we all scream (but this time, for ice cream)

[zomboligist]

WHO: Ravi Chakrabarti
WHERE: Inn, near the Kitchen
WHEN: June 3rd
OPEN TO: All! Mingle post!
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Open

---

There's another one of those strange boxes sitting on the porch of their home when Ravi gets up to another scorching, awful day. He's not sure what switch they hit to get this sort of weather, but he wants them to take it back, seeing as he's been sweating so much that he has to do laundry practically every day to cope with the ridiculousness of it. He can't go shirtless because he has absolutely no will to show everyone the out of shape disappointment that it his torso.

He bends to pick up the box and bring it inside, but hisses when his fingers contact something frosty cold at the bottom of the box. Opening it in a hurry, his eyes widen and he tugs the box to his chest as best as he can, taking off in a completely ungraceful run, heading straight for the inn and shouting as he goes. "Ice cream!" he says, like the world's skeeviest ice cream truck on legs, luring children in after him. "Ice cream, there's ice cream, it's going to melt," he warns, because there are six tubs of it, but he fears that in this heat, it's not going to last very long at all. Scientifically, he knows that it's just going to be calories that generate heat, but science can go take a backseat.

He unloads the toppings and the various six flavours (ranging from vanilla to chocolate, cookie dough, mint chocolate chip, butter pecan, and even a treasured cherry garcia), the sprinkles and peanuts going with the caramel and hot fudge sauces. He could weep because there are even serving spades, bowls, and spoons. He knows he ought to be wary about food after the whole chocolate poisoning incident (if it really was the chocolate), but it's just so hot and he's just so hungry.

He'll chance it, because if he doesn't, he just gets some delicious flavoured ice cream soup soon.

Comments

OTA

[zomboligist]

Despite his insistence to himself that he's not mildly scarred from the feast, Ravi's spoon still finds itself in the cookie dough and vanilla, avoiding the chocolate for now. He could pretend that he just has other favourites, but that would be a lie, especially when he knows that he doesn't want to experience that tongue-swelling horror again. Wiping the sweat from his brow and wondering why hell has to come to earth now of all times, he weighs the ice cream spade back and forth in his hand, studying them all.

The tubs are starting to sweat and small bits are melting, so he knows he hasn't got much longer. He makes a stabbing sort of scoop motion towards the cherry garcia, a spoonful already in his mouth by the time he turns around, hopeful that some people are going to come help him, but at the same time, hopeful that not too many will turn up? So sue him, he's hungry and hot and ice cream is a much better way of cooling down than public nudity, which is fine for young, fit people, but not really geeky medical examiners.

It's awful, but he even appreciates the brain freeze for two seconds before he winces in horrible pain, "Ow, ow, freezing," tripping past his lips, but again, he's on a clock here, so he's just going to have to power through. With another spoonful, Ravi decides there's no better time than the present to develop an immunity to those sorts of things.

it's been too long...also these two continue to meet over food

[hawkeyesniper]

Riza's rolled up a pair of her scrub pants and is walking around in a tank top. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and she's grateful for the ribbons she receive a year ago to pull this off. It's still not enough. She comes down, wiping sweat from her brow. "I haven't felt this hot since Ishval...and even their desert wasn't this bad."

Arado paws beside her, tongue already lolled out as he pants. She's on her way to get him more water when she notices Ravi...surrounded by several containers of ice cream. Arado barks and makes a bee-line for his friend. Riza just shakes her head, "How'd you manage to luck out on this one?" She pauses and then adds, eyeing the unopened chocolate, "Are you sharing?"

[zomboligist]

"Rampant complaining?" is Ravi's best guess, seeing as he's not entirely sure that he actually deserves anything like this, but he's also not going to say no to it. He's still working on the ice cream, but then there's a dog. Dog, ice cream, and no one trying to kill him? This is practically Christmas. "Hello, handsome," he greets the dog. "I'm not able to feed you any of this, it's Ravi-food, and he's very hungry," he says, pouring new amounts of fudge onto the ice cream, gesturing to the tubs.

"It's all going to melt, so you'd best help," he encourages, "no matter what I'd like to think, I can't manage to do all this on my own."

[repressings]

Ice cream.

