking like he's just seen a ghost.

Edited 2018-04-08 02:53 (UTC)

Although Ned is mostly wary about the feasts that seem to conjure themselves up out of thin air, he has also come to sort of relish them, even enjoy them. The foods offered are far cries from the ones he'd known growing up in Winterfell, both in taste and in composition, but he enjoys them with just as much gusto as he had before. And, given the ordeal all of the villagers have just gone through with resurfacing in another fountain, he thinks that this may be a reward from the Observers, perhaps for having survived this long.

Or, he wonders, that might be foolish, idealistic thinking.

He tries to push those lingering thoughts from his mind as he surveys the morning's offerings, unfamiliar with some of what's been laid out. He decides to start off modestly, with a mixture of things he recognizes and things he doesn't, before sitting himself down far enough away from the large tables so as not to be in anyone's way.

He'd gotten himself a mug of something he was told was called "hot chocolate," though he's never tasted or heard of such a thing before. He brings it to his nose, giving it a tentative sniff, before allowing himself to take a sip. His eyes glitter with delight.

"What a drink," he comments aloud, "I've never had anything like it."

Edited 2018-04-08 03:03 (UTC)

Beverly had actually started with a light breakfast cocktail, but now that she's been here for a bit, she's eyeing some of the other drinks available. When she spots Ned, she makes her way over, happy to see him more than the hot chocolate.

"It is a good drink," she agrees with a smile. "Do you not have chocolate in your world or just not the hot liquid version?"

It isn't such a longshot to assume that some places just don't have farms of cacao or even wild-grown variants. Maybe Ned just isn't in the part of his world that does.

Ned looks up at her with a brightness in his face and eyes she's not yet seen in him before. Part of it is that, aside from coming through the fountain again, nothing overtly disastrous has happened to him since. The other part is, naturally, the hot chocolate he's cradling in his hands like a precious gem. He has his fur-lined gloves on, but he enjoys the way the warmth of the drink seeps in and touches his skin.

Her question, though, has him studying her for a few quiet moments, unsure of what she means.

"There are .. other versions? I'd never heard of it before now." He looks down to his mug with a renewed sense of awe. "There is a cold, solid version of it?"

In some ways, teaching people here about what her world and time period have is something like teaching children the wonders of the world. In this case, Beverly appreciates the brightness and wonder in Ned's expression and in his tone. Something tells her he gets precious few moments like this and she thinks he deserves many more than this.

"Yes and it's very good," she answers with a nod. "I'll see if I can find a chocolate bar for you someday. There's a lot of different kinds of that, too. If you're not used to chocolate, or sweets in general-" She shoots him a slightly questioning look at that, wondering if candy exists or if the food he's used to is particularly sugary. "-it might be better to start with something that has a lower percentage of cacao. The higher the percentage, the more potent and bitter the chocolate is."

She's going to try not to blow his mind with the idea of white, milk, and dark chocolates just yet.

"We have desserts and sweets back home," Ned explains, looking back up to her, "But we've nothing like chocolate there, I'm afraid. My eldest daughter, Sansa, her favorite is Lemon Cakes. A bit tart, a bit sour, but made and topped with sugar so as to still be a sweet dessert." She'd been so delighted when they'd first arrived at King's Landing, and she realized she could have them at almost any time she wanted them. How quickly that joy had dissipated.

"Still, this hot chocolate is unlike anything I can recall back home. Of course, I tried my best not to indulge too often as I got older." He offers her a bit of a playful smile. "Especially after my children were born." He had to set a good example for them, didn't he? He glances back down to the mug in his hands before taking another sip. "So it is the -" he pauses, trying to remember and bend his tongue to say the word, "-cacao that gives this its flavor?" His attempts are admirable, but it comes out more like, "kah-coh" than anything else.

Steve is digging into his own full plate of food not far from Major when he notices the other man doesn't seem to be really enjoying his food. At first he doesn't really pay too much attention but when Major stops eating all together, Steve starts to get concerned. Looking down at his own plate, he wonders if there's something wrong with the food. Slowing in his meal he takes a sip of his coffee contemplating the situation.

After a moment, he stands and picks up his plate in one hand and his coffee in the other with the intention to move closer to Major in order to find out if anything is wrong. He's just a couple of steps away when Major suddenly looks panicked and stands.

"Whoa! Hey!" Moving to Major's table, he puts his dishes down. "What's wrong? You okay?"

Danny had woken up to a very excited Steve telling him about breakfast and coffee and all sorts of good things. He finds it hard to believe but soon enough he finds himself dragged over to the table. He grins as he sits down. A lot of this isn't stuff hed consider breakfast food but he isn't going to complain. Especially not when he finds out that Steve was right about the coffee. That is what he goes for first, a nice big mug of coffee that he spends a few seconds just smelling with a blissed-out look on his face before he takes a sip.

Then he starts loading up his plate. "This is pretty damn impressive for breakfast."

Steve is nowhere near as dignified or reserved as Danny. Being a SEAL he's far too accustomed to knowing you have to eat quickly and as much as you can when you have the opportunity. And this is so much better than having to eat what they catch and being cautious of rations as they have been.

As Steve fills his plate he's also filling his mouth in between taking sips of coffee. He's still not quite trained in the rules of table etiquette and manners so he thinks nothing of talking with his mouth full.

"This is awesome!" He smiles, while still chewing then swallows, taking a sip of coffee before popping a hard boiled egg into his mouth. "We need to take some of this back to the house for later."

Steve... Danny sighs internally. But what he does do is take the place from Steve and set it on the table. "Yeah, but let's first eat here and make sure there is enough for everyone to have some today." He nods to the chair next to him.

"Can you at least try to eat like a civilized person?"

"What?" Steve asks somewhat indignantly as he sits and grabs his plate back. Danny's lucky he didn't lose his arm there. "I'm civilized!"

But he has to agree, everyone needs to have the opportunity to eat today before they started taking leftovers home. If this is anything like the last feast they were given, there should be more than enough - although this is the first meal out of the simulation.

Swallowing first this time - see Danny, he can be civilized - he says, "With the animals food shouldn't be as hard to come by now. We should be able to eat better here." At least he was hoping so. Not that they ate poorly before, he trapped land animals and they always had plenty of fish, but it would be nice to have eggs and other options for meat.

Danny smiles and grabs his own mug of coffee for another sip. "Yeah, more varied at least. You think we could figure out how to make malasada here? That would be pretty awesome."

He digs into his food and grins as he takes a bite of the pork chops. "You should try those. They are really good."

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[MINGLE] Breakfast Feast

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ANIMAL INVASION | OTA

Samantha Moon | OTA | CW: Blood and Vomit

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Major Lilywhite | OTA

Ned Stark | OTA

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Danny OTA

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