He's seen it being sold everywhere--prohibition meant soda fountains and fancy restaurants, and hot days meant immigrants serving it on the corner if they could afford the technology. What he's not expecting is someone yelling ice cream in a panicked state like one would shout 'fire!' while racing out of a building.

Curiousity gets the better of him. He puts on a long-sleeved white shirt and overalls, refusing to show his arms, and makes for the direction of the shouting. What he finds is..

..Well, he's not sure. But it's definitely the strange man with the same accent as Peggy Carter, and that's--that's certainly ice cream. He's never had ice cream--never been allowed--and eye eyes it, mostly hungrily but with a hint of wariness.

"Sir, is that--is that really ice cream?"

[zomboligist]

Ravi's not sure that anyone has ever called him sir before, so it's not his fault it takes him an extra thirty seconds to even realize that the boy is talking to him. Then, he puffs up with ego for a moment, but it fades when he figures that he shouldn't waste their time getting all high and mighty when there's ice cream melting. "You're going to have to tell me your favourite flavour and get a spoon," he says, all business.

"We've probably only got a good hour, if that, before it's just very sugary soup." Some people might go for that sort of thing, but Ravi's not one of them. "It's not going to eat you back," he promises, seeing the wary look on his face. "At least, not that I've seen so far."

[thegreatexperiment]

Sam was pretty useless in a kitchen, unless what she was making involved the words 'microwave' and 'burrito.' Preferably together. But she'd been spending some time lurking around the Inn kitchen, anyway. Not for the food, but for the equipment. She was no engineer, but she'd been trying to piece together ideas. Ways to contact the outside world or get there or something. It was just as much science fiction as it was science, but it was keeping her from going completely batshit, so it was something.

She'd been having a few stray thoughts about conduction. And was on her way to raid the drawers for anything that looked like copper.

That was, until she spotted a guy shoveling food into his mouth like it was his last meal. Instantly, Sam was formulating a couple of snarky remarks to make, but they dried up on her tongue when she realized what he was eating.

Ice cream.

Fucking ice cream.

She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had any. Obviously before she'd died. And probably a while before that, still. Her last few months had been...well. They'd been something.

Flipping a curl or two over her shoulder, she walked over to the stranger. "Where the fuck did you get that?"

[zomboligist]

Ravi instantly feels like he's having Liv flashbacks when he sees the hair, but that just makes him miss her with an ache he can't even think about, so instead, he flips his own hair (it's not that long, so it doesn't really do much) and mirrors her with a very smug, proud look on his face. "Turns out I'm special enough to get magic ice cream delivery. Better than the lab rats." Unless he'd missed some lab rats with the ice cream, in which case, he's still probably going to keep eating it because the truth is, he's not picky.

Not in this heat, at least. "Come on," he says, gesturing to the plastic spoons. "There's no way I'm going to finish this before it melts, you're going to need to dig in. Unless you're lactose, in which case, that is a tragedy no one should have to bear."

[ethnobotany]

Beverly doesn't spend a whole lot of time in the Inn ― mostly she pokes her head in to see if someone she knows is inside ― but today she might make an exception. Especially given the tubs of ice cream she can see sitting out. How long has it been since she had real ice cream and not replicated? She hesitates on the outskirts with just enough time to spot Ravi.

"Don't hurt yourself," she says mildly at his reaction to what she assumes was a brain freeze. "Looks like an ice cream party out here."

[zomboligist]

"It's all going to melt if we don't do something about it, the brain freeze is worth it," Ravi says with a firm nod of his head, seeing as there are worse fates in the world to endure just to cool down temporarily. "I know in a few hours, I'll regret all of this, but I can't even care right now," he admits.

"You're going to need to help, it's medically required," he says, mock-seriously, "otherwise, think of the sugar spike I may be bringing on myself, consuming all of this at once."

MOANA OTA

[chosenbytheocean]

She was sitting at the inn like usual. Her new dress was great but it was also a little heavy and the heat was starting to make Moana's head swim. Itiiti was upstairs with the small bunny and they were both panting from the heat. She had used her cloak to cover the window and then brought a very large bowl of water for her room so that they'd be safe.

Now she had to worry about herself.

Moana didn't know what ice cream was but the word ice caught her attention. She walked towards the commotion and stared. That looked very cold. "What is this?" She pressed her finger against the edge of the container and shivered.

"Oh it's cold!" She really wanted to dump it over her head but she'll ask what it was first. There was probably a reason that someone else hadn't done that.

[thecatinahat]

Cougar has been working on his second bowl, trying to make his bites smaller because if he doesn't, he's just going to go back for more until he's eaten all the chocolate ice cream himself. He'll spend tomorrow throwing it up, probably, too sweet after all the protein, but he thinks maybe it will be worth it. He gives Moana an amused look from where she's studying it, trying to see if she's just joking or teasing, but it becomes clear, then, that she's not.

"Ice cream," he explains, gesturing to the tubs. "You've never eaten ice cream?" It seems impossible, but at the same time, they're all stuck in a village in the past. Who knows what's impossible anymore?

OTA

[71st_victor]

There's probably something vaguely lewd in the way that Johanna has her tongue curled around a spoonful of something called butter pecan, the richness and flavor something that she's never tried before. Sure, they never stinted on the food when it came to the Victor's Village, but it's funny how your appetite vanishes when you remember that all of it came from the people who put you into the arena in the first place. This place probably isn't any different, but at least there's no blood on her hands to get it. She even feels like she's worked for this, which is a weird concept to actually expect food for honest work and not just participating in bloodsport designed to be entertaining.

Besides, she's hungry and it's hot enough that she's wandering around in just her bra and underwear, because some people apparently don't want a naked woman just wandering around the village. Right now, sprawled out and enjoying at least four scoops of ice cream, she doesn't give a shit about appearances. It's too hot and she's too hungry. She's got her scrubs top lingering somewhere nearby in case someone clears their throat too aggressively or whatever, but until then, Johanna just plans to enjoy her ice cream.

[onlyeverdoubted]

Bodhi is pretty sure he died again sometime in the sticky night and it was just so underwhelming compared to the first time that it simply didn't take. Oh, for the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space barely held off by the bare minimum of life support. For the blistering cold of Jedha's high winds. For kriffing climate control. The ice cream is honestly too sweet and rich for his tastes and he feels like he might regret the unfamiliar dessert later, but for a spot of actual cold, he's more than willing to deal with it.

Though he does have just a single scoop of mint, unadorned, as he sits down to join her. Even for something cold, it's hard to summon up an appetite. He reacts as much to her (lack of) a wardrobe as he did at the hot springs, not seeming to notice anything out of the ordinary. He's finally opted to leave his own shirt at home, having determined through close observation that this seems to be an acceptable bending of the consensus nudity taboos, and not just a Johanna-ism. It doesn't help. His greeting is more a grunt in which a vague intent to form words is just barely audible before it's abandoned.

[fishermansweater]

There is something lewd about it, but Finnick's used to that from Johanna, and when it comes down to it, he can just about keep pace with her for lewdness, because that's part of what they expect from him in the Capitol. Mostly, he just eyes whatever Johanna does pointedly and then ignores it. And that's what he does this time, as he saunters over with a bowl of mint chocolate chip and chocolate ice cream covered in sprinkles.

He's less bothered by the heat than most of the others, and he's wearing a sleeveless shirt and his red pants, laces on his hiking boots loosened a little in the only real concession to the weather.

He doesn't bother to ask if he can join her, just sits down next to Johanna and licks some ice-cream off his spoon. He raises the bowl to her in a silent toast.

OTA

[thecatinahat]

He thinks if he takes the chocolate ice cream, all of it, someone is going to notice.

That's about the only thing stopping Cougar from creating a distraction, wrapping an arm around it, and leaving. This isn't Bolivia in the middle of nowhere, this is a village with people he knows and if he starts getting a reputation for hoarding free food offered to him, he's going to have trouble down the line. So instead, today, Cougar plays nice. He only takes some of the chocolate, then adds liberally from the other flavours, using sprinkles to heap them to an enviable level.

Even by the time he's done, it's melting, and Cougar has to swipe his finger along the bottom of the bowl to suck it off, eyeing the room around him and wondering if anyone will notice if he sneaks up and gets seconds. He already knows he's going to have a sugar high, but there's something about the hit once you have it that he could use more, right away.

Good, then, that it's ice cream and not drugs they got. In a village like this with too much boredom to worry about, Cougar doesn't want to think about what kind of hobbies he might pick up to pass the time.

OTA

[oncewasroman]

There are certain advantages to coming to the inn apparently. Rory was expecting to come in and find the normal crowd, perhaps grab a sandwich, and leave. He had plans to make after all because, if his guess was correct, they were fast approaching his wedding anniversary. Luckily, he and Amy had celebrated in stranger places...though usually those places were a bit nicer than this one. Still, he wasn't going to let that stop him.

Still, he isn't so distracted that he doesn't notice the collection of ice cream on the table. Ravi is in his own conversation with others, but Rory hears him mention that he's sharing the ice cream because otherwise it will melt. Rory isn't going to turn down ice cream and, while trying not to intrude, moves over to the gathering.

"Excuse me...would you pass the butter pecan?"

OTA

[chirrutsluck]

Baze has never actually had ice cream before. Point of fact, he's spent his whole life on a cold moon where it wouldn't actually be useful, and most of that as a priest living off whatever the temple made themselves. So while he pokes his head into the inn at the words, because "ice", in this weather, has got to be something good... he frowns at the tubs in confusion. That doesn't look like ice.

He has his hair tied up and back as much as the big mane of it will allow itself to be controlled, and has found (or more likely created, given the uneven edges) a sleeveless shirt, and even then he looks a little like he might melt, himself.

"What?" is what he says, looking puzzled and wary.

[herworship]

"It's cold and sweet and it doesn't look like it's killing anybody," Leia answers from her seat near the door, half-empty bowl in hand. "At least not yet, anyway." In this heat, it seems like a risk worth taking. The way she figures it, if their captors wanted them dead, they would be by now.

She arches an eyebrow at the sweaty figure in the doorway and sweeps her spoon in a motion toward the table where the ice cream and sundries are set up.

[chosenbytheocean]

"It's ice cream!"

Moana had just been given a crash course in what ice cream was and she was now eager and excited to tell everyone about it. Sadly, most people in the village already knew what ice cream was.

She was bouncing a bit on the pads of her feet when she spoke to Baze. She didn't know him but she didn't have to in order to talk to him. Moana was naturally friendly. She was wearing her island dress that she'd made, her shirts swishing as she bounced and her mid-drift exposed. She looked like she had just come from a tropical island.

Dark eyes turned to look up at him as she continued. "It's like a desert but if you eat to fast you get ice brain." That's what it'd been called when she asked about it.

ota

[wittyskepticism]

Hawke's first thought when she steps into the Inn ― it's a tavern, really, but everyone calls it the Inn ― to see all those people surrounding something ice cold is that all of this looks pretty Orlesian. It looks like the sort of gathering an Orlesian would throw. Except much, much less fancy. None of them are even wearing masks.

But the ice cream, as someone has told her it's called, is definitely reminiscent of some Orlesian dish or other. Some specialty. Funny that a woman born and raised in Ferelden would end up with a bowl of something looking like it jumped off an Orlesian servant's platter. And yet, here she is.

Hawke tilts her head at the scoops she has. Butter pecan and something called cookie dough. Decadent. She turns from the table with spoon in hand and nearly knocks into the person next to her. Nearly. One or the other of them prevents any pain or loss of delicious ice cream.

"Now I understand why the Orlesians always hold themselves so stiffly," she comments with her usual dry humor. "They'd probably bump shoulders all the time if they didn't look like they had a board attached to their backs!"

[not_a_slave]

"It would explain something about much of Hightown," Fenris agrees, with a thoughtful tone that suggests that he's seriously considering her words as a commentary about Orlesian society, and specifically that portion of it that has chosen to make a home in Hightown. Most of their companions learned, over the years that they spent together, not to believe things he says that are entirely ridiculous, no matter how serious his tone as he says them.

In truth, Fenris has no experience of Orlesians in Orlais, and little of them in Kirkwall. He may have lived in Hightown for many years, but he was always looked down on by his neighbors, and neither he nor they had any desire to include him to be a part of that social scene. He has little time for the ostentation of Orlais or the affectations of its citizens.

"What is this?" he asks, a controlled gesture of the fingers of one hand indicating the crowd and the tubs laid out on the table.

OTA

[ottimismo]

The thing about being trapped in a village in the heart of a canyon in the scorching heat is that it doesn't matter where you are when someone runs through shouting ice cream, you're going to hear it. For instance, Sonny is stepping off the front porch of their pieced together church when he hears it, and admittedly, he thinks he's going crazy at first.

But he recognizes Ravi's voice, and so he picks up as much of a pace as he's willing to put forth in with the sweltering heat to make his way to the inn. Somehow, it's already nearly in full swing when he gets there, people helping themselves to a deliciously cold treat. There's so much of it, it's a wonder how they're going to manage to eat it all before it melts away, even with the lot of them.

He's quick to grab a bowl and pitch in, helping himself to a bit of cookie dough. It looks like they won't have to worry about everyone getting their fair share, and Sonny tops his with fudge and sprinkles before digging in.

"This is crazy," he says, to whoever happens to be standing close enough to listen. "I mean, definitely not bad. But crazy."

Re: OTA

[goldsteins]

The heat was blistering and never before had Tina wanted a cooling charm more than she had the last few days. There was nothing in the iceboxes and the coolest place was the waterfall where most seemed to trek to half naked or worse (neither of which was something she wanted to see). She spent less of her time inside and more outside so it's only by a happy coincidence she's anywhere near the Inn that day.

She's not one to eat someone else's food but given practicality and knowing when you're overheating she caves. Especially noting it was all quickly melting. She's as simple as ever, however, just taking some of the chocolate and nothing else-- content to lurk near the wall for the moment when she hears Sonny's voice.

"No crazier than an entire feast appearing out of no where," She returned in mild amusement.

OTA

[comfortablyerect]

Tim had been far enough into the woods to not hear Ravi's excited shouts before, and so when he lets himself into the Inn that day, he stumbles upon the surprise of an ice cream party. The only part of it that tempts him, really, is the cool that radiates from the containers. He's never had much of a sweet tooth, and he's admittedly a bit wary after so many people got sick at the last feast.

He didn't, of course, but others did. Nobody died, everybody recovered, but it didn't seem like the sort of thing he wanted to push or test.

His morning had been spent in the woods, gathering whatever wild berries he knew to be safe to eat. He would've preferred fishing, but it wasn't exactly ideal with the water levels dropping, leaving some of the fish population stranded and dead up on the shores. He can't remember shit about mating seasons and life cycles of fish, so he has no idea when it'll be safe to fish again without risking killing them out as a food source. He'll just have to keep an eye on it and see.

He's startled enough to stop short in the doorway of the inn, examining the large gathering in front of him. He skirts around, disappearing into the kitchen to wash the berries he'd collected and the bowl they'd been in before taking the back out to the table, silently setting them with the rest of the toppings. Maybe someone would use them, or maybe they'd just end up as part of tomorrow's meal.

[3ofswords]

Ravi shouting about something had only gotten Kira to the inn on the fact that he'd been on his way regardless: with Ravi it could be anything from a swarm of killer bees to a gift box with the most recent issue of Game Informer.

When Kira finds the source to be more impossible foodstuffs left out of the thin air, he slips through the skeptics. It's too fucking hot to ignore, even down to his makeshift shorts and one of the tanktops he'd pillaged that happens to have some very masculine, adjustable spaghetti straps. Credence will be utterly scandalized, but Credence is probably going to pass out from the inability to loosen his collar.

Dumping some of the softened vanilla into a bowl, he skirts his way to the toppings, more careful of his bare feet in a crowd than the possibility of getting dysentery from magic desserts.

"No rainbow sprinkles for you," he asks in greeting, somewhat intimately familiar by now with the back of Tim's head. He may or may not have been wandering out this way in the hopes of running into him--it hasn't happened for a few days, and pattern dictated it was his turn to instigate. "I'm glad you're here, I did laundry yesterday and my count was off."

Moving closer to his side for the barest semblance of privacy, he pulls a wad of white fabric from the pocket of his shorts, passing over Tim's underwear without so much as an arch of his brow. The second his hand is freed he reaches for a spoon, dishing caramel sauce into his bowl